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THE COUNTRY OF THE WILD CAMEL. 129
gleaming with the passion of the chase, disappeared
amongst the bushes, his old-fashioned muzzle-loader in his
hand. For a while there was the silence of the grave. I
watched the herd in trembling expectation. Crack ! and
up leapt five of the camels and started to come at a slow
trot towards our hiding-place ; but suddenly they turned
tail and set off at a wild gallop towards the mountains
of the Kuruk-tagh. The younger of the two camels that
were grazing received a bullet in his breast, and when he
got up to follow the others, a second one in the neck
stopped him for ever.
He lay in a kneeling posture, chewing away at what he
had in his mouth. Every now and again he tried to get
up, but his fore-legs refused to support him. His look
was calm and resigned, and hardly showed either fear or
astonishment ; but when I tried to stroke him on the
nose, he attempted to bite me. A swift, powerful stroke
across the throat with Abdu Rehim’s hunting-knife,
followed by a few convulsions, and this noble son of
the desert, who so lately was peacefully grazing upon
the edge of the spring, was dead. The other camels had
meanwhile disappeared like the wind. Abdu Rehim was
immensely delighted ; he was provisioned for several
days to come.
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