later, "you return here again, one week from to-day, bringing the
things written down on this paper, from the shop of Rustomji at Kot
Ghazi. Here you wait until I come. If I find there is truth in your
_khubbar_[27] of ibex you will be rewarded ... Why don't I take you?
Because I want to be alone. Set out now for Kot Ghazi. I may return." A
stone fell and clattered. Dam shrank, cringed, and shut his eyes--as
one expecting a heavy blow. _Ah-h-h-h-h_--had the beast bolted? With
the slowness of an hour-hand he raised his head above the bank of the
watercourse until his eye cleared the edge. _No_--still there. After a
painful crawl that seemed to last for hours, he reached the point
where the low ridge ran off at right-angles, crept behind it, and lay
flat on his face, to rest and recover breath. He was soaked in
perspiration from head to foot, giddy with sun and unnatural posture,
very sore as to elbows and knees, out of breath, trembling--and
entirely happy. The half-mile crawl, with the greater part of his body
on the burning ground, and the rifle to shuffle steadily along without
noise or damage, was the equivalent of a hard day's work to a strong
man. At the end of it he lay gasping and sick, aching in every limb,
almost blind with glare and over-exertion, weary to death--and
entirely happy. Thank God he would be able to stand up in a moment and
rest behind a big cactus. Then he would have a spell of foot-work for
a change, and, though crouching double, would not be doing any
crawling until he had crossed the plateau and reached the bushes.

The upward climb was successfully accomplished with frequent halts for
breath, behind boulders. On the plateau all that was required was
silence. The ibex could not see him up there. In his rubber-soled
khaki-coloured shoes he could almost run, but it was a question
whether a drink of cold water would not be worth more than all the
ibexes in the world.