It was no easy shot in that uncertain light at a downward angle.

The glare of the sun on the lake had troubled his eyes during the last few days.

The shimmer of the moonlight was deceptive now.

I wished he would pass the rifle to Will, or even to Brown of Lumbwa, who was digging his fingers into the earth beside me in almost uncontrollable excitement.

But Fred was unperturbed, and the chief, who was nervous enough to detect the slightest sign of nervousness in Fred, did not seem to mistrust him for one second.
Three times I saw Fred breathe deeply, as if about to squeeze the trigger, but each time he was only "makkin' sikkar," and eased his lungs again.