Springing to the ground he fired both barrels of his "Express" at them as they tore along--alas and alas! without touching them.

The first bullet struck under their bellies, the second must have shaved their backs.

Reloading rapidly, he fired again at about two hundred yards' range, and this time one fell to his second barrel.

But he knew that it was a chance shot: he had fired at the last buck, and he had killed one ten paces in front of it.

In fact this sort of shooting is extremely difficult till the sportsman understands it.