I was right, and before the gun was in my hands again the beast was over the stream.
It was a long range and a difficult mark, but I had to take the risk, for I was on my trial.

I allowed for the throw of the musket and the steepness of the hill, and pulled the trigger.

The shot might have been better, for I had aimed for the shoulder, and hit the neck.

The buck leaped into the air, ran three yards, and toppled over.

By the grace of God, I had found the single chance in a hundred.
Frew looked at me with sincere respect.