“You will have the worst of it, Allan,” said Retief.  “It should have been shot and shot about.”

“Perhaps,” I answered, “but that can’t be helped now.”

Then I rose from my stool, the rifle in my hand.  I had not long to wait, for presently over came a wedge of geese nearly a hundred yards up.  I aimed at the first fellow, holding about eight yards ahead of him to allow for his pace, and pressed.  Next second I heard the clap of the bullet, but alas! it had only struck the outstretched beak, of which a small portion fell to the ground.  The bird itself, after wavering a second, resumed its place as leader of the squad and passed away apparently unharmed.

“Baas, baas,” whispered Hans as he seized the rifle and began to re-load, “you were too far in front.  These big water-birds do not travel as fast as the rock pigeons.”

I nodded, wishing to save my breath.  Then, quivering with excitement, for if I missed the next shot the match appeared to be lost, presently I took the rifle from his hand.

Scarcely had I done so when a single goose came over quite as high as the others and travelling “as though the black devil had kicked it,” as Retief said.  This time I allowed the same space to compensate for the object’s increased speed and pressed.

Down it came like a stone, falling but a little way behind me with its head knocked off.

“Baas, baas,” whispered Hans, “still too far in front.  Why aim at the eye when you have the whole body?”

Again I nodded, and at the same time heaved a sigh of relief.  At least the match was still alive.  Soon a large flight came over, mixed up with mallard and widgeon.  I took the right-hand angle bird, so that it could not be supposed I had “browned the lot,” as here in England they say of one who fires at a covey and not at a particular partridge.  Down he came, shot straight through the breast.  Then I knew that I had got my nerve, and felt no more fear.

To cut a long story short, although two of them were extremely difficult and high, one being, I should say, quite a hundred and twenty yards above me, and the other by no means easy, I killed the next three birds one after the other, and I verily believe could have killed a dozen more without a miss, for now I was shooting as I had never shot before.

“Say, nephew Allan,” asked Retief curiously in the pause between the fifth and sixth shots, “why do your geese fall so differently to Hernan’s?”

“Ask him! don’t talk to me,” I answered, and next instant brought down number five, the finest shot of the lot.

A sound of wonder and applause came from all the audience, and I saw Marie wave a white handkerchief.

“That’s the end,” said the referee.

“One minute before you stir,” I answered.  “I want to shoot at something else that is not in the match, just to see if I can kill two birds with one bullet like the Heer Pereira.”