mortally, while one fired from a first-rate rifle fails to penetrate the skull unless it hit the brain-pan, which is small in comparison with the size of the whole head. Under these circumstances it may easily be understood how impossible it is, even at close quarters, to depend upon the sureness of your aim, and how doubtful must be the issue of the contest with this giant of the Tibetan deserts. The only security of the sportsman is in the stupidity and indecision of the yak, which, despite its ferocity, shows an unconquerable fear in the presence of a daring man. Were it not for this, the yak would be a more formidable foe than a tiger, because, as I said before, it is quite in exceptional instances that you can be sure of giving him his death-blow. Your best chance lies in the number of wounds you can inflict, and therefore you must be armed with a breech-loader. Of course I am now merely referring to old bulls; the cows and herds retreat precipitately as soon as the first shot is fired. But old bulls will not always attack the hunter, and often take to their heels even though wounded. In such a case let loose your dogs after them; they will very soon overtake a yak, seize hold of his tail and bring him to bay, and, in his fury, he will assail first one dog then another without noticing you.
It is easier and less dangerous for a mounted sportsman to follow the yak, whether single or in a herd; a good horse will soon come up with the unwieldy brutes. Unfortunately, both our steeds were so starved that they could hardly move their
