📸 Photo

‘I have a great idea,’ Karl proclaimed. ‘We’ll keep spooking them in the direction we’re going until it’s time to set up camp. Then we’ll shoot one of them. We won’t even have to carry it that way.’

We carried on enthusiastically, driving the cattle forward with loud shouts. They tried to give us the slip, but we managed to keep them together; only one or two got away. All of the others were ahead of us, and the moment of truth had arrived.

I suddenly spotted a black bird gliding about fifty yards ahead of us.

‘Shhh,’ I said to quiet everyone, ‘look.’

Karl moved forward cautiously, and while still a considerable distance from the bird, took aim with the shotgun and fired, decapitating the bird. He rushed to the river and drew it out of the water. It was a fat, black wild goose. Karl was grinning from ear to ear. I was just as proud as he was of his admirable marksmanship.

Marcus suddenly cried out, ‘It’s alive! It’s still alive!’ and indeed the goose was still fluttering with life in Karl’s grip. I looked at Marcus suspiciously, half expecting him to break out the first-aid kit, but Karl thought nothing of it. He grasped the goose by it neck and twisted it to set Marcus’s mind at ease. Marcus let out a painful groan and covered his eyes.

‘Way to go, Karl.’ I slapped him on the back, while he tied the goose to my backpack. ‘Now we won’t have to shoot a calf.’

‘The calf isn’t out of it yet,’ he replied. ‘One