A billy goat with a lustrous black-haired coat had me transfixed in its beady stare. It was only about 10 metres away. I was frozen to total immobility to avoid spooking it.
Its long-bearded buddy that I was pursuing was nowhere to be seen. The seconds ticked by.
I KNEW the slight breeze blowing in my face would not give me away. I was in a little pocket of shade and fully clad in camo clothing, including a face mask, so it seemed the critter was either puzzled by my unusual shape crouched behind a low log, or maybe the muzzle of my rifle protruding over it. Perhaps it had seen a movement from Lynda, who was guiding me on this hunt and positioned a few metres behind me. After a moment or two in standoff, it gave a couple of dissatisfied snorts then continued its slow traverse to my right.
Only an instant
