"Stop, stop, Harry!" sang out Jerry.  "We are near enough to fire; stop and let us recover our wind."  The advice was good, and I was about to follow it, when one of the guanacoes turned his head and saw us.  Before we could bring our rifles to our shoulders, they were off like the wind. Jerry was going to fire after them but I stopped him, pointing to another herd a short distance further off, along the side of the mountain.