rarely be attempted. Unless a man is certain he can hit that mark, _every
time_, he is not justified in taking the shot.

This principle applies to every one: as well to the beginner as to the
expert. The only difference between the two is the range at which this
certainty exists. The tyro's limit of absolute certainty for the heart
shot may be--and probably is--a hundred yards; for the high shoulder it
may be as near as thirty. This takes into consideration his inexperience
in the presence of game as well as his inaccuracy with the rifle, and it
keeps in mind that he must hit that mark not merely nine times out of ten,
but _every time_. If he cannot get within the hundred yards by stalking,
then he should refuse the chance. As expertness rises in the scale the
distances increase. Provided there were no such things as nerves, luck,
faulty judgment, and the estimate of distances one man should be as
mercifully deadly as another. Naturally the man who had to stalk to within
a hundred yards would not get as many shots as the one who could take his
chance at two hundred. This conduct of venery is an ideal that is only
approximated. Hence misses.

But even if a man lives rigorously up to his principles and knowledge,
there are other elements that bring in uncertainty. For one thing, he must
be able to estimate distance with some degree of accuracy. It avails
little to know that you can hit a given mark at two hundred and fifty
yards, if you do not know what two hundred and fifty yards is. And here
enter a thousand deceits: direction of light, slope of ground, nature of
cover, temperature, mirage, time of day, and the like. An apparent hundred
yards over water or across a canon would--were, by some dissolving-view-
change, bush-dotted plain to be substituted--become nearer three hundred
in the latter circumstances. There is a limit to the best man's
experience; a margin of error in the best man's judgment. Hence more