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" close under the sholah, the deer listens and knows where he stops. 

 " If lie goes to windward, his noxious smell betrays his presence ; 

 " and sooner than face any of these hidden dangers, many a shot is 

 " lost by the deer rushing back through the beaters, and breaking 

 " covert at an unguarded spot. Each person taking up his post 

 " should accordingly avoid a direct or noisy approach to it. With 

 " dogs, however, in full chase, the deer sometimes is forced to break 

 " within shot, notwithstanding that he is aware of the presence of 

 " his enemy, man. Now then comes the moment of excitement ! ! 

 "Now, though I do not admire "beating" in general, I do not 

 " despise it, or deny that there is sport in the practice ; but it is 

 " and must be comparative, and of the lesser degree. The moment 

 " of excitement ! A shout from the beaters proclaim a deer on foo V 

 " followed by the hounds giving tongue ; a crash through the reeds 

 " and bamboos close by sends your heart into your throat ; you know 

 " not what it may be, stag or hind. The rush comes nearer, then 

 "a dead lull succeeds. Now is the time that the experienced 

 " sportsman shows his tact and knowledge. He never stirs, but 

 " remains quietly prepared, avoiding the slightest movement to 

 " signify his presence or alarm the chase, for he is well aware that 

 " either the cunning old stag or the cautious hind has stopped at 

 " the very edge of the wood, to peep out and see that the coast is 

 " clear. Again the cry of the dogs is heard, and the deer, finding 

 " it too hot to stay, breaks covert with a sudden rush, ofttimes 

 " succeeded by as sudden a halt. If the dogs be close at his heels, 

 " on he goes, fall speed, but ere many strides are taken, flinches and 

 " stumbles to the well-aimed shot, still pursuing his course head- 

 " long, till choked by the rising blood he rolls over dead on the hill- 

 " side, falling into the thick fern fringing the nearest sholah, the 

 " haven he vainly sought to reach on leaving his last refuge. Some-' 

 " times the deer on breaking covert comes to a dead halt, either 

 " bewildered by the noise, or forced to take an unaccustomed line 

 " by the pressure of the pack. For one second he stands to gaze ! 

 " ah, fatal moment ! for the next he dies ! This then is " Beating.** 

 " May I call it the " prose" of sport ? Let me before I proceed to 

 " describe the " poetry" " stalking" say a few more words touch- 

 " ing the habits of the animal we ore so unmercifully slaying on 

 " paper. 



