IN FOREST AND ON HILL 245 



wriggle yourself through the heather in the convolu- 

 tions of the serpent. Yet all the time your pulse 

 seems to be beating six to the second, and your whole 

 being is throbbing with suppressed thrills ! for you 

 have a sense that nature is conspiring against you. 

 The crow of the solitary cock, the mere twitter of 

 some alarmed moor-bird, a sudden twist in the breeze, 

 the flight of a hawk or a raven may be so many sig- 

 nificant signs that will convey warning of your 

 proximity ; and the consciousness of that long and 

 anxious stalk of the concatenation of outward con- 

 tingencies that you are in course of surmounting 

 successfully all conspire to raise excitement beyond 

 control when your hopes are at last on the verge of 

 fruition. We envy and yet we compassionate the 

 novice who lies ensconced at last within easy range, 

 longing to still the fierce beating of his heart and to 

 clear away the gathering film from his eyes. His 

 mentor knows too well to flurry him, and yet the 

 worthy Gael is naturally impatient. Is the grand stalk 

 to go for nothing, as seems only too possible ? As yet 

 the deer are feeding in tranquillity, all unconscious of 

 their peril ; but it is tempting Providence to hang back 

 too long ; and it is a marvel that that lean-looking 

 hind is not sniffing the air suspiciously. But the nerves 

 are steadied in a measure by an almost superhuman 

 strain ; the aim is taken and the shot is fired. We 

 would rather drop a curtain over the scene should the 

 hart go off unharmed, or have his gallop merely 

 hastened by a flesh-wound. But should he drop in his 



