ON PLAIN AND PEAK 



Prince and myself, noiselessly threading the dark 

 woods at five o'clock on an October morning. The 

 moon is still shining brightly, and only a faint 

 glimmer in the east betokens the approaching dawn. 

 The forest lies around us, sombre and still ; and not 

 a sound is to be heard but the faint murmur of the 

 breeze among the leaves and an occasional dismal 

 hoot from a distant owl. 



It is one particular stag that we are in search of 

 an old acquaintance of mine that had baffled my 

 efforts day after day, and never given me more than 

 a fleeting glimpse of himself in the far distance, 

 sufficiently near, however, to show what a fine beast 

 he was, and to make me more covetous than ever 

 of his wide-spreading antlers. He had an objec- 

 tionable habit, too, of practising for the battles of 

 the " Brunft " (as the Austrians call the rutting- 

 time) on the plantations of young trees, and de- 

 stroying dozens of promising firs in a single night, 

 a fact that made us doubly anxious to secure him. 



But what are those grey spectres that are moving 

 in the open glade below us ? Red deer, certainly. 

 Of the two nearest to us one is larger than the 

 other, and we make out that they are a hind and 

 calf; but there are more beyond. They are feed- 

 ing away to the right, and we cannot make our 

 approach with the wind as it is, so there is nothing 

 for it but to go round. 



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