MY FIRST STAG 



The moonbeams grow fainter ; the east glows 

 with daffodil, primrose, and pink ; the light grows 

 stronger and clearer, and there is sufficient to shoot 

 by, when, with the morning breeze blowing fresh in 

 our faces, we approach the place where we expect to 

 find the deer. 



We have heard no semblance of a roar, and do 

 not know if there is a stag with them, and, if there 

 is, whether it is our stag, or rather the stag we hope 

 to make ours, so it is an anxious moment. 



Ah ! that settles it ! There is a faint moaning 

 sound, like the low of a consumptive cow there is 

 a stag ahead, and he is roaring too, but only very 

 feebly and lazily. 



"We shall have to crawl," says the Prince. 



" All right," I say. 



So we crawl ! He first, to show me how to do 

 it ; and I behind, endeavouring to imitate him. 



Crawling is but a wearisome mode of progression 

 at the best particularly with such a master of the 

 art as the Prince in front of one ! There was the 

 difficulty of keeping up with him at all in the first 

 place, intensified by having to carry a rifle there 

 was the avoidance of dead sticks and dried leaves, 

 and all the other multitudinous trifles that would 

 make a noise if one got reckless and attempted to 

 put in a spurt so as not to be left behind and then 

 there was my first stag ahead ! Would he run 



25 c 



