ON PLAIN AND PEAK 



movability, and myself to building castles in the 

 air. It must have been the fineness of the day, 

 combined with the stories of my trusty trager, that 

 made me feel so particularly hopeful that morning. 

 A thick pine-wood clothed the steep slope of the 

 hill on our left, and it was from its shelter that the 

 record buck I was dreaming of would, I felt sure, 

 come. I had even determined in my own mind 

 the exact place where he would stand, and I dis- 

 posed my rifle so that I could bring it up quickly 

 and easily to my shoulder when he made his ap- 

 pearance. Thus I waited. 



Below, in the valley, I could see fat Anton, the 

 Prince's servant, pacing backwards and forwards, 

 alpine-stock in hand, and stopping from time to 

 time to gaze through a pair of glasses towards 

 where we sat. He had never seen a living chamois, 

 and was waiting too to see one. 



But it was all in vain ! The minutes dragged 

 along, and as every quarter of an hour passed a 

 little of my hopefulness ebbed away. The shots 

 from the beaters grew nearer and nearer. Our 

 position, cramped from the first, grew more and 

 more uncomfortable, and even Wechselberger be- 

 gan to fidget. To the very end I hoped, however. 

 Might not some old buck, which had seen the game 

 before, lie close in the fir-wood till the very last 

 minute ? 



206 



