120 STALKS ABROAD 



having moved him. Just as we reached the top of 

 the ridge, within a couple of hundred yards of the 

 spot from which I hoped to get a shot, a wild-looking 

 seven-pointer suddenly charged past us at full gallop, 

 and after one startled look rushed straight into the 

 middle of the deer we were stalking. There was only 

 one hope, so we ran over the splintered shale as 

 quickly as we were able in the hopes of getting a 

 shot before they had all gone out of sight. In this 

 we were lucky, for I saw my stag standing up against 

 the sky-line taking a final look back before following 

 his hinds, who had all vanished. The wild-eyed seven- 

 pointer was watching the progress of events half 

 way down the ridge. My first shot was a clean miss, 

 but the second broke his foreleg. He gave a jump 

 and went out of sight, whilst we followed as quickly 

 as the nature of the ground permitted. It is asto- 

 nishing when occasion arises how fast one can get 

 over ground on which in the ordinary course of events 

 unlimited time and a walking-stick would be re- 

 garded as essentials. As we reached the spot on 

 which my stag had been standing we saw the leading 

 hind emerge from the dip into which their headlong 

 rush had carried them. The stag was limping along 

 behind. I shot very badly, having to fire five or 

 six more shots before he rolled down the hill and 

 brought up on a big rock some hundreds of yards 

 below us. His lower points were not by any means 

 equal to his tops, though he was just a royal. I 

 was very sorry at first I had shot him, for the ten- 



