A JAPANESE MEDLEY 137 



there is no end. So I leave them with a sigh, for 

 I love them. 



Yet come with me to Nara, the city of unfor- 

 gotten dreams, to the heart of old Japan, where the 

 deer wander at will about the temple courts and gaze 

 at the wandering pilgrim from among hallowed groves. 

 Beautiful as it is, even in the autumn when no flowers 

 deck its sacred walks, what it must be in April when 

 the lovely wistaria hangs pendant above its plashing 

 fountains I can faintly conceive. An infinite peace 

 haunts its solitudes, and the deer who dwell among 

 them must surely be the envied of their kind the 

 whole world over. Keen-eyed stalkers, with small- 

 bore rifles and spy-glasses, never send them flying 

 among the trees, with backward glances at the 

 monarch of the herd lying limp and bleeding in 

 some sunlit glade ; and they accept, as of their right, 

 from laughing maidens specially fashioned cakes, the 

 while they nuzzle soft damp noses about the sleeves 

 and hands of those who so daintily supply their needs ; 

 for are they not sacred animals, the Sons of the Gods? 

 Only on rare occasions do they have cause for any 

 alarm. It is of one of these occasions that I write. 



For three days previously the stags had been kept 

 continually on the move, until at length all the finest 

 animals had been driven into an enclosure walled 

 with stone palisades some six feet high. The park 

 itself was full of people. As our rickshaws bowled 

 beneath the great scarlet torii, flanked by stone 

 lanterns, which arched the avenue, we could see 



