CHAP.THIRTY-FOUR DEERHOUNDS 



direction towards which he turned sprung in front of him, 

 baying and preventing his leaving the spot. 



Not seeing Donald and his gun, we consulted together 

 as to what was to be done, and at last Malcolm determined, 

 by cautiously attacking the deer from above with his stick, 

 to make him turn from the dogs, and give them a chance 

 of fixing on him without risk from his horns; if they suc- 

 ceeded, I was to run in, and act as circumstances permitted, 

 and, if possible, to help the dogs by stabbing the deer in 

 the throat. As soon as Malcolm had commenced his part 

 of the business, by going round the deer, I called off the 

 dogs in order that they should not be trampled down by 

 the first rush of the poor beast. They came quite willingly, 

 evidentlyplacing entire confidence in our manner ofattack. 

 Malcolm gotjustabovethestag,and then flinginghisheavy 

 stick at his legs,and shouting loudly, frightened him so that 

 he rushed out of the pool, passing close to me. 



"Now, then, good dogs, at him"; and the next moment 

 the stag was tumbled over, with both hounds fixed on him 

 — Bran at his shoulder and Oscar at his throat. I easily 

 managed my part of the affair, and put an end to the poor 

 animal's pain with my hunting-knife. "Well done. Sir, well 

 done,"said Malcolm; "thatwasquickly finished," — "'Deed, 

 ay," said Donald, who just then came up, panting like a 

 walrus. "No that bad either"; this being the utmost praise 

 that he ever bestowed on anyone. The hounds, as soon as 

 they saw that the stag was quite dead, left him, and, lying 

 quietly down, began to lick the bruises and cuts they had 

 received in the run; luckily there were none of any conse- 

 quence. Every now and then one of the dogs would get up, 

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