The Maral Stag 2 1 5 



with dew. Suddenly a big dark beast moves 

 from in front and is gone. The crashing of 

 branches below grows fainter and then stops. 

 He was a stag, but "no good." 



We worked along the ridge, and delightful as 

 the walk before sunrise nearly always is among 

 the hills, I can call to mind none pleasanter than 

 those in the beautiful country of the maral. The 

 air keen and laden with woodland scents ; at each 

 fresh turn vistas of boscage ; every glade and 

 forest-fringed lawn the ideal feeding-ground of 

 some mighty stag. 



Near the end of the ridge we turned south into 

 forest, and went downhill almost as far as the 

 bush - covered plain through which the Gurgan 

 flows. It was now about ten or eleven o'clock, 

 and my Kurd shikari threw himself down in the 

 shade and declared there was nothing more to 

 be done till evening. Mahommed was in truth 

 a lazy beggar, nor did he atone for the defect 

 by any conspicuous merit as a stalker. As the 

 sun grew hot, his morning's keenness seemed to 

 vanish with the dew, and the following is the 

 sort of argument that daily took place about this 

 hour : 



I (looking down on his recumbent figure and 

 restraining a desire to use my boot), " Well, we 

 must be moving. Which way shall we try ? " 



