32 ECHOES OF SPORT 



of that yellow body were distinguishable from 

 the background, but the brain said it was the 

 only chance, and the trigger finger obeyed. 

 The stag stumbled as if to fall, hit sure 

 enough, but a step forward showed it was in 

 the shoulder at the very top of the fore leg. 

 The rifle was reloaded in a moment, but the 

 stag turned at once tail onwards and limped 

 away. Did a hit stag ever show anything 

 but his tail ? 



Then the reason of the waning light re- 

 vealed itself. Suddenly and quickly a grey 

 pall of mist enveloped everything, and into it 

 the stag disappeared as if by magic. Hills, 

 sky, foreground were blotted out ; the im- 

 penetrable cloak flew over ridge and hollow, 

 leaving barely twenty yards visible around. 

 The slight rise of ground on which the stag 

 was lying had hidden the farther hills, and 

 the stalker and the rifle had been so intent 

 watching the beast and his sentinel hinds that 

 they were only aware of the darkening sky, 

 but the advent of the mist was concealed by 

 the lie of the land. The stag vanished behind 



