THE PRODIGAL STAG 7 1 



There was no doubt about this stag, he 

 never moved; but, remembering the mistaken 

 certainty of a month ago, Donald rushed over 

 to make sure by sticking him. 



Then the truth that had already dawned 

 on the wisely silent stalker burst on his 

 companion. 



" D'ye know, Me' em, whaat stag this is ? 

 It is yer own stag : see here the auld boollet 

 mark on the top o' his back." 



To this moment I do not know what then 

 happened, but I have a confused recollection 

 of seizing Donald either by his coat, neck, or 

 sleeve, shaking him like a terrier, and saying : 

 " What, what ! Where ? It's impossible," in a 

 voice quite unlike my own. 



" I thocht it wuss him when I sar his heid, 

 but I wud not speak for fear of putting 

 Mistress Murray off." 



Wise, thoughtful man, for which my grate- 

 ful thanks went out to him more than he 

 knew. 



When my senses recovered, and I could 

 once more see and hear properly, the evidence 



