72 ECHOES OF SPORT 



was conclusive. Besides the head with the 

 ten points the stalker knew so well, there was 

 a dry scab formed on the top of his back the 

 size of half a crown, covering the place where 

 the bullet had scruff ed it. He was apparently 

 none the worse, though perhaps a little gone 

 back in condition, but as he turned the scales 

 (clean) at well over thirteen stone, there 

 wasn't much the matter with him. 



Where he had gone that first day and after 

 will always be a mystery. Donald concluded 

 he must have slipped very fast down the 

 south side of the hill, crossed the river, and 

 remained the other side till he had recovered 

 sufficiently to return to his usual haunts. 



It was indeed the truth when I told Donald 

 I would rather have got that stag than twelve 

 others of twenty points each, and by the way 

 his handsome face lit up I believe he fully 

 shared my pleasure. 



How much one owes to these good friends 

 of the hill for the way they enter into the 

 joys or disappointments of one's sport. How 

 careful they are of one's safety and comfort. 



