FEALAR 295 



travelling stags coming into Fealar, and I was a 

 little disappointed not to see any moving on the 

 face. At this time of year stags travel as much by 

 day as by night. Down on the flat below a big 

 stag was chasing another with all the assiduity of 

 an angry dog, and at last he hunted his enemy right 

 off the low ground up to the bog round Loch Tilt, 

 where I could still see the hunt going on a mile 

 and a half away. 



The ground about Loch Tilt had not been visited 

 for a fortnight, and as the mist was lifting and several 

 stags were roaring there I got up to resume my 

 journey. The moment, however, I assumed an 

 upright position I saw a vision of horns round a 

 shoulder directly below me. Four large points on 

 one top meant something out of the way, so I got 

 into position at once to fire as soon as the beast 

 appeared. Soon he came on, feeding quietly, and 

 gave me an easy broadside at sixty yards. He 

 fell at once to the shot, and then turned over and 

 rolled from the top of the hill to the bottom, a 

 distance of about 400 feet. There being no rocks 

 to cause damage, the horns were not injured. I 

 now climbed down quickly, expecting to find I had 

 shot at least a royal, but alas, though the horns 

 were thick and long and the head a very good one, 

 the points only showed eleven with four on the left 

 top. It was rather unusual to find an adult stag 

 at this season feeding so eagerly, but I have noticed 

 it once or twice before, and think that there are 

 always a few stags which never go with hinds nor 

 have the courage to fight for them. These stags 

 invariably keep apart from turmoil in the rutting 

 season, and in consequence almost invariably have 



