196 ON SURREY HILLS. 



I was quietly gliding some distance in their wake 

 to see that stag shot. No fear of my being de- 

 tected, for the men's faculties are all centred on 

 the deer. Very cautiously are these moved by the 

 under-keepers from the lake end of the park. A 

 large deer-dog is with the old squire's son not a 

 deer-hound, but a creature between a blood-hound 

 and a mastiff. The huge brute is in a slip, in readi- 

 ness to pull down the fine fellow when wounded. 

 On he comes, a frisky leader followed by his herd ; 

 in no hurry, for so cleverly have they been moved 

 that they are hardly aware of anything being be- 

 hind them. The stag comes on ; soon he will pass 

 in front of his foes. Now he is near enough ; there 

 is a report the crack of a rifle. With a wild 

 toss of the head he falls forward on his knees, but 

 only for a moment, being hit in a spot not vital. 

 He looks round, sees his enemies, and dashes off 

 at his top speed. The great dog is slipped, and 

 despatched to pull him down. He starts with a 

 yell of eagerness ; if noise could kill a poor stag, 

 he would be dead in less than a minute. It only 

 makes the fine fellow go faster, however; and that 

 is all the dog is likely to effect, for as the great 



