ROE-DEER SHOOTING. 79 



little stream joined a river a hundred yards below the 

 ponds, and therefore it was quite likely he would 

 return on the near bank. It was bitterly cold, but I 

 waited patiently. Sure enough I soon heard him 

 again coming through the woods by the river. Think- 

 ing only of a hare, I stepped quietly out of the firs on 

 the far side to get a clear shot. Standing thus in the 

 open, I heard something gallop down over the shoulder 

 of the hill and halt among the firs. Every sound was 

 audible on the hard-frozen ground, so I knew it could 

 not be a hare. I stood motionless, the hound was 

 apparently at fault. Yough ! yough ! he opened 

 again, the footsteps recommenced, and a roebuck 

 cantered out within ten yards of me, only to go down 

 with a charge of No. 2 behind the shoulder. It was 

 not a large one, but quite as heavy as I cared to carry 

 the short distance home. 



This happened on the 23rd of December. On the 

 following 6th of January I again had a successful run, 

 this time with two dachshunds, in the same locality. 

 As I walked up the valley I noticed some woodcutters 

 at work by the lower pond, so I gave up the idea of 

 seeing deer that afternoon. As the sequel will show, I 

 was mistaken. The hounds took up a line at the top 

 of the little fir-wood, but were soon at fault, and 

 making sure it could only be a wandering fox, I turned 

 back, leaving them trying about. Partly for warmth 

 and partly from old habit, I walked through the young 

 firs under cover instead of down the path outside. 

 Just before I reached the place at which I had killed the 

 last buck, I happened to glance up at a high cliff which 



