THE STAG OF THE ALPS 121 



than in the log huts dotted here and there near well-known 

 favourite ' Brunftplatze ' on the uppermost outskirts of the vast 

 pine forests of the Austrian Alps. 



Starting out from your hut, which has given you a welcome 

 night's shelter, an hour or so before dawn, accompanied if you 

 are a novice by a keeper, you pursue your way silently and 

 noiselessly towards the spot where your quarry has been betray- 

 ing his presence by lusty notes. Only practised ears can tell 

 exactly where that spot is, for there is nothing more deceptive 

 than the roar of a stag. At one time it seems scarce a quarter 

 of a mile off, two or three minutes later it will sound thrice that 

 distance away, caused by the stag sending forth his challenge 

 in the opposite direction. Moreover, the sound itself, with 

 its deep guttural notes, is by no means always of the same 

 strength. 



By the time you have reached the vicinity of the deer, the 

 rays of the rising sun are tipping with a rosy tinge the high 

 snowclad peaks which form your horizon overhead, and the 

 time when ' shooting light ' will enable you to finger your 

 trigger is near at hand. If the clearing on which the deer are 

 disporting themselves — as yet only faintly outlined forms — is a 

 large one, you will have more difficulty in getting close to your 

 quarry than if it happens to be merely a glade or park-like 

 opening in the forest. 



Now every moment is valuable, for as dawn gives way to 

 broad daylight, the deer are sure to return to the denser forest, 

 where pursuit is infinitely more difficult. If the clearing happens 

 to be an old windfall, or marks the pathway of an avalanche 

 which has laid low the great pines and arves, fallen trunks 

 scattered here and there, or little thickets of young saplings, 

 usually afford means of approach. If you are hardy, and do 

 not mind brushing the rime off the frost-laden grass with your 

 bare feet, your heavy iron-shod boots will about this time be 

 ipped off and the last part of the stalk be performed without 

 ihem, the best of all precautions against striking stones, or, what 

 is even more treacherously dangerous, treading upon twigs, 



