DEER-STALKING. 



i75 



such ground as a whole. Then we commence our 

 descent towards the comparative civilization of a 

 saier, where the prospect of a draught of fresh 

 milk fires our imagination, not without some minor 

 adventures, of which one, perhaps, may, from its 

 grotesqueness, be worth recording. 



The old hunter, crawling first over an awkward 

 ridge of rock, which, he says, will save us a long 

 detour to avoid one of the many precipices between 

 us and the brushwood-covered mountain-side below, 

 suddenly utters a cry of alarm, rage, or pain, and 

 rushes back as fast as his all-fours formation will 

 allow, snatching and tearing at his hair and buffet- 

 ing his face, yelling out, " Tilbage ! tilbage ! slem 

 fluge ! slem fluge ! " " Go back ! go back ! bad flies ! 

 bad flies ! " We, then, who had at first thought 

 him seized with a sudden madness, on seeing 

 the cause — some enormous wasps clinging to his 

 hair and clothes — retired precipitately, and when 

 with our help he had killed or rid himself of these 

 angry assailants he explained that just in the 



