A BONNIE BAG. 37 



It was a charming, sylvan scene, and as the sun- 

 light glanced and flickered through the leaves, 

 and played on their dappled hides, I was so 

 entranced that it was some time before I could 

 make up my mind to disturb them. The savage 

 instinct of sport inherent in man predominated 

 at last, and I began to spot the best stag, and 

 look about to see how I could best circumvent 

 him. By taking advantage of the large ant-hills, 

 which here abounded, clumps of bamboo, and 

 trunks of trees, I managed to get within about 

 eighty yards of the herd unperceived, and select- 

 ing my victim a grand stag carrying a splendid 

 head I aimed at his shoulder, fired, and had 

 the satisfaction of seeing him roll over, whilst the 

 rest of the herd started asunder, and, dashing 

 away in all directions, soon disappeared in the 

 depths of the forest. I was administering the 

 coup de grace to the fallen stag, and admiring his 

 beautiful spotted hide and the graceful sweep of 

 his antlers, when I heard a scuffling in an ad- 

 jacent clump of bamboos, accompanied by a 

 gurgling, choking sound. Rushing in, with my 

 hunting-knife in my hand, I there found another 

 magnificent stag in the last agonies of death! 

 What luck ! Two good stags for one shot ! On 

 examining them, I found my bullet had gone 

 through the loins of the first stag, very high up, 



