98 SIR VICTOR BROOKE CHAP. 



his wild lonely life. I go with him again on Wednesday, 

 the day after to-morrow. Excuse this long digression, 

 but it will, I hope, make you give me credit for an 

 increase of sense. Our next place of camping was on 

 a little greensward ; I can't describe the beauty of the 

 spot, so won't try ; you must use your imagination. An 

 old jungle cock (wild domestic cock) was standing on 

 it when I first saw it, and he crowed and shook himself 

 as much as to say, ' Hallo ! All you ladies, come and 

 look at a new kind of monkey ; I never saw such a thing 

 before!' That evening I went out for a stroll and 

 found fresh marks of father Bruin all about, and saw 

 plenty of tracks of deer. Next morning away at four 

 o'clock ; the country being unknown, we had to explore 

 it. After wandering about some time, we saw a great 

 precipice looking down into a beautiful forest ; clamber- 

 ing to the very edge, I lay looking over the edges of it for 

 a pair of sticks ; presently a lovely head peered out of 

 a lot of brushwood some hundreds of feet below. I 

 showed it to Brine ; it was a fine young stag, with very 

 fair antlers ; it was an awful shot, but I felt confident 

 in my favourite Purdey rifle (old Jack as I call him), 

 so took steady aim. The stag bounded in the air and 

 fell dead with a heavy crash. It was a fine shot, I must 

 own. Such work as we had, carrying the head and 

 meat home, we did all ourselves. I find this letter will 

 take too long if I spin it out too much, so must go to 

 the best parts. When we came back to the tents, we 

 found a bear had walked quietly past them, sitting on 

 a rock and staring at them in blank astonishment. We 

 never saw him again, so don't be uneasy. We found 

 some wild men at the tents waiting to see us and ask 

 for meat. They said a ' monster stag ' lived in the 

 glen, and that a tree grew from his head. Brine and I 

 set off to what was considered his favourite haunt and 



