THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON. 



near the stag, for he sees and hears nothing, and, if I 

 may use the expression, is reduced almost to a state 

 of imbecility. I have myself crept along the ground, 

 and got from bush to bush until I was near enough 

 to have brought him down with a pistol-shot. 



It is in truth astonishing that the stag should be so 

 long-lived as he is ; for the whole year through, with 

 the exception of at most two months, he is either 

 taxing his nature to the utmost, or striving to recruit 

 his strength through an inclement and unpropitious 

 season. The rutting is over ; and now, with lantern 

 body and but the ghost of his former self, he has the 

 raw winter months before him. There is no green 

 pasturage where he may appease the cravings of his 

 hunger ; the ground is covered with deep snow ; nor 

 can he get at the young corn, which, were it not thus 

 hidden, would furnish a most dainty banquet. He 

 is obliged to have recourse to the rind of the young 

 trees, and to nibble the tips of the last shoots and 

 twigs. Poor nourishment this for a famished worn- 

 out creature ! yet till the spring-time conies it is all he 

 has to feed on. And hardly has he recovered himself 

 a little, when nature demands of him an immense 

 exertion: his antlers fall off close to his head, and 

 another pair, even higher and stronger than those 

 just lost, are to supply their place. And this opera- 

 tion is not a work of time, proceeding slowly and 

 with gradual development ; but, by a strong effort, of 

 rapid, nay almost sudden, growth. In three months 

 the stag has put forth his branching antlers again ; 



