CHAPTER THE LAST. 385 



to be in the way. It is true such poor little un- 

 fortunate was generally the most awkward of the 

 family ; but then constant ill-treatment is enough to 

 make any one embarrassed and awkward. 



The caution with which a stag, particularly an old 

 one well versed in the ways of men, will emerge from 

 a thicket into the open space, is very great. With 

 his head almost on the ground, he steals forth as 

 stealthily as a fox. You do not hear a dead leaf rustle, 

 so noiseless are his movements : with his nose low 

 down, and advanced as much as possible, he will stand 

 inimoveable for some minutes, with no part of him 

 visible except the nostrils and the large bright eyes, 

 these alone move ; and when the ground has been thus 

 carefully reconnoitered, without however at all turning 

 his head, the rest of the creature then steals forth, and 

 with a fleet step he flits across the road, and into the 

 shelter of the opposite thicket. It is a mystery to 

 me how a stag is able to pass through the intricate fo- 

 liage with his wide-spreading antlers, without disturb- 

 ing the boughs, so cautiously, indeed, as not even to 

 cause a twig or the trembling of a leaf to betray his 

 approach. He is aware of the danger, and flings them 

 back quite low behind him : when in full flight through 

 the forest he does the same, lest he strike them against 

 the overhanging branches in his headlong haste. 



One thing too will have struck every person who 

 has had opportunities of observing wild animals ; the 

 quickness, namely, with which the wounds they have 

 received generally heal. When however we consider 



2 c 



