198 TO THE SADDLE ! 



shock. Springing to his feet, with his rifle still in his 

 hand, he caught sight of the stag at thirty yards in 

 advance, and with a single shot brought him down. 



Old Hector, who had rejoined us, embraced the poor 

 mare, reciting a funeral oration over her dead body ; but 

 Mr. Dallifold soon interrupted his unseasonable lament- 

 ations, and ordered him to find a fresh scent. Two of 

 the friends of the dismounted hunter proposed to keep 

 him company, until our host's negroes came to carry 

 away the game, and the mare's harness. We resumed 

 our hunt in the forest depths, whose lofty and spreading 

 trees almost shut out the rays of the sun. The axe had 

 never profaned these giants of the wood, and Robin Hood, 

 had he lived in America, could not have desired a safer 

 retreat for himself and his merry rovers. 



Hector, who guided our march, at length bade us halt ; 

 and while he was searching for the trail, we took the 

 opportunity of satisfying the cravings of a hungry stomach. 

 An improvised lunch, consisting of cold meat and good 

 Bordeaux wine, restored both our strength and our good 

 humour. 



"To the saddle !" suddenly cried Mr. Dallifold; "Hector 

 and his dogs have started another deer." 



Scarcely were our feet in the stirrups, before a troop 

 composed of six deer and a stag passed in front of us at 

 twenty yards distant, followed by the entire pack bark- 

 ing their very loudest. We were now seven in number, 

 each carrying a double barrel. The discharge was simul- 

 taneous, and when the smoke cleared away we counted 

 five deer and a ten-antler rolling on the ground in the 

 convulsions of death. The seventh animal, wounded in 

 the chest, close to the lung, had strength enough to keep 



