132 TRAVEL, ADVENTURE, AND SPORT. 



" Yes, sir," said Duncan slowly, and breathing 

 very hard; "there is a stag." 



"A good one?" 



" He's your own stag, sir," was the reply. " I see 

 the mark on his haunch ! Oh, sir, you will be care- 

 ful?" 



(Two years previously, almost to a day, and within 

 a couple of miles of where we stood, we came on a 

 stag, which Duncan unhesitatingly pronounced the 

 finest he had ever seen. I had a bad chance at him, 

 but thought I had wounded him mortally. The re- 

 sult proved, however, that it was only a deep flesh 

 wound. He made his way over the river, and Avas 

 missed at thirty yards by a sportsman in the forest of 

 G , who came on him suddenly as he was hob- 

 bling along, looking very sorry for himself. Xo thing 

 more was heard of him for fully a year, when he re- 

 turned to his old haunts. I was told he had been 

 seen, and here he was prepared to give me another 

 chance.) I had shot many a good stag " over " 

 " little Duncan," but I never saw him half so excited 

 before. Almost equally eager, I turned my glass on 

 the place. Yes, there was the big stag there was 

 no mistake about it not half a mile down the hill 

 from where we stood, and to our intense satisfaction 

 he had only four hinds with him. 



" He's in a good place, Duncan." 



" Couldn't be better, sir," he replied. 



We were standing under a dark perpendicular rock. 



