CH. XXVI. WALK HOME. 113 



Here he paused as if at a dead loss for a simile ; 

 which I was obliged to help him to at last by sug- 

 gesting, " As your own wife, Donald." At which 

 he indulged in a low inward chuckle and a pinch 

 of snuff, without, however, denying the " soft im- 

 peachment." 



On looking at the stag, we found that he had 

 evidently been very lately shot at, and that one of 

 his forelegs was broken above the knee — the bone 

 smashed entirely, and the leg hanging on by the 

 skin, which would have soon worn through ; the 

 animal, having lost the incumbrance of the broken 

 limb, would soon, if left in quiet, have entirely re- 

 covered. "We prepared our game for being " left 

 till called for," and sat down to our luncheon. My 

 account to Donald of the death of my other stag 

 was interrupted by a most desperate battle be- 

 tween the dogs, who had fallen out over the dead 

 body ; and being pretty well matched in size and 

 courage, we had great difficulty in reducing them 

 to order, and compelling them to keep the peace. 



I had a pleasant though not very bloody after- 

 noon's shooting going home, killing seven brace of 

 wild-fiying grouse, a mallard, and two blackcocks. 

 The night had set in before we were half way 

 through the woods in which the last two or three 



miles of our road lay ; we could hear numberless 

 vol. n. I 



