A LONG STALK. 69 



It was now, however, evident that they were making 

 for their inaccessible retreats in the mountain, and 

 unless something was done, and that without delay, the 

 opportunity was lost. Rob was not the man to let slip 

 an occasion, if it could be used in any way ; and of the 

 present he determined to make the best, for the 

 circumstances. Of bullets, which were almost indis- 

 pensable, he had none, save at home; and to fetch 

 them was out of the question. Slugs were of no use, 

 unless he could get very near the game. But as there 

 was no remedy for it, he was fain to make a trial. 

 Accordingly he set off by a circuitous route, through 

 paths best known to himself, hoping that the deer 

 might slacken their pace, and he might yet intercept 

 them before they were lost in the mountain. 



After a forced march of some three miles he gained 

 a spot whence, with the wind in his favour, he could 

 command a view of them as they approached, if they 

 had not already passed; and as he could detect no 

 fresh tracts, he concluded that he was beforehand with 

 them. Here, therefore, he took his stand, and, located 

 behind a large grey rock, waited anxiously for their 

 approach. 



Presently they were in view, the big stag leading the 

 way, and gradually came nearer, all unsuspicious of the 

 hidden danger ; at length the much-coveted prize was 

 within range. With a bullet the practised eye of the 

 poacher could have made sure of him ; but with the 

 means he had at hand Rob doubted his powers. 



Still, however, Hope, "heaven-born maid," whispered 

 encouragement; and now the animal was within fifty 

 yards, he began to snuff the air suspiciously, and no 

 time was to be lost. A keen eye glanced down the 

 barrel cautiously projected over the edge of the rock, a 

 steady ringer pulled the trigger, a sharp report awoke 



