266 CHECKMATED. 



One morning as I was proceeding to the lower part of 

 the middle crags Francis pointed out a fine stag feeding 

 under the cliffs, so we immediately started to stalk him. I 

 got to the cliff above him and as I craned over, I saw him 

 looking at me. I had to fire right down on his back, and as 

 he dashed away I gave him the other barrel. He pulled 

 up a long way out of shot, turned round and deliberately 

 looked at us. With the glass I could see quite plainly, two 

 wounds — one on the withers and the other evidently a flesh 

 wound on the fore arm — there he stood, every now and 

 again raising his injured leg and afraid to move. He had 

 taken up a very commanding position on the spur of the 

 mountain, and after watching him for a quarter of an hour 

 I left Francis to occupy his attention while I endeavoured 

 to stalk up to him from below. However, it was such a 

 still evening that he could hear every rustle of the grass 

 as I approached, and long before I got within fair shot 

 he saw me, and I had to remain where I was for more 

 than half an hour, regularly checkmated. At last he 

 disappeared over the brow, and I was immediately up and 

 after him, but he had gone down the mountain and I 

 saw him far down below us close to the forest, going 

 uncommonly strong for a wounded one. He was a very 

 large stag, as Francis said, like a buffalo, with handsome 

 horns ; it was disappointing not getting him, and I was by 

 no means pleased with my shooting ; however, there is this 

 to be said that shots from above are more likely than any 

 others to glance and miss the vital parts. 



I was anxious to get a stag which I had known for some 

 time, and which frequented a small wood at the foot of a 

 precipitous rock, so one cold frosty morning in January, 1869, 



