186 THE FINAL SHOT. 



After two hours of climbing, our perseverance was 

 rewarded, as we came in view of an immense herd, 

 numbering apparently not much fewer than a hundred 

 deer, and spreading over an open field of snow, half a 

 mile or more in extent, but at such an elevation that 

 it was vain, in the present state of things, to think of 

 getting up to them. We could only therefore pause 

 and admire, and then continue our route. Soon we 

 saw another herd, composed almost entirely of stags, 

 of which Gillespie counted not less than forty ; but 

 they were making for the highest passes in the 

 mountain, and as our ambition had somewhat dwindled 

 in its aspirations under the chilling influences of the 

 snow, we did not attempt to follow. Now and then, 

 as we pursued our way, we came across a solitary pair, 

 or a small family of deer ; but all were on the alert, 

 and not to be approached. And as we ourselves were 

 visible to a great distance in the snow, we began to 

 despair of nearing anything, and turned our steps 

 towards home. 



After some time, as we crossed an open moor not 

 often frequented by them, we discovered a herd of ten, 

 occupied in scraping up the snow with their hoofs, and 

 feeding on the grass and moss which they thus laid 

 bare. The position was apparently very favourable, a 

 large ledge of rock intervening between them and our- 

 selves which would effectually screen our approach. 



Though already well nigh wearied out, we lost no 

 time in commencing a forced march towards them, 

 Gillespie, as usual, taking the lead. 



Two stags soon started up in our front, and making 

 straight for the herd bade fair to spoil our sport ; but 

 while we were anxiously watching the result, they 

 unexpectedly turned off to the left, and disappearing 



