Some Harmless Beasts. 165 



Shoots to the woodlands with her bounding fawn, 



And drops of blood bedew the conscious lawn ; 



Tliere hid in shades she shuns the cheerful day, 



Hangs o'er her young and weeps her life away." ^ — Dar-aiin. 



Nor are the poets unaware of the real reason for this 

 retirement— namely, the instinct of the herd to drive away 

 from their company any individual that is crippled or in- 

 firm, as being a source of common danger. The limping 

 comrade might bring the huntsman on its heels, upon the 

 whole herd at rest, and the forester coming upon a sick 

 deer would know that the rest of the antlers were not 

 far off. 



Tliis selfishness is carried to a cruel extreme when deer, 

 seeing one of their number in distress, refuse him asylum ; 

 and the habit of the herd to repulse a member when in 

 danger is noted by Leyden and by Thomson — " the watch- 

 ful herd alarmed, with selfish care avoid a brotb.er's woe." 

 Scott, too, refers to it in — 



" The Douglas like a stricken deer 

 Disowned by every noble peer." 



Somerville also has of the hunted stag — 



" He mingles with the herd where once he reigned 

 Proud monarch of the groves, whose clashing beam 

 His rivals awed, and whose exalted power 

 Was still rewarded with successful love. 

 But the base herd have, learned the ways of men — 

 Averse they fly, or with rebellious aim 

 Chase him from thence." 



* Pope has- 



" So the struck deer, in some sequestered part, 

 Lies down to die (tlie arrow in his heart) : 

 There, hid in shades and wasting day by day. 

 Inly he bleeds and pants his soul away." 



