MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 63 



more than glance at the beast, which was walking quickly 

 along in the grey dawn. In a few minutes Jack and I had 

 reached the edge of the hill forest up into which the stag 

 would presently pass, when to my extreme disgust the gale 

 came rushing in a mighty wave over the trees and driving 

 our wind straight towards the now rapidly approaching animal. 

 There was not a moment in which to make a fresh disposi- 

 tion. It was one of those occasions when action decisive and 

 immediate was imperative ; consequently I ran with all my 

 might to come within view of the main lead up the hill, so 

 that even if the stag bolted I should at any rate get a running 

 shot. But this was not to be, and I lost the finest horned 

 stag I had till then ever seen. As I ran along the wood edge, 

 and was still about 250 yards from him, I suddenly saw him 

 throw up his mighty antlered head and spring into the air, 

 as a caribou stag generally does when he gets the wind. A 

 frightened deer will usually halt a moment or two and give 

 you time for a shot, but this fellow seemed to know some- 

 thing about men, and at once made off down wind as hard 

 as his legs could carry him. He was in the worst kind of 

 hummocky ground, and I fired three hopeless shots at his 

 retreating form before he jerked round the edge of the 

 forest arm, and disappeared for ever. Then I went home 

 miserable. 



On the way back I met Saunders, who, with the kindest 

 intentions, endeavoured to cheer me by saying that this stag 

 carried the finest horns he had ever seen in his life. He, 

 moreover, asked permission to take my rifle and follow the 

 stag as he felt sure I had hit him. I was equally certain that 

 I had not touched the beast, and should indeed have been 

 surprised if I had ; but Saunders, who cherished an altogether 

 unwarrantable view of my shooting powers, considered it 



