240 NEWFOUNDLAND 



ing, came down in torrents, so we retreated into a birch droke 

 at the riverside, where we lit a fire and kept watch alternately 

 up and down the river. At about 2,30 I saw a stag skirting 

 the timber in a bend of the river some 600 yards away ; the 

 wind could not have been worse, and appeared to blow directly 

 from us to the spot whence the animal was slowly moving 

 along with its head down. As he did not seem to "get" us, 

 I resolved on a sharp run in — the only action possible, for 

 in another minute the stag would turn up into the woods and 

 be lost for good. The rocks were wet and slippery, but we 

 raced along, keeping an eye fixed on the stag the whole time. 

 Once he raised his head and looked about, and we sank into 

 the soaking grass and bush ; and then on again at the risk of 

 breaking our legs for another 300 yards. As we approached 

 the stag, which was on the other side of the river at a sharp 

 bend, I saw how it was that he had not received our wind — 

 a broad ride of low forest here intersected the high trees and 

 formed a sort of air-chute from the west, which, meeting 

 another wind and our scent winding down the river from the 

 north-west, bore it outwards and upwards before it reached 

 the stag. We were now within 100 yards, so McGaw sat 

 down and fired, as the head was a good one. The first bullet 

 went over the animal's back, but had the effect of driving the 

 deer out of the wood into the open. A second shot seemed 

 more successful, as I saw the stag wince and a moment after 

 come rushing for the river, which it endeavoured to cross. 

 Here McGaw fired three more shots without effect, as he had 

 become a bit excited and had emptied his magazine. But 

 no more were necessary, as the noble beast, throwing up his 

 head, plunged madly about for a few moments and rolled over 

 dead in the stream. 



My friend was now full of joy, as he feared he had missed 



