INCIDENTS OF STILL-HUNTING 247 



we were wet to the skin, and there that wretched animal 

 kept us for fully a quarter of an hour without moving. I 

 began to shiver, and my teeth to chatter, but still he kept 

 his neck stiff and straight. At last, after what seemed an 

 age, he moved on a few yards and we raced for the bushes. 

 Here, another staring match ensued, till Joe, losing patience, 

 said, " I don't think that stag quite make us out. He think 

 we's another stag, so I ' toll ' him." 



The Indian thereupon commenced an appalling series 

 of loud grunts, enough, as I thought, to scare every deer 

 out of the country ; but not so our amorous friend, who at 

 once replied with similar noises, and trotted up to within 

 150 yards. The sun had set, so I could not see his horns 

 properly, but Joe said they were better than those I had 

 obtained in the morning, so, getting a good rest, I fired, 

 and struck the stag in the middle of the chest. He galloped 

 off madly, so fast that I felt sure the shot was fatal, and 

 did not fire again. After going about 50 yards he tripped 

 over a hummock and fell dead. 



" As big a stag as I see," pronounced Joe, as we gazed 

 on the fallen one ; but his head, which appeared big in the 

 evening light, although a fair one, was disappointing, and 

 I had to reckon it amongst the mistakes every hunter 

 makes in dealing with these deer. 



After cutting off the head and recovering our kettles 

 and clothes, we made for camp, a distance of seven or 

 eight miles. Most of this was tough walking, where alders 

 slashed you in the face and unseen holes and swamps met 

 you at every step, but we accomplished it in the semi- 

 darkness without mishap, and so got home after a hard 

 though most enjoyable day. 



All the half-wooded country on the north bank, between 



