148 THE FINEST SPORT 



fatal spot where the lines of the fore-leg and 

 belly meet ; and I press the trigger. What 

 a bound ! But his legs fail him as he alights, 

 and he rolls over and over down a snow- 

 slope. No fear of his rising again. 



As soon as I have recovered my shoes 

 and other impedimenta I follow him, and put 

 the tape on his horns. Ten inches and an 

 eighth ! Well worth the trouble they cost 

 to get. I should not care to eat him, but 

 the foresters do, so I gralloch him, and mark 

 the spot as best I can for the man whom I 

 shall send for him this evening. 



This is the baldest description of a stalk, 

 and one, too, of the simplest and safest kind. 

 I have not dwelt on the natural beauties of 

 the ground we encounter in this sport, 

 although it is not too much to say that if 

 from our hill-top we fail to find our game, 



