THE OLD BUCK. 297 



yonder, for example, near those stones — and I be lucky 

 enough to bring him down, how proudly should I re- 

 turn home and relate that the old buck had at last 

 fallen ! Then too, in after-times, when the keepers 

 would talk of their exploits, and of the noble stags or 

 sturdy chamois that had fallen here and there, — each 

 one remembered as accurately, with place and date, 

 as a succession of monarchs, — then would this famous 

 buck be mentioned, and they would tell how he had been 

 often followed in vain, and how at last "the English- 

 man "* brought him death. 



And these fine imaginings were all I had, for no 

 chamois came. At length, high up among the latschen 

 the young forester appeared, making his way downward 

 as well as he was able : he had seen nothing, it was 

 therefore evident the wary old buck had betaken himself 

 to some remoter stronghold. 



Such a place as that where I was watching is my de- 

 light — is the delight indeed of every hunter ; for from 

 it I could have seen the game, had any come, long be- 

 fore it reached me. And this is always pleasant ; not 

 only because it gives you time for preparation, but on 

 account of the delicious excitement you feel in every 

 vein, from the moment you espy the coming creature 

 till that other moment when you feel it is your own. 

 Your hopes, your fears, your longings — all that makes 

 up the sum of the enjoyment — is thus heightened by 

 being prolonged. You watch its approach with greedy 

 eyes, and full of anxieties : the excitement would choke 

 you if it lasted long • yet two such minutes — and they 

 seem hours — arc worth whole ordinary days. 



The nutter and nervousness felt by him whose whole 

 heart is in the chase, when he first is in presence of 



* " Dei* Ilcrr Englander," as the people always named me. 



