347 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



TRACKING THE WOUNDED STAG. 



At a little past three o'clock the next morning I awoke, 

 and lay for some time listening to the distant roar of the 

 stags, sounding solemn and lugubrious as it did in the 

 silence of the night. Hans was soon stirring j and kick- 

 ing aside the hay, I groped my way down the ladder and 

 crossed over to the hut. My friend of the knowing wink 

 was already up, and sat, pipe in mouth, over the crack- 

 ling fire he had made for us. A breakfast of some bread 

 and milk, and then taking down our rifles from the 

 rafters of the hut, we slung the rucksacks over our 

 shoulders and set out. 



We went straight in the direction where we had heard 

 the stag the evening before, feeling our way up the 

 mountain-side till we came to the wooded part. Here 

 we stopped to listen, for it was useless to go on without 

 some sound or token by which to direct our steps. We 

 sat down under a fir and waited. After a time we heard 

 above us a short, impetuous, angry bellow, and we in- 

 stantly rose and proceeded on our way, silently and very 

 quietly, yet with all speed. But the stag did not continue 

 to make himself heard : his roar was intermittent, and 

 at distant intervals only a low moan announced that he 

 was still there. We were obliged therefore to halt con- 



