CHAP. XXT.] DEATH OF MY FIRST STAG. 175 



ing shot at his shoulder. I immediately touched the trigger, 

 feeling at the same time sure of my aim. The ball went true 

 and down he fell. I began reloading, but before I had half 

 done the stag was up again and making play after the hinds, 

 who were galloping up a gentle slope of the hill. The poor 

 beast was evidently moving with the greatest difficulty and pain ; 

 sometimes coining to his knees, and then recovering himself with 

 a strong effort, he still managed to keep not far behind them. 

 I sat down in utter despair : looking round too for Donald and 

 Bran I could see nothing of them. Between anxiety and vex- 

 ation I did not know what to do. All at once I saw the hinds 

 dash away in different directions, and the next moment my gal- 

 lant Bran appeared in the midst of them. I shouted with joy. 

 On came the dog, taking no notice of the hinds, but making 

 straight for the stag, who stood still for one instant, and then 

 rushed with apparently full vigour down the hill. Down they 

 came towards the burn, the dog not five yards behind the stag, 

 but unable to reach his shoulder (the place where he always 

 struck his game). In a few moments deer and hound went 

 headlong and seemingly both together into the burn. Donald 

 appeared running like a lunatic : with good judgment he had, 

 when I left him, gone to cut off the deer in case I wounded one 

 and it took up the hill. As good luck would have it, the hinds 

 had led off the stag right up to where Donald and Bran were, 

 notwithstanding his inclination to go the other way. I ran to 

 see what had become of them in the burn, expecting to find the 

 stag at bay. When I got there, however, it was all over. The 

 deer had probably tumbled from weakness, and Bran had got his 

 fangs well into the throat of the poor brute before he could rise 

 again. The gallant dog, when I was up with him, lay down 

 panting with his fore-paws on the deer, and wagging his tail 

 seemed to congratulate me on my victory, and to expect to be 

 caressed for his share in it. A fine stag he was, in perfect 

 order, witli noble antlers. Donald added to my satisfaction by 

 applauding my manner of getting up to him, adding that he 

 never would have thought it possible to kill a stag on such bare 

 and flat ground. Little did I feel the fatigue of our three 

 hours' walk, two of them in the dark and hard rain. \Ve did 

 not go home, but went to a shepherd's house, whose in habitants 



