212 WILD SPOUTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [CHAP. xxvi. 



just as a bullock does when rising from his night's lair. My heart 

 throbbed, as turning all round he seemed to try the wind for his 

 security, and then walked straight to the burn, at a point about one 

 hundred and fifty yards from me. I was much tempted, but had 

 resolution to reserve my fire, reflecting that I had but one barrel. 

 He went into the burn at a deep pool, and standing in it up to 

 his knees, took a long drink. I stooped to put on a new copper 

 cap and prick the nipple of my rifle ; and on looking up again, 

 lie was gone ! I was in despair ; and was on the point of moving 

 rashly, when I saw his horns again appear a little farther off', 

 but not more than fifty yards from the burn. By -and- by they 

 lowered, and I judged he was lying down. " You are mine at 

 last," I said ; and I crept cautiously up the bed of the burn till 

 I was opposite where he had lain down. I carefully and inch 

 by inch placed my rifle over the bank, and then ventured to look 

 along it. I could see only his horns, but within an easy shot. 

 I was afraid to move higher up the bed of the burn, where I 

 could have seen his body ; the direction of the wind made that 

 dangerous. I took breath for a moment, and screwed up my 

 nerves ; and then with my cocked rifle at my shoulder and my 

 finger on the trigger, I kicked a stone which splashed into the 

 water. He started up instantly ; but exposed only his front 

 towards me. Still he was very near, scarcely fifty yards, and I 

 fired at his throat just where it joins the head. He dropped on 

 his knees to my shot ; but was up again in a moment, and went 

 staggering up the hill. Oh, for one hour of Bran ! Although 

 he kept on at a mad pace, I saw he was becoming too weak for 

 the hill. He swerved and turned back to the burn ; and came 

 headlong down within ten yards of me, tumbling into it ap- 

 parently dead. Feeling confident, from the place where my ball 

 had taken effect, that he was dead, I threw down my rifle, and 

 went up to him with my hunting-knife. I found him stretched 

 out, and as I thought dying ; and I laid hold of his horns to 

 raise his head to bleed him. I had scarcely touched him when 

 he sprang up, flinging me backwards on the stones. It was an 

 awkward position. I was stunned by the violent fall ; behind 

 me was a steep bank of seven or eight feet high ; before me the 

 bleeding stag with his horns levelled at me, and cutting me off 

 from my rifle. In desperation I moved ; when he instantly 



