A BONNIE WEE HEAD 7 



shot and waited for him to rise. He did not keep 

 us waiting long, for in a few minutes he rose and 

 stood broadside on, and I made no mistake, and 

 he dropped dead. Davie was delighted, and said 

 to me: " Bravo ! you oughtn't to be here; you 

 ought to be shooting Germans !" We paced the 

 distance, and it was 250 yards, so I was on very 

 good terms with myself, especially as it was my 

 tenth stag and made up my number. He was a 

 beautiful 10-pointer with very symmetrical horns, 

 and his head adorns my drawing-room walls; 

 his weight was 14 stone. And so ended a very good 

 season for a beginner hardly a miss to wail 

 over. 



" Oh, the sighing and the sueing 

 When a stalker goes pursuing 

 And he misses ! Food for fishes 

 Only fitted heart of lead 

 Stalker wishes he was dead." 



Plenty of misses in the years to come ; therefore 

 for the moment we will rejoice, and close the 

 chapter with a word or two about my stalker. 

 Dear old Davie Ross was born and bred on Farley, 

 and knows every glade and corrie; though sixty- 

 four years of age, he can still walk and crawl and 

 creep with the best of us, and can go all day on the 

 hill (of the road, as his gude wife says, he is " no 

 very fond," and seldom troubles it except for 

 kirk). What he does not know about deer is 

 hardly worth the trouble of learning, and the best 



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