14 FARLEY, 1915 



rather suspicious, but inclined to begin feeding, 

 so we gave them half an hour to settle down, and 

 then managed to crawl and slither to about 

 250 yards from them, when up went their heads, 

 and Davie advised me to chance it. So I fired, 

 and the 6-pointer gave a huge kick, and off they 

 galloped and disappeared immediately over another 

 ridge, and I thought all was lost. But Davie 

 seemed confident, and down we went top speed, 

 and when we got to the ridge, there was our friend 

 lying stone dead with the bullet through his heart, 

 and we were not more than a quarter of a mile 

 from Davie's house. Needless to say, it was the 

 nearest to home I ever got a stag. He was a fine 

 fat beast with long, stout horns, and his head is 

 now the pride of my dining-room ; his weight was 

 16 stone. A long, lucky shot, and the only stag 

 I am ever likely to get so low down. 



The 9th of October was our last stalking, and 

 I had two stags to get to make up my number. 

 There were evidently a good number of stags in the 

 wood from the roaring, so the wood was driven, 

 but in vain till the last drive before lunch, when 

 I got a medium beast at the north drive. After 

 lunch we went out and climbed to the top of the 

 rocks and spied some stags lying down on the 

 top of a ridge some way off " an awfu' long way," 

 Davie described it; but we promised him a long 

 drink if he brought it off, and so, lamenting the 

 distance, we started off. It proved a desperately 



