AN ANXIOUS MOMENT 15 



difficult stalk, as the stags were lying on the top of 

 a long, flat, bare, damp bit of moor with scarcely 

 a hillock, and we had to crawl very, very flat for 

 200 or 300 yards, and mostly through water. We 

 got to about 200 yards from them, and then 

 Davie pronounced it impossible to get any nearer ; 

 so we made ourselves as comfortable as we could 

 in a pool of water, and waited for them to get up. 

 We waited in vain for half an hour, and then 

 whistling was suggested, and tried in vain; then 

 clicking the heels of our shoes together as loudly 

 as we could, also in vain; so finally we shouted at 

 them, and at last they rose and stood on the 

 horizon, of course end on. One step and they 

 would be over the ridge and out of sight; it was 

 an anxious moment, but after a few seconds the 

 beast we had selected as the best turned broadside 

 on, and I fired, and Davie said, " Good shot !" but 

 he and the rest of them went off and were out of 

 sight in one second, and I groaned and dashed 

 forward to the ridge, Davie exhorting me not to 

 hurry. And he was right, for 50 yards over the 

 ridge my stag lay stone dead with the bullet 

 in the right place, and he turned out to be a fine 

 7-pointer, weight 15 stone, whose head adorns 

 the nursery of my fellow-stalker, who saw all the 

 fun and crawled through most of the pools, so she 

 fairly earned her trophy. And so ended my best 

 year of the five on Farley the fewest misses, and 

 the longest shots, and the best heads. 



4 



