THE WEST HILL, FARLEY 43 



and south sides of the West Hill opposite; and 

 lunch and a good long pipe after the long run 

 having revived our failing strength, we decided 

 to go for a very good switch that was close at hand 

 and in an easy position to get at. It turned out 

 not so easy as it looked, and I could not get nearer 

 than 200 yards, and hit him in the fore leg, and 

 he reared straight up on his hind legs, looking an 

 enormous height; then he limped off, and we 

 limped after him, mindful of our morning's loss, 

 and I got him in the neck at 200 yards, and we 

 remembered no more our travail for joy that a 

 stag was slain. He weighed 14 stone 9 pounds. 

 Having signalled for Sandy and the pony, and as 

 it was still early, we decided to have another try 

 on the western slope of the West Hill, and soon 

 spied a nice 9-pointer with a good head, which was 

 stalked without incident, and a downhill shot at 

 about 150 yards resulted in No. 2 being in the 

 larder that evening, weighing 14 stone 4 pounds. 

 We were very tired when we got back to the car 

 five miles distant after three stalks and a very long 

 run half round the West Hill. We had to walk 

 all the way as both the ponies had other burdens 

 to bear. 



Next day, the 13th (my lucky number, for I 

 am a thirteenth child and was born at No. 13), 

 I was out again with Davie, with whom I was 

 always lucky till this year. Would Fortune smile 

 on us again, or would she still frown ? We had 



