SEPTEMBER 217 



crawl down hill with head much lower than his heels, 

 through bog and burn, till there is not a dry stitch on 

 him, may bring him to the desired range ; the rifle is 

 thrust into his hands ; he receives a hoarsely- whispered 

 injunction to 'take him' (i.e. the stag) 'NOW!' With 

 throbbing temples and swimming eyes he struggles 

 into the nearest approach to a firing position which he 

 can assume on ground sloping at an angle of forty 

 degrees ; and if he manages to hit the dusky form, 

 one hundred or one hundred and fifty yards away, 

 nobody is so much surprised as himself. 



But other ch&ices occur in which all the odds are in 

 favour of the marksman, and such was the case on this 

 day. About one o'clock we found a party of fifteen 

 stags and a lot of hinds far below us on the western 

 side of the hill, and spent about an hour stalking them. 

 There was only one ' shootable ' beast among them, but 

 he was a very grand stag, and deep was my chagrin that 

 long before we got near them something moved the 

 herd, and they went off at a trot round the flank of 

 the hill. Up the steep again we climbed ; but we had 

 not been travelling another hour before we saw the 

 same deer, having taken up their position on the crest 

 of a kind of pass between two hills. It was about as 

 bad a place to approach unseen as could be. The 

 ground fell sharply away on the only side which the 

 wind would permit to be taken, very smooth, with no 

 friendly gully or shelter. 



What was to be done ? 



Well, my stalker said we must remain as we were till 



