DEER-STALKING. 



sir, and shoot him between the horns the moment his head 

 comes ower the knowe." I had scarcely altered my position, 

 when head, horns, and all, appeared in full view. Seeing us 

 in a moment, he was out of sight at a bound, but, taking a 

 direction round the base of the hillock, presented his broadside 

 a beautiful cross-shot. I had plenty of time for deliberate 

 aim, and the Eed Knight of the Wilds lay low and bleeding. 



It was now nearly four o'clock, and the forester had some 

 doubts whether we could get him to Inveroran that night ; 

 but as I was anxious to start early in the morning, we de- 

 spatched the follower for a cart, and with great difficulty 

 dragged the stag by the horns down the hill to the road. 

 Notwithstanding the weather, I had been delighted with my 

 expedition, and only regretted having killed the younger and 

 victorious champion instead of his more bulky rival. During 

 our walk to the inn, I had many anecdotes of former bloody 

 deeds in the forest from Eobertson, and not a few where the 

 balls had flown scathless. One, in particular, amused me. 

 The Marquis, accompanied by two friends one of them, I 

 should imagine, more famous for his scientific than sporting 

 qualifications was stalking some very fine harts. When 

 within rifle-distance, his lordship and one of his friends were 

 crawling over a knoll, in order to select the best of the lot. 

 " What are they about up there ? " said the virtuoso. " There 

 are the deer." Bang ! bang ! Off went the harts in a twink- 

 ling, wishing, I have no doubt, that they had always such fair 

 warning when danger was near. 



We passed, during the day, several forest-baths, in full use 

 i.e., moss-holes where the stags plunge up to the neck and 

 roll about to cool themselves, in summer and autumn. When 

 they come out again, black as pitch, they look like the evil 

 genii of the mountain. In former times poachers used to 

 fasten spears with the points upward in these places, and 

 when the stag threw himself into the hole, he was impaled. 



Lord Breadalbane has a very fine kennel of dogs exclusively 



