10 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



wooded eastern shoulder of the fjeld all undisturbed 

 in front of me. Gradually I advanced, without seeing 

 sign of deer, until I reached the farthest point, where 

 I insinuated myself behind a convenient rock on the 

 crest of the hill and sat down to gaze. The sun was 

 near to setting. Before me, and below for miles 

 around, spread the pine-forests, lakes and marshes of 

 this fair northern land, and far in the distance I could 

 see the smudge of the island Froyen in the shimmer 

 of the North Sea. It was a lovely evening in Sep- 

 tember, and the view at all events was worth some- 

 thing, but for the moment there was no sign of the 

 deer-life I had come to seek, and perhaps to take. A 

 passing regret that the eight-pointer had been spared 

 crossed my mind. Presently, glancing downwards 

 through glades of birch and pine, a feeding hind came 

 into sight 200 yards away. The ground, then, ,was 

 undisturbed : that at all events was satisfactory. I 

 looked yet closer down the steep hillside below me, 

 where little ravines scarred the wooded fjeld. Sud- 

 denly a movement through the birch- scrub caught my 

 eye. The next moment I made out a splendid pair of 

 horns, apparently sticking out of the hillside. They 

 were being rubbed against a tree by some invisible 

 agency. My heart began to thump, and I gradually 

 thrust the rifle-barrel over the rock in front of 

 where I sat. The next few seconds seemed hours, 

 but at length a splendid stag followed the horns, and 

 fed out of a hollow about 80 yards straight under- 

 neath. For some time I could not see, for intervening 

 birch-trees, that part of his back behind the shoulder 

 that I wanted ; but it came into sight at length, for 

 two brief thrilling seconds was aligned on the rifle- 

 barrel, then the sharp crack of the rifle-shot re-echoed 



