40 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



to be harbouring in the wood, than past the big rock 

 behind which I was posted. 



As it happened, a very fine stag was at home in 

 this particular wood that day. Within half an hour 

 of Gabriel's departure I saw the stag a splendid 

 beast gallop out of the cover in front of me, straight 

 towards my post, and then disappear into the steep 

 gully between us. He was obviously in a desperate 

 hurry, having no doubt got Gabriel's wind. 



Then, in my youthful inexperience, I did an unwise 

 thing. I left my post and ran towards him, being 

 afraid he might turn down the steep hill into the 

 thick pine-woods below and to my right. As I ad- 

 vanced, his head and horns appeared for a moment 

 looking at me 50 yards away, and then disappeared 

 again, apparently going to the right and downhill. I 

 ran in that direction, came to the edge of the gully, 

 and at first saw no stag. He had apparently vanished. 



Then, hearing a slight noise, I looked to the left, 

 and saw the stag running hard in the other direction. 

 He had doubled in his tracks when out of sight, and 

 was now 150 yards away, making for the higher 

 fjeld. Instead of the sitting chance he would have 

 given had I been content to wait in my post, the shot 

 was now no easy one, and I missed him clean. The 

 fine head that I saw he carried over the far skyline 

 caused me many a subsequent pang of deep regret. 

 The moral of the incident clearly was, Be careful 

 how you leave your post in a drive. 



Incident number two was of a different kind, and, 

 as a matter of fact, I eventually obtained the head of 

 the stag in question. 



I was out alone for an early morning stalk on the 

 Sanstad beat, near Havn, not many days before the 



