THE ISLAND OF HITTEREN 51 



skill, been better directed. The stag was just dis- 

 appearing as I had fired it. We went forward in the 

 dusk, found him halting and limping down the hill 

 among the rocks, shot through the ribs, and promptly 

 finished him. He carried a very fine eleven-point 

 head one of the very best. 



A very dilapidated and exhausted, yet light-hearted, 

 stalker reached Havn about eleven o'clock that night. 



I have spoken of the native stalkers of Hitteren. 

 None of them, so far as my experience goes, can 

 compare for science and skill with the best Scotch 

 stalkers. The most scientific Norwegian stalker I 

 ever met, and a thoroughly accomplished and un- 

 scrupulous poacher, was a schoolmaster on the island 

 of Tusteren. This by the way. But many of the 

 old Hitteren natives had served a long apprenticeship 

 in wood stalking with a 'gammel Norske rifler,' a 

 ponderous muzzle-loading rifle of wondrous dimen- 

 sions, a marvel to see. Up to 100 yards this weapon 

 threw a heavy round bullet from a barrel 5 feet long 

 or so with great accuracy. The native c Jager ' 

 seldom missed a standing chance at point - blank 

 range, and generally took a rest on some moss- 

 covered rock or bunch of heather. I know several 

 Hitteren natives who tell me they have killed, in old 

 times, their hundred deer. At a moving or running 

 deer they never used to shoot. The Norske rifle is 

 useless for the purpose. Occasionally they drove to 

 passes, when the wily hunter would endeavour to stop 

 the passing deer by a whistle or imitation bellow, and 

 so get a standing shot. If this device failed, the 

 trigger was not pressed. I shall never forget the 

 contempt displayed many years ago by the Tusteren 

 native hunters for my single *500 bore Henry express 



42 



