THAT MAINLAND STAG 65 



as I saw a widespread head of horns above a galloping 

 stag, coming straight out of the thick wood and 

 towards where I sat. My heart began to thump. 

 If he kept his course, it would take him to within 

 a few yards of where I waited, finger on trigger and 

 thumb on bolt, with deadly purpose in my heart. But 

 some 300 yards away he turned across the glade and 

 took the other belt. The excitement now was painful. 

 Instead of an easy chance, it was going to be a long 

 and difficult one. Without a pause he came down the 

 further belt of wood, and was never clear of trees 

 until within 30 yards of the stream he ran into the 

 open, plainly a heavy and truly splendid stag, the very 

 animal we were after. Once over the water and into 

 the pine-woods on the other side, the chance would be 

 gone. As he came into the open I gave a shrill 

 whistle. He promptly stopped in his stride, for a 

 moment at gaze, 180 yards away (we stepped the 

 distance after). ' Now or never,' thought I, as with 

 savage intent I steadied for two seconds the foresight 

 on his shoulder and pressed the trigger. He sprang 

 forward at the shot, clear of the smoke. Again the 

 second barrel I swung the sight to where neck joined 

 shoulder, and pressed trigger anew as he galloped 

 for the stream. He fell headlong with a crash. The 

 stag was mine. 



A light-hearted party returned to the sseter that 

 night. Our particular ambition was achieved. The 

 stag weighed piecemeal 28 stone of fat meat and 

 bone, and carried a heavy eleven-point head with 

 perfect tops, but with one bay tine missing. The 

 shots, we found, had been lucky. The first had 

 pierced his shoulder ; the second broke his neck. He 

 never knew what killed him. 



5 



