78 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



I felt that the reputation of Hitteren riflemen had 

 seriously suffered, and that I had fallen several degrees 

 in Donald's estimation. 



He was politely sympathetic and consoling. It 

 might be that I was not quite used to the light, or 

 perhaps the recent passage across the North Sea had 

 affected my nervous system. ; He was a f air-r stag, 

 but no a varra gude one.' And so we proceeded to 

 look for another. All this time it never occurred to 

 either of us to examine the rifle, my favourite weapon, 

 that had been my constant companion for a month or 

 more that same season already. 



We found another stag within a mile, of course. 

 It always happens that way when something is wrong 

 that has nothing to do with the deer. This time we 

 had a crawl, and the stag again was obliging. I lay at 

 full length behind a convenient hillock, placed exactly 

 at the right angle, took a steady and extra- careful aim 

 at a stag standing absolutely still and three-quarters 

 facing me at 120 yards or thereabouts, pressed the 

 trigger as gradually and firmly as it was in the power 

 of human finger to do, and again made a clean miss. 

 The stag, a fair eight-pointer, turned and ran straight 

 away over the moor, leaving me too surprised and dis- 

 gusted even to think of firing a second barrel at his 

 fast- re treating stern. 



Donald this time said very little. Possibly he 

 thought the more. Within the space of two hours 

 or so he had brought me to within shot of two fairly 

 good stags, in the most skilful and scientific manner, 

 on a forest where there were no steep hills and deep 

 corries, and the stalking was none too easy, and where 

 a thorough knowledge of the ground was absolutely 

 necessary. All I had to do was to hold straight, and 



