82 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



The men reposed in silence on the heather. This 

 was the crowning, piled- up sorrow of the day. A 

 third stag, and a right good one, practically missed! 

 The wound, wherever it was, could only have been 

 a slight one. 



The varied incidents of the three different stalks 

 were reviewed in my mind with recurring persistence 

 and accumulated vexation. The thought of what our 

 bag of deer that day might have been, but was not, 

 only added point to the annoying recollection. Then 

 a thought suddenly occurred to my mind. 



' These stags of yours are shot-proof, Donald, or 

 the devil's in the rifle. Let me have a look at it.' 



Donald took my rifle from the cover, and, as he 

 handed it, looked for a moment at the sights, and 

 then, ' Is that backsight all right, sir ?' said he. 



I glanced at the sight in question, and then let 

 fall some observations that are not contained in any 

 English dictionary. The sight was shifted about an 

 eighth of an inch to the right. Some slight blow 

 had done it, and it was only now, late in the after- 

 noon, when three stags had been approached, shot at, 

 and missed, and the day's work was done, that I had 

 thought to examine the weapon, and so discovered the 

 displacement. It merely aggravated the annoyance 

 of the mischance that it was remedied in a moment. 

 The sight was gently knocked back with the handle 

 of a knife, and the weapon at once restored to its 

 former condition of efficiency. It was only a simple 

 matter of subsequent calculation to ascertain that 

 the displacement of the sight made the rifle shoot 

 10 inches to the right at 100 yards, and so on in 

 proportion to the distance of the shot. The lesson 

 thus taught me, in a manner impossible to forget, 



