DEER-STALKING. 183 



as "Bromley" — no courtesy titles or prefixes in 

 Norway — pleases, but his opinion is with the old 

 prophet's — he is for home. 



Thus out-voted and unable to face the responsi- 

 bility should evil befall either of them, even if none 

 did me, I silently bow my head and give the signal 

 to descend. We have actually proceeded some 

 distance on our downward course when, in one of 

 my many lingering looks behind, I see something 

 on the sky-line which makes me stop suddenly, 

 pull out my glass and level it in the direction where 

 we last saw the deer. Yes ! I was not deceived ! 

 I distinctly see the horns of the big stag on the 

 sky-line — not moving forwards, but ttndulating up 

 and doiuii. A cry of savage joy escapes me, for 

 I well know what this means, and I sternly inform 

 my companions that they may do as they like, but 

 that I shall remain where I am, or seek such 

 shelter as I can find till daylight, when I will go 

 and put an end to the sufferings of the poor beast, 

 who was dying above us. The old hunter also looks 



