DEVON AND SOMERSET. 241 



worse, while the hounds are very apt to 

 dislodge loose stones and boulders, and to 

 make matters very precarious for the venturous 

 few who climb down to witness the last 

 scene, and to assist in the difficult task of 

 securing a fighting stag on such dangerous 

 ground. 



At times a stag will take to salt water, and 

 after a short swim will come ashore again, only 

 to find himself confronted by the huntsman and 

 his pack, emerging from behind some mighty 

 rock to close with him in the tumbling surf. 

 Looking down from the heights above, the 

 majority of the held gets a birds-eye view of 

 the tiny figures below ; the deer plainly outlined 

 against the white boiling streak of surf, the 

 hounds just visible as black dots, a dozen or so 

 of people on foot, crawling slowly and with 

 difficulty over the boulders, which at that height 

 appear no more than pebbles. Here the 

 melodious sound of the bay is heard to its 

 utmost perfection, the dull booming of the waves 

 giving a setting as it were to the mingled roar 

 from some twenty or thirty deep-toned throats 

 that rolls and echoes up the age-worn cliffs, 

 while the horn, thin and distant, sounds silvery 

 and high above the chorus. 



Deer have not unfrequently to be left where 

 they are killed amongst the rocks, and some- 

 times even it proves impossible to draw the 



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