314 EIGHT YEARS AFTER ONE STAG 



the hill. Whilst wriggling myself forward as quietly 

 as I could, I saw the top of the back of a deer, but 

 which of them it was I could not distinguish, as it was 

 so near that it was dangerous to move. It certainly 

 was not more than ten or twelve yards from me, and 

 I naturally thought that it was the small stag which 

 had been the last to disappear over the sky-line. It 

 was an awkward predicament to be in ; I could not 

 conceal myself any better, and I could not get back 

 again, and if he lifted his head he was bound to see my 

 cap, at all events. His head, being downhill, was not 

 visible, and if I put myself in position to shoot the 

 wrong stag, the least rustle would, I thought, be heard, 

 and he would be off and give the alarm. As bad luck 

 would have it, up went his head, and I saw, to my dis- 

 gust, that it was the big stag. I was thunderstruck. 

 The beast had allowed the last of his rear-guard to go 

 in front of him, and had sold me. I had lost five good 

 minutes watching the top of his back, and thought it 

 was the little stag all the time, instead of getting a rest 

 ready. If I Jiad but known, what a deal of disappoint- 

 ment I should have been spared ! However, such is 

 luck. The brute at once saw my cap — there was no 

 getting lower, nothing to hide me now. I crawled 

 slowly back as best I could, and put out my hand for 

 the rifle as he gazed defiantly at me, not dreaming that 

 I was an enemy, with all his guards and currents of wind 

 to protect him, the cunning brute after which I had 

 wasted years. He had fed over that very spot just be- 

 fore, and was on the point of returning to see what sort 

 of an animal it was lying there, when my eye or some- 

 thing moved, and he swung his head across his body just 

 as I had pushed the rifle through the heather and had 



