MY FIRST STALK 349 



up wind, when we can get to yon rock.' And so we 

 had to He down, wet to the bone, for an hour and a 

 half before the hinds fed out of our sight ; and when 

 they did so I feh more Hke a mummy than a man, for 

 what with chilled perspiration, mud and peat-bog water, 

 I fully realized that stalking was no such simple work, 

 and I would have given Donald a five-pound note at 

 that moment to show me the shortest way home, for I 

 thought I should have died, and could not have pulled 

 a trigger to save my life. I was actually on the point 

 of asking the shortest way to where we left the ponies, 

 fearing lest I should be done to death by being so 

 chilled, and disgracing myself for ever, when the hinds 

 moved, and the instant they disappeared Donald made 

 right uphill for the rock, getting over the ground as 

 easily as if it were level going. 



The exertion of trying to keep up with him served 

 to restore my circulation, and I really believed at the 

 time saved my life, for I was then unaccustomed to the 

 sensation of being wet through with perspiration and 

 water, and again chilled to the very marrow. Having 

 reached the top of the hill, we crawled carefully over 

 towards the rock where the stag was lying, and to our 

 dismay discovered some more hinds, which we had not 

 before seen, lying down in our way, and so we had 

 again to lie down ; but this time I had the unspeakable 

 pleasure of seeing the quarry which 1 had mentally 

 already doomed to die — as Donald said, a fine stag of 

 ten points — about 145 yards off. Our present quarters 

 were more sheltered than the last, and a nice sloping 

 mound of heather afforded as good a rest for my rifle 

 as I could wish for ; but having settled myself and got 

 ready to fire, Donald informed me that from the 



