LIFE AT ROSEHALL. 



37 



looking up once, I could still get on unobserved. Inch by inch 

 I crawled ; as I neared the stone my task was easier, as the 

 ground sank a little and the heather was longer. At last I 

 reached the place, and saw the tips of his horns not above eighty 

 yards from me. I had no fear of losing him now ; so, taking 

 out the cork from my rifle, I stretched my limbs one by one, and 

 prepared to rise to an attitude in which I could shoot ; then, 

 pushing my rifle slowly forward, I got the barrel over the stone 

 unperceived, and rose very gradually on one knee. The stag 

 seemed to be intent on watching the face of the opposite hill, 

 and, though I was partially exposed, did not see me ; his attitude 



was very favourable, which is seldom the case when a stag is 

 lying down ; so, taking a deliberate aim at his shoulder, I was on 

 the point of firing, when he suddenly saw me, and jumping up, 

 made off as hard as he could. He went in a slanting direction, 

 and before he had gone twenty yards I fired. I was sure that I 

 was steady on him, but the shot only seemed to hurry his pace ; 

 on he went like an arrow out of a bow, having showed no 

 symptom of being hurt beyond dropping his head for a single 

 moment. 



I remained motionless in despair ; a more magnificent stag I 

 had never seen, and his bright red colour and white-tipped horns 

 showed me that he was the very animal I had so often seen and 



