DEER-STALKING. 195 



I am puzzled and vexed. " Load quick," whispers 

 the old hunter, and I hurriedly do so ; but as 

 I am in the act of ramming down the bullet it 

 was long before the days of the blessed breech- 

 loader hethe old hunter utterly abandoning the 

 " sotto voce" of the hills, shouts aloud, " Han 

 falcler!" "He falls!" which, indeed, looking up 

 from my task I see him doing, tumbling forward 

 on his knees, and breaking, alas ! one of his splendid 

 horns the while and is off full-speed over the 

 snow, up-hill and steep as it is ; and, old as he is, 

 he has reached the stag, and, with butcherous and 

 uneducated violence, has cut a great hole in his 

 throat, through which he pulls and completely severs 

 the windpipe, before I, young as I am, can get 

 up to him with my reloaded weapon. He is a 

 grand beast, the dimensions of his feet alone, the 

 deep impressions of which in moss and snow had 

 so filled me with awe during yesterday's stalk, 

 testify to his unusual size and weight, and I count 

 no less than forty-seven points on his horns. 



o 2 



