THE ROE-DEER 189 



entrance into the happy hunting grounds which 

 have since become my chief delight and interest. 



But I love the roe for other reasons as well. 

 He is such a dainty thorough-bred little beast, 

 albeit a bit of a misogynist in captivity. There is 

 something fairy-like and unsubstantial about him, 

 whether he is watched at his pretty love-making, 

 delicately stepping amid the greenery of summer, 

 whilst his lady-love, red as himself, flashes between 

 the birch stems ; or, when his white patch goes 

 bobbing and dancing through the thickets in late 

 October. With the possible exception of some of 

 the smaller African mammals, such as the impala, 

 or Grant's gazelle, there is no beast of the chase 

 which for his size bequeaths so splendid a trophy 

 to his slayer as the roebuck. 



I was almost over-anxious to secure a really 

 good head in China, but the Red Gods averted 

 their faces and I experienced a run of ill-luck 

 which nothing relieved. But a stalker must 

 always make up his mind to one thing ; however 

 fine the trophies he may have secured, he will ever 

 have the rankling recollection of a head or heads 

 beside which his own pale into insignificance. 

 Was there not once a stag in Eskadale ? and even 

 Mr. Selous saw a finer lion than any he has killed. 



'Hope springs eternal in the human breast, 

 Man never is, but always to be blessed. 1 



And so we go on always hoping, for, though the 

 head of heads to-day is feeding out of range, there 

 is ever a to-morrow. There was, too, a ram on 

 Yarlakan of which I have written elsewhere ; now 



