THE STAG. 57 



leading, now driving them, by the power of its fascina- 

 tion. 



But let us now turn to the Stag himself, and study 

 his nature, habits, and peculiarities. 



In the first three days after birth, the little animal, 

 called a calf, is so helpless that it may be taken with the 

 hand. The spot where it first sees the light, is generally 

 the densest part of the forest and the most lonely ; where 

 no wanderer, not even the solitary wood-cutter is likely 

 to disturb the watchful mother and her newly born. 

 During the first days, the hind scarcely leaves her off- 

 spring for a moment. It is always a pleasing, nay, 

 almost a touching sight, to see any mother fondly tend- 

 ing her little one : and such cherishing love and ma- 

 ternal tenderness, make us even forget the presence 

 of ugliness, and cause it to appear beautiful. But when 

 the actors in such family scene have in themselves the 

 forms of beauty, there is added to the glad emotions of 

 the heart the sensuous enjoyment which grace and re- 

 finement give ; and we have a picture in every sense 

 the most lovely that nature or art can afford. 



There is lightness in the body and in the step of the 

 red-deer ; there is gentleness in the expression ; and in 

 the calf, whose coat is now dappled with white spots, 

 all that we find to admire in the hind is repeated with 

 the prettiness of infancy. It follows its mother closely, 

 now gamboling around her, now stopping to suck ; but 



