THE STAG. 81 



Now one manages to get a side thrust, and three 

 long, sharp, crowning sprays of each beam are buried 

 in the shoulder and flank of the enemy. It was a home 

 thrust, and has decided the battle. Down he rolls on the 

 earth, wounded to death. But perhaps even then the 

 wrath of the conqueror is unapp eased, and he may 

 continue to vent his rage on his fallen enemy, as 

 though he still were opposed to him in fair fight. 

 The whole herd meanwhile is looking on and watching 

 the encounter. Curiosity is in their gaze, and a little 

 of fright. For it is a deadly joust, and there is a 

 dreadful earnestness in the fierce struggle of the two 

 combatants for victory. 



The time comes at last for the stag to quit the field, 

 and then the place of the redoubtable champion is 

 supplied by the younger males, who, till now, had not 

 dared to show themselves. 



Before the rutting season the good stag is always to 

 be found alone; but now he mixes with others, and 

 with them, as darkness approaches, seeks his food in the 

 fields on the skirts of the forest. There is, however, little 

 to be found, for all are bare and the pastures will soon 

 be covered with snow. He has a hard time before him ; 

 the inclement season is about to begin, and he goes to 

 meet the winter with fleshless and exhausted body. 



If the sportsman is able to imitate correctly the roar 

 of the stag, he may, in the rutting season, entice within 



