TWO AT ONE STALK. 55 



spell nor pronounce the name of that particular corrie, although I 

 could go to it and all round it in the dark and never miss a peat hag 

 or fail to fall over a single boulder. 



Shades of all those who knew the windy Kansas plains at their best, 

 how the wind did wind this day! And the rain riot and the sleet 

 sting. Whew ! it was a fierce day, and so cold on the upper heights 

 that standing still meant the shivers in about two shakes of an active 

 stag's tail. 



I had gone up with an old stalker named Sandy, now mostly dis- 

 placed from the higher grade to the rank of gillie, through certain 

 dimness of perception and lack of skill, combined result of advancing 

 age and too many long looks upon the bottle, and with Sandy I 

 fought the tempest in pursuit of a likely stag from early morning 

 until two o'clock, practically without pause. 



The wind was a difficult one to deal with and the ground extremely 

 rough and troublesome to navigate. We made several stalks which 

 seemed to me unwisely planned and not well carried out, having grown 

 to some knowledge of the game after being with Donald and Danny. 



Very greatly to my surprise, I must confess, after negotiating a 

 grassy slope which was so steep that we had to go down flat- 

 wise clinging with all our strength, Sandy brought me out on a 

 little rocky ledge from which he pointed to the deer feeding in the 

 lee of the cliff about 200 yards away, in a straight line from where 

 I lay. 



I had no trouble in distinguishing the stag we had been pursuing 

 among this lot of some twenty and I saw what appeared to be two 

 good sized stags. I whispered to Sandy, as we looked over with one 

 eye only; "Are those other two stags shootable ones?" and when he 

 answered yes, I questioned "If I shoot the large one shall I shoot the 

 second if I can?" 



"Yes," said Sandy, "shoot all three of them if the General wishes." 

 But I thought I detected a hint of hesitation in his tone, and besides 

 that it seemed to me two stags would be enough, if I could get two; 

 which I might, if lucky enough to place my first bullet where I wanted 

 it. I had a fairly good position for a shot, but the wind was fear- 

 fully strong. I took my time; held until I felt quite sure, and I was 

 absolutely certain that the front sight was in the bottom of the V. 



