A LOST STAG. 69 



I cautioned the men particularly to identify, if they could, the 

 stag I had shot at for the purpose of seeing in what way he ap- 

 peared to be wounded. They seemed in some doubt as the last of 

 the animals disappeared, but John said finally he thought all the 

 deer appeared to be unharmed, and he said he believed, although he 

 was not sure, that the animal I had shot was among them. I could 

 not credit that statement as the true state of affairs. 



We were just about to get up and go on when, still gazing through 

 my glasses, I spied a moving object traveling in the trace of the 

 herd which had so lately gone from sight. I called, quickly, "John, 

 there's my deer ! Just going up where the others did. Look at him 

 and see if his right foreleg is not broken?" It was true. It seemed 

 almost incredible and I would never have believed it if I had not 

 seen similar wonderful efforts on the part of three-legged deer upon 

 other occasions ; that this stag should follow the herd over the rough 

 ground and be but some three or four hundred yards behind. 



The three glasses glued to him seemed to give our hunted creature 

 a new lease of life. He went on the way the other deer had traveled, 

 disappearing in his turn. Then a portion of the original herd with 

 our wounded one 200 yards or more in the rear came in sight, further 

 along to the left toward the hilltop and again disappeared. We 

 waited for a time sufficient to justify me in believing that the deer 

 were not coming into our range of vision again ; therefore, we must go 

 to where we could see. 



I told John we would have to run to the top of the mountain 

 where we had last seen the deer, and I instructed him to go on as 

 fast as he could, which would surely be at a greater speed than I 

 could compass. When he came to the top he was to spy in every 

 direction for the wounded stag. I would catch up with him as quickly 

 as I could. 



Running and making one's very best speed over rock-strewn and 

 precipitous ground is an exciting sport. I recommend it to those 

 who suffer from a sluggish liver or an overpowering ennui. It was 

 a windy day but no rain was falling. I had not noticed the wind 

 particularly until I came out upon the crest well blown and with 

 pulses which throbbed furiously, to find myself battling against a 

 wind which almost took me from my feet. 



