20 CHAPTER II. 



From the table, with fragrant cigars glowing, the Chief and I 

 made our way back to the rest room, where in long chairs before 

 the fire the talk gradually veered around to deer stalking. I remember 

 I offered this, when my host said I should stalk on the morrow : 

 "Why, I told you in America that I had not shot a deer for a long 

 time, that I really did not care to shoot one again. I'll be glad 

 enough to go along with you and watch you shoot, but it doesn't 

 seem worth while for me to try; besides, I think it would be rather 

 a difficult matter for me to hit a deer anyway with one hand." 



The Chief would scarcely hear me out. "You will go out tomorrow 

 and stalk, young man. It is what you are here for. After you've 

 tried it for two days if you find you don't like it I'll let you off. 

 But mark you, I say, unless I am very much mistaken, deer stalking 

 is going to appeal to you mightily." 



Curious to me now is the retrospect, as I look back at the mental 

 image I had of what deer stalking would be. I rather expected that 

 I should be taken to some convenient runway and seated there while 

 numerous beaters would drive the deer past me. I saw myself seated 

 on a comfortable camp chair, smoking a cigar, singling out the 

 likeliest stag in the herd and then and here I was quite true to 

 myself as I saw the situation I saw myself firing with all the care 

 of which I was capable, and with not too much concern observe the 

 deer go on untouched. Later on, as my narrative of events will 

 disclose, it became apparent that much which I contemplated was a 

 mirage and that the country from which it sprung was far removed 

 from the land of real Scotch deer stalking. 



I recall that I said to my host on this first night : "Now, this is 

 a new game to me. If I am to play it I want you to tell me how. 

 Are there any rules?" 



"Few rules," said the Chief, sententiously, "but golden rules : First 

 of them; always walk three paces behind your stalker." (I had only a 

 dim idea of what a stalker was, but I did not expose my ignorance by 

 speaking). "Always," said he, I remember, "walk three paces behind 

 your stalker. Suit your movements to his. If he stops, you stop; 

 if he goes on, you go on; if he bends low, you bend low; if he gets 

 down and crawls, you get down and crawl. Do just as he does unless 

 he motions you or tells you to do something else. That is golden 



