DONALD TAKES MB FOR THE LAST STALK. 89 



If I had done it, it was by good luck and an inspirational selection 

 of the right point of hold. 



With a voice that trembled in spite of me, I asked : "Donald, do 

 you think he's dead or only wounded?" "Oh," gave me back the 

 stalker, "I'm thinkin', General, when ye get there ye'll find him dead 

 as a dure nail and shot through the heart." 



I said, "Run on for goodness' sake, as fast as you can. Don't wait 

 for me; I'll come as quickly as I may, because he might be only hurt 

 and we must not lose him in the darkness." And so we plunged away. 

 It was a difficult matter. The ground was very broken ; there were 

 little burns to cross and peat hags to negotiate. 



I had some falls, and I hurried mightily, but before I could arrive, 

 Donald was there, twenty yards before .me and after one hurried look 

 into the heather, he held his stick aloft in his right arm, and waved 

 it triumphantly. 



Then I knew that my glorious crowning experience was to have for 

 its exclamation point, for its adorning, for its emphasizing, for its re- 

 minder, for its suggestion to recollection until I died, the head of that 

 good stag upon my wall at home in America, and I was deeply glad, 

 and wholly grateful to the friend who had given me the opportunity, 

 and for the good fortune which had attended my amateur and maiden 

 efforts at deer stalking in the Highlands. 



A long whistle brought up the two gillies. The deer attended to and 

 his head cut off at the shoulders, it was dark. And I carried the head 

 out for myself, to where the ponies were, a bit more than a mile, 

 through darkness now quite complete and over ground as rough as 

 anyone could by extremest stretch imagine. Then for the Lodge upon 

 a good pony's back following Donald, who walked by preference, for 

 four miles until he branched off to go to his own cottage. 



And here at the parting of the trails I bade Donald, good stalker, 

 good sportsman, and good friend, farewell. And so on back to the 

 L/odge where ten o'clock saw me sitting at table and trying, withal, 

 with futility, though the listeners were most sympathetic to convey 

 to the Chief and the Warrior the thrilling enjoyment, the passionate 

 pleasure of this crowning, culminating glory of my grand shooting 

 experience. 



