Antlers 



that I should probably be difficult to distinguish. I 

 keep my eye on the stag. At the first movement of 

 the does, up goes his head, and he stands watchful. 

 He evidently cannot distinguish me, and does 

 not understand the vagaries and antics of his 

 harem. He advances a few strides, halts, and 

 then advances again. ' He cannot now be more 

 than fifty paces away,' I think, but he is standing 

 fronting me, tearing at the turf with his forefoot 

 and evidently in a royal rage. The> light is flicker- 

 ing and vile, but there is nothing for it, and I 

 aim at his chest. The stag sinks in his tracks, 

 raises himself half up as the frightened herd 

 dash past him for the safe precincts of the 

 forest, and then sinks to rise no more. As I rush 

 forward towards the stag with my eye on the 

 retreating herd, the long white scuts of the doe 

 chitul are what chiefly attract one as they 

 disappear into the grass fringing the forest. 

 Their scuts are held stiff in the air over the 

 rump, and look more like giant white rabbit scuts 

 than anything else. They are slightly curved 

 over the back, but jerk backwards and forwards 

 with each jump. 



