THE INLAND SEA KEVISITED. 51 



old dog giving tongue down the stream. I knew at 

 once lie was on a wounded deer's track, and that it was 

 badly wounded I felt certain, by the animal having 

 turned down stream instead of going up with the 

 others. A mortally hurt deer will seldom if ever 

 take up hill ; if they try it for a short distance, they 

 are certain to turn down very soon. Away I went as 

 fast as possible, over and through the rough cover. 

 The dog's notes kept every now and then sounding 

 ahead. He was in sight of the deer, I knew by expe- 

 rience, when he barked. On we went in this way for 

 a good mile, when suddenly no more sounds came from 

 " Pat," and directly afterwards I met the dog coming 

 back on his own track. " What's the matter, old man? 

 Have you got thrown off the scent?" Another half- 

 mile down the course of the stream and I came on a 

 sandy patch, and here, to my delight, was imprinted the 

 fresh track of a stag. At the same moment " Pat " was 

 off, and I caught a glimpse of the deer's white stern- 

 patch as he sprang round the shoulder of a rise of 

 ground a little distance ahead. Dog and deer were 

 both out of sight in a moment. Another good half-mile 

 race — still going down hill, most fortunately. I began 

 to feel sure of the poor beast now. The mud-wall I 

 have mentioned was close at hand; I felt almost certain 



