64 



THE DEER. 



against. But a little distance before them, rising 

 above the narrow ledge that forms a winding 

 path at its base, a hiige cliff towers upward, 

 bearing aloft a mantle of unsullied white. Harm- 

 less enough it appears in the sunlight, and gives 

 no evidence of its speedy release from ihb moun- 

 tain's side. 



Yet, as the Deer approach, a few stones come 

 hurtling down, as the snow-field begins to yield, 

 and as they bound from sid€ to side the Buck 

 stops, and tossing his armed head, blows sharply 

 through his nostrils as he gazes at the falling 

 rocksj while the Hinds crowd timidly about him. 

 But all is soon silent again, and the animals pro- 

 ceed on their way with confidence restored. 



As they arrive beneath the cliff an indistinct, 

 uncertain, murmuring sound is heard, and then 

 suddenly, with the sound of distant thunder, the 

 whole side of the hill seems moving toward the 

 valley, and in a thick, tossing, fleecy cloud the 

 snow descends upon the luckless Deer. Ap- 

 prised too late of their danger, with frantic leaps 

 tTiey endeavor to escape ; but the snow-fall is all 

 about them, and bears them to the earth with its 

 weight. However, struggling desperately, they 

 soon cut through the yielding mass with their 

 sharp hoofs, and although at first half stunned as 

 ftiey emerge into the sunlight again, yet they 

 soon gather their senses and bound along the 



path, happy to have escaped such unexpected 

 danger. 



When parties go Deer-stalking in Scotland they 

 keep Hounds in leash, in order that, when a Stag 

 is wounded without being killed, and takes to flight, 

 they may be let slip after liim, and run him down 

 until he is brought to bay. To pursue the Deer 

 on their native hills with Horse and Hound, as 

 the hunters follow the Fox, although a very ex- 

 citing business, is very dangerous for Horses and 

 men, and worst of all for the Dogs, which then be- 

 come the principal parties concerned in the chase. 



The Deer knows perfectly every turning, every 

 corner, every hiding-place in the mountains where 

 he has spent his life, just as we know every tree 

 and bush in our own garden and grounds. As 

 soon as he is aware that. the Hounds are in pur- 

 suit of him, he sets off to the most difficult fast- 

 nesses, he leaps great precipices, he swims across 

 the most rapid streams, in order that the Dogs 

 may break their necks, or be carried away by 

 the force of a torrent, or, at any rate may lose 

 the scent. And all these things sometimes hap- 

 pen. 



If at length the poor Stag is exhausted and 

 brought to bay, then it is the duty of the Hounds 

 to surround him and keep him in that place until 

 the huntsman comes up and dispatches him with 

 dagger or hunting-knife. 



