ON SURREY HILLS. 



form appeared to fly over the grass ; the stag saw 

 it coining, and made for the herd, joining them. But 

 the dog, dashing in their midst like a streak, singled 

 out the stag — on which he had, indeed, been intent 

 from the first, although he had dutifully kept close 

 in to heel so far. He ran him at his greatest speed ; 

 the poor stag was going now for life. 



Once or twice he dived down viciously on one 

 side, thinking to cripple his foe by making him rush 

 .on to one of his tines ; but it was unavailing, for the 

 dog kept just beyond the stroke. He passes the 

 group, is hard pressed, the fence he had cleared 

 before when after the luscious roots is in front ot 

 him. At a bound he clears it, followed by the 

 dog. 



" Lost ! " cries the young man. 



" No, squire," says the keeper, quietly ; " we shall 

 have them back presently, nearer to us. Don't 

 move.'' 



In less than ten minutes one of the watchers 

 whispered, " Here they come ! " 



They came with a rush — the stag with his tongue 

 out and his antlers laid back almost on his shoulders ; 

 they would pass quite close to us. The keeper took 



