NOTICES OF NEW BOOKS. 239 



more attractive, since it deals with a greater variety of game, and 

 carries the reader into a greater diversity of country. Besides 

 the Chamois, in whose pursuit Boner found such fascination, we 

 are introduced to the Mouflon of Sardinia, the Wapiti and Big- 

 horn of the Rocky Mountains, the Wild Sheep of Barbary, the 

 Wild Goat of Asia Minor, and the Pyrenean Ibex. We learn 

 how to follow the Elk in Sweden, the Reindeer in Norway, and 

 the Red- deer on the great island of Hitteren. Furthermore, we 

 are initiated into the more dangerous sport of Bear-hunting. 

 Truly a varied and exciting programme ! 



In regard to some of these animals, of course, there is not 

 much to be said that is very new. Their haunts have been 

 described by many previous writers, and the excitement which 

 attends the pursuit of them has been dwelt upon again and 

 again. Still there is often a great deal of charm in an old story 

 newly told, and when, as in the present instance, the writer 

 abstains from compilation, and confines himself to a narration of 

 his own experience, the value of his observations is considerably 

 enhanced. Particularly is this the case when he is unselfish 

 enough to indicate his route, and give useful hints to those who 

 may care to follow him. 



It is not easy to make an extract where there is so much that 

 suggests quotation, but the following, taken from the chapter on 

 the Pyrenean Ibex, will convey an idea of the writer's style, as 

 well as of his powers of observation and description : — 



" I cannot say I am enamoured of Ibex driving, and if it were not for 

 the rarity of the trophy, I would never have endured those tortures. 

 Fancy sitting through three sermons on end, of the longest kind, on a 

 stone which gets harder and sharper every minute, under the strictest 

 obligation not to move, or go to sleep. If on the shady side of the valley, 

 there is a rasping wind, and probably a snowstorm. On the northern 

 slope frying understates the case. The solitude and the strange positions 

 in which you find yourself have a strong effect on the imagination. The 

 faintest sound acquires an exaggerated significance, and sets the heart 

 throbbing painfully. I have often fancied I heard shots which were never 

 fired, and the baying of dogs which proceeded from no canine throats. 

 The one hallucination may have been suggested by a little pebble hopping 

 down from the cliff above, or the rumbling of stones in the torrent below, 

 the sound of which comes up to you at intervals, now faint and now strong, 

 then for a long period altogether inaudible. The baying of the dogs is 

 what you are listening for, so the illusion is natural ; but the real thing is 



