THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
point, and from here we at once found the eleven-pointer lying in the 
centre of the hill but surrounded on all sides by hinds and small stags. 
The only chance was to wait, and wait we did till 4 p.m., when the deer, as 
usual, began moving about, but not in such a way as we had hoped. 
The face down which we had to descend was nearly in full view of animals 
below, and in every direction was a deer of some kind, that at ahy moment 
might start and spoil the stalk. It took us nearly an hour to get round 
and below two small lots of hinds, and then a small stag right below nearly 
upset all calculations. He at last rose and we had to chance giving the 
wind as the light was going. Still another party of ten deer had to be 
passed before I got to the stony ridge which overlooked the big stag, 
and when we got there I found, to my chagrin, that he was at least 250 
yards further down and a dozen hinds and young stags were lying within 
fifteen yards of us. Whilst hesitating what to do, the big stag and his hinds 
moved down hill into a small hollow, and calculating that the deer close 
to us would be out of sight of them, I left Fred and the stalker, and ran 
down the hill as fast as I could to the shelter of some rocks overlooking 
the object of my desires. Looking back, I saw the deer I had passed run- 
ning in all directions, and so pushed the rifle round a rock, and found the 
big fellow facing me at eighty yards. He fell dead at once to a bullet in his 
chest. His hinds remained without moving for more than a minute, appa- 
rently unaware that their lord and master was dead, and it was not until 
one of them climbed out of the hollow and saw deer moving on the hill 
above that she took alarm and communicated it to the others. 
J. G. MILLAIS. 
“THE BIG STAG.** 
In those deeply interesting talks we have in the smoking-room, or, 
better still, out on the forest itself, after lunch and a pipe, the subject 
which invariably crops up is “the big stag.** Every forest in Scotland 
has, has had, or is going to have, its “ muckle hart.’* Some there are, 
situated in the right places, which seem to possess so many that their 
appearance is scarcely noticed, whilst others never have, or are likely 
to have, one at all. The “ great one ** generally appears at intervals, 
and usually bears a “ charmed ** life, that mysterious existence not 
possessed by the ordinary beast of fourteen or fifteen stone, and the fact 
that he goes and comes, and has no permanent abiding place, invests 
him with a peculiar halo of romance. The stalkers are always anxious that 
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