THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
In deer -stalking, as in other things of life, it does not do to be too con- 
fident. When all seems clear the unexpected often happens, and then 
your plans are shattered. Before X. and I had gone ten yards down the 
hill we literally crawled on to the backs of a hind and a calf sleeping peace- 
fully in a hollow of grass. They were not five yards away from us when 
we made the appalling discovery. We stopped as if shot, but it was too 
late. The old hind sprang to her feet with a loud “ Bruagh,” and dashed 
down the hill. 
The game was up in an instant, and our hinds and “ the big stag ” 
were spreading out like a fan 300 yards away, and going their very best. 
Under true hunting conditions I might have dropped the stag even then, 
and if I had been in Norway or Canada I should have saluted him with 
five or six shots until he was 500 yards away, but we were in Scotland, 
which is quite another thing, so one had to restrain oneself and hope 
that the deer might only run a mile or two and settle down. Vain hope 
indeed — they joined a great mass of deer on the other side of the glen 
and then passed up in the mists of Glencoe and were lost to view. 
X. was in no mood to follow them, but sat and solemnly cursed that old 
hind whose presence no power on earth could have foretold, and no glass 
could possibly have seen. It was bad luck indeed, and I was almost inclined 
to think that “ great stags ” had charmed lives, as this one was said to have. 
“No bullet’s ever gaun to kill yon,’’ remarked X., indicating the vanished 
one with his pipe stem. 
“In September last year ’twas clear on the tops for once, and I took 
Lord B. away to the Paps to look for ‘ the big stag,’ and we found him. 
Aweel, yon lord’s said to be a great shot, and a’ tuk him to within eighty 
yards. He was lying fine and canny, and he missed him wi’ both barrels 
as clean as a whustle. Oh, the deil’s his freen.’* 
It was now nearly 4 o’clock and we had a long walk home right over 
the main range of the mountains. We climbed for an hour in somewhat 
melancholy mood, when in the dusk a stag and some twenty hinds was 
noticed in a hollow, but little out of our path. The deer were coming 
down hill, and seeing that the stag was a good one, we ran and cut him 
off. I could hardly see him against the dark hillside, but the ivory pyramid 
on the backsight stood me in good stead and I scored a somewhat lucky 
shot, getting him right through the heart. He proved to be a much finer 
stag than we had thought, and weighed 15 stone 9 lb., with a strong head 
of ten points. 
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