THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
firs) before climbing to the upper slopes. My eyes at once detected some- 
thing in a small opening under a rock several hundred feet up. I called 
the attention of Petro and the gillies to the object and they at once became 
wildly excited, exclaiming, 
“ Olen! Olen! Veliki veliki! ** (“A stag, a stag, a very big one.”) But I 
could see no horns, and as the glass had been left at home (there being 
little use for it in this timber stalking) I bowed to the superior local know- 
ledge of my companions. Then I explained as best I could how I would stalk 
the stag, if such it was, and how they must remain in open places below, 
where I could see them and receive their signals in case the beast moved. 
This plan, however, met with the most chilling reception on the part of 
Petro, who convinced me that the dwarf firs, though they looked short, were 
in reality eight or nine feet high, and that when I came near the stag it 
would be impossible to see it. The only plan, he argued, was for me to 
place myself in a favourable position near a tongue of high woods towards 
which the deer was sure to run, as soon as it had been disturbed from above 
by himself. There was something in it, and I might obtain a running shot 
at anything from 200 to 500 yards, so I let the hunter have his way and 
off he went. 
In about ten minutes, just as I expected to see the animal come trotting 
along the hillside, the redoubtable Petro was to be observed perched on 
the rock beneath which the beast was last seen, and gesticulating wildly, 
waving his coat, and — strangest of all — flinging stones. What on earth 
had happened ? No stag appeared, but presently came Petro, pouring 
with perspiration and trembling with excitement. It seems that he could 
see nothing of the stag when he arrived at the marked spot, and so sprang 
down the hill. In doing so he almost pitched on the back of a huge wild 
boar that was lying asleep. Old Piggy, aroused from his siesta, was not in 
the most amiable temper. He “ chopped ” his tusks, and refused to budge, 
and looked altogether so wicked that poor Petro thought his last hour 
had come. By means of a strategic movement to the rear and a sudden 
scramble the hunter reached the secure haven of the big stone, from which 
point of vantage he yelled and threw stones at the boar, until it moved 
slowly away, protesting all the while. Now I felt sorry that I had not made 
that stalk, for I should probably have added a nice specimen to my collec- 
tion. Petro was quite upset for the rest of the day and could talk of nothing 
else but his hairbreadth escapes from boars and bears, especially bears; 
one of which, a creature of enormous size, he had slain as it attacked him. 
332 
