THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
resolved to wait till a better opportunity occurred, although the beast was 
only 100 yards distant. For a long time he disappeared in the little wood, 
but I knew he would emerge at the far end, because from time to time 
I caught a glimpse of his wives feeding that way. At last the hinds came 
out one by one. Half an hour went by, and I began to fear he had gone over 
the ridge after other charmers, when I caught the flash of sunlight on his 
horns as he slowly moved out of the thicket towards the open. 
I gathered my nerves for the standing shot, and just as he raised his 
big neck to roar I put a bullet through it at 120 yards. Of course, he fell 
dead on the spot, and the first stag of the season was mine. Galician hinds 
are not overburdened with stupidity, but on this occasion the ladies of the 
party utterly lost their heads on the death of their lord and master. When 
we walked up to the dead stag they crashed and galloped round us in a 
bewildered fashion and seemed quite at a loss where to go — at one time 
almost charging up to us in their desire to find their leader. Deer of all 
kinds do this sometimes when they have not smelt the taint of man, for 
the sight of their arch-enemy is not the supreme source of fear in moments 
of excitement. Presently one'old hind, as big as an English park stag, com- 
posed herself and led the rest away to the dark forest on the slopes above; 
and we, too, ascended the hill to find I had killed a nice twelve -pointer, with 
horns 40 inches in length, but of no particular strength. 
This was a good beginning. To find a stag roaring his best on the first 
day prognosticates a good season, but the thought was only the father 
to the wish in this case, for during the next fortnight the weather reverted 
to summer and warm nights, and with it the stags resumed their lethargy 
and reticence. I returned to Tar tar ow and found Prince and Princess 
Demidoff had arrived, coming all the way from St Petersburg. Next 
day, too, came our host and Prince Franz Liechtenstein, and we had a lazy 
day of idleness and hunting yarns. 
On the 22nd all left for their respective beats. I rode for three hours 
to the beautiful forest country of Piki, a place renowned for big stags. 
Some noble beasts were there, without a doubt, as one could see by their 
fresh spoor, but except for an occasional roar at night they did not give 
me a chance. Fedochuk and I went for tremendous tramps in forests of 
giant timber and over high stony crests wooded to the very summits, 
from which we had glorious views over some of the loveliest valleys in 
the Carpathians; but not a stag could we sight in four days, and so returned 
to Tartarow to find that the Duke of Braganza had killed a noble head of 
342 
