A STORMY WEEK IN THE FOREST 109 
There was, however, no choice, and after a 
cautious crawl we reached a point from which 
we could see the horns of stags moving away from 
us, at a distance of not more than 30 yards. 
Crawling as flat as possible to the top of the little 
hill, the stalker slowly raised his head, and as 
slowly lowered it. He then whispered to me, 
" There's a fine stag there, but he won't wait 
long, and you'd better shoot over my back." I 
cautiously raised the rifle over the stalker's back 
in the dii-ection indicated, and» slowly raising my 
head, saw a fine stag, with a good head, stand- 
ing broadside on, about 70 yards away, looking 
straight at me. As quickly as possible I covered 
the stag's heart and pulled the trigger ; there 
was the unmistakable thud as the bullet struck 
the stag, who instantly turned and disappeared. 
"He'll be all right," said the stalker; "you 
don't often hear a bullet strike more distinctly 
than that one did," and on reaching the point 
where the stag had been standing we saw him 
about 80 yards below, lying dead. He turned 
out to be a royal, with very regular points and a 
good head, although he was going back and had 
evidently been better. Like two of the four stags 
I had previously shot, he was an ancient warrior. 
