THE HIGHLANDS OF THE SWEDISH DIVIDE. 249 
ere the pale dawn spread itself over the forest. Our 
hope was that from this high peak we might view 
elk moving at daybreak across some forest-opening. 
But we saw nothing and, descending, struck a good 
spoor. This we had followed for some miles—at times 
in momentary expectation of “ view ”—when, without 
notice from Jagt , we came suddenly on our three former 
friends. The cow rose from her bed and stood, flicking 
her heavy ears, not forty yards away ; the calf beyond 
her. Then, between the spruces, the great bull strode 
into sight. It was a matter of a moment. But one 
may see much in a moment. What I did then see 
remains fixed on my mental retina as an instantaneous 
photograph—that great wild beast, bulking huge in the 
subdued light, with his high withers and sloping quarter. 
His head hung low and slouching, and the heavy clam¬ 
shaped horns showed up in relief, with the double row 
of spears showing dark against the broad palmation ' 
behind. It was a memorable picture of wild primeval 
life, a dissolving view ; but there was no time for a 
shot.* 
This moment presented a most favourable oppor¬ 
tunity for slipping the dog. But Bengt had on former 
occasions shown so great reluctance to using Jagt 
as a “ loose hound,” that the idea did not occur to me 
in time, and the chance was lost. I never saw that 
elk again. 
Walking homewards in sullen mood, we passed 
through a chattering concourse of birds at least a mile 
in length. They were very wild, but after some trouble 
I made them out to be wax wings (Ampelis garrulus) y 
* See illustration at p. 8. 
