SKETCH XXV

A STERN CHASE

WEEK after our two nights on the hillside I went to the same place again

to look for deer; but this time without

my enthusiastic companion.

It was a brilliant day with an east wind, not at all favourable for sport, and there was not a single shootable stag to be seen in the whole glen.

We knew it would be of no use to try the northern corries so late in the season, and the few hinds that we found all had calves. However, we went on another mile, and at last one stag appeared suddenly out of some birch-trees and trotted down the hill as if he had been disturbed. We sat down, and after watching him for a while, came to the conclusion that he was a stranger that had come down during the night from

the neighbouring forest, and was then on his way back to his own ground.

He was very unsettled; feeding a little, then walking or running on, then again stopping to feed.

There

were about two miles of flat and another of hill to be crossed, before he would reach the fence which formed the boundary between our ground and the next. It was a question whether we should give chase with the vague hope that the stag might stop on our side of the fence before jumping it, or whether we should go home and have a dull blank day.

As there was nothing else to do, we settled we would try our luck and go after the stag. There was no cover of any kind on our side of the glen; no trees or bushes, no banks to the shallow river, and plenty of sheep in full view of both sides of the valley.

The stag was about half a mile off, in the middle of a flat, and our only chance was to keep some distance up the hill on which we were sitting, and, with our eyes fixed on the stag, to run when he ran, and to turn into immovable stones when he stopped or looked round. If he had once made us out, or had the slightest suspicion that there was a human being

anywhere near, our chance, remote as it was, would

have been over.

We did very well until the stag began to ascend the hill at the head of the glen, but we were then in full view the whole time, and could neither move hand or foot, nor could we possibly get any nearer. However, it was of no use to stay as we were, so with great care we glided, crept, crawled, or ran, until we dropped down into the welcome shelter of a big burn.

The stag was by this time a good way up the hill, and had evidently no intention of making any long rest on our side of the fence. We were completely out of sight from the moment we disappeared into the bank of the burn, and it was now only a question of speed and breath whether we could get within shot or not.

I gave up all hope, but struggled on. Mac of course made nothing of it, but I could never go up hill without labouring terribly. This was very steep ground, and the pace far greater than I could comfortably manage. My heart, like a piston, pumped up and down; every vein seemed about to burst; the heat was blinding; the gasps for breath choking; when at length we arrived at the fence and found the stag gone!

Over the fence he certainly was, but not out of shot, as we saw him feeding in a little hollow just below the sky line, not eighty yards off, and quite unconscious of our approach.

A moment to get one's breath, a steady rest on the boundary fence, and crack went the rifle, and over rolled the stag.

"Well done," shouted Mac, and we jumped over the fence and dragged the deer back on to our own ground. I don't know which was the most pleased, my companion or myself. We really had worked.

hard, and deserved to get our reward. Mac set to work to grallock the deer, which was in very good condition, while I retired to a heathery knoll to rest, and cool, looking down at the lovely view, and thinking over the past excitement before we started on our homeward journey.

I little dreamed as I gazed far away over the heather, catching here and there a glimpse of the rough track we had followed before we began our stalk, that it would be for the last time; but—

"We two shall nevermore

Tread that path again."