We again started to work our way back, and had not gone very far before Maclennan suddenly stopped and brought his glass to bear on the face of a hill about half a mile away. He then said there was a stag with a fine wide head lying down, and that we ought to be able to get close to him without difficulty, as the ground was very broken. I proceeded to stalk this stag, and got without great difficulty within about 180 yards of him, when I saw that he was up and looking very suspicious, and that I should have to take my shot as soon as I could. We quickly got the rifle out of the cover, and crawled to another hillock about 100 yards from where the stag was. Arrived there, I pushed the barrels of my rifle over the top of the hillock and slowly raised my head. The stag was standing nearly broadside on, looking straight at me. I fired. There was a thud as the bullet struck him, and he turned and galloped off, disappearing round a corner of the hill. I felt confident that the bullet had gone home; and we found the stag, who had been, as I thought, shot through the heart, lying dead about sixty yards from the place where he had been standing when I fired at him. He was a ten-pointer, and had a fine wide head with a good horn, and when we got him home we found, curiously enough, that his weight was exactly the same as that of the first stag that I had shot—15 stone clean.
Leaving the gillie to gralloch the stag, Maclennan and I now proceeded homewards, keeping a sharp look-out, and presently we saw a considerable number of stags, which were moving across the valley from one hill to another. We saw that if they were not disturbed they would probably cross a little hill not far from us, at a point from which we could, if we moved quickly, get to within shooting distance. So, running and walking quickly, we reached a spot about 140 to 150 yards from the point at which we expected the stags to pass, and arrived just in time. The stags were moving slowly almost broadside to us in single file, and were passing over a little knoll, at which point I had a fine chance of a shot.
“Take the second one, sir,” said Maclennan, who had his glass on them. I was just about to fire when he said: “No, not that one, but the third; he’s better.” Again I was on the point of shooting when Maclennan said: “Wait, sir, wait; take the fifth, he’s the best.” Directly the stag topped the knoll I fired, and he ran a few yards and fell down. On coming up to him I found it necessary to give him another bullet through the neck. We found that this stag was by far the best we had seen that day. He was a royal, in splendid condition, and weighed 17 stone 6 lb. clean. He had a magnificent head, with very thick black horns, and long points with white tips. After gralloching him, and tying a handkerchief to his horns to scare the eagles and foxes, we made our way back to the lodge. I had several good days in the forest subsequently, with one or other of the regular stalkers, but none more enjoyable than this one, in which, without the assistance of a regular stalker, I had the good fortune to kill four stags averaging over 16 stone clean, without heart or liver.
“TAKE THE FIFTH, HE’S THE BEST.”
ON THE TOPS