There is another interesting fact in regard to this fine bird which is not generally known. There seems little doubt that he deserves the description which has more than once been applied to him—that of a wanton murderer. Thus Charles St. John in his classic work, Wild Sports and Natural History of the Highlands, says (chap. x.): “The peregrine seems often to strike down birds for his amusement, and I have seen one knock down and kill two rooks, who were unlucky enough to cross his flight, without taking the trouble to look at them after they fell.”
Rage
XII
INSTANCES OF WOUNDED STAGS
ATTACKING STALKERS
It must often have occurred to every one who has had experience in stalking what a very different sport stalking would be if stags realised their power and had no fear of man. It is, of course, well known to every one who is interested in the habits of deer that a tame stag in the rutting season is one of the most dangerous animals, and some years ago a tragedy occurred in Ross-shire, when a stalker was attacked and killed by a stag which he had himself brought down from the forest as a calf and which knew him well. I have often asked experienced stalkers whether they have ever known an unwounded stag attack a man, but with one exception I have never heard of any such case.
The one instance to the contrary is that given by Mr. Frank Wallace in his delightful book, Stalks Abroad. In describing his stalking in New Zealand, Mr. Wallace gives what he describes as the only really well-authenticated instance which he can vouch for of a wild stag attacking a man, and adds that most likely the darkness and time of year had something to do with the stag’s boldness. He thus describes the incident: “It was dark by the time B. and his guide reached the river-bed, which at the point they struck it is very wide. They had scrambled along over the boulders and rocks with which their course was strewn for some distance, when they saw a dark object lying on the stones in front of them. This presently resolved itself into a sleeping stag, who, hearing them approach, jumped up and disappeared. They had not seen the last of him, however, for a little later they encountered him again, apparently very annoyed at having been aroused from his beauty sleep and determined to wreak vengeance on some one. Seeing them, he seemed to think they would be suitable objects on which to make a start, and advanced with lowered head. B. threw a stone and hit it in the flank; but this had no effect, and the animal advanced a few paces nearer and stood swaying its head from side to side a few inches off the ground. As some one had to go and the stag seemed disposed to give no quarter, B. fired a shot, but without effect. The stag still advanced, until a second shot took him in the chest and finished him off. I saw him the next day where he had fallen. He had a small head of six points, and was obviously a young beast.”
There are no doubt rare instances of a wounded stag attempting to attack a man.[30] I myself have never known such an instance, and, although I have often asked old stalkers whether they have ever known of anything of the kind, I have only once met with any one who has had such a personal experience. The head stalker of a well-known forest recently told me that on two occasions he had known of wounded stags attacking a man. The story of his experiences interested me so much that I asked him to write it down in his own words. This he did, and the account he sent me was as follows:
“I enclose here a long detail about the only time I happened to see wounded stags attacking. You will find it a long story, but it so impressed itself on my mind I could not help giving the movements of each day in full. Twice in my experience of twenty-four years I have seen a wounded stag attacking a man. The first happened on September 25, 1902, when I was stalking with Mr. A. In our start in the morning to the first spying place we usually on the way moved some hinds, but did not trouble about this, as seldom stags were seen so low down till October and stormy weather came. But this morning, when near the spying place, what was my surprise to see to our right lying on a flat, mossy bank a fine big stag with ten points. He did not see us, and we were preparing to stalk him when some of the hinds we moved passed a little beyond and carried him away, so we sat down and kept our glasses on them for a long distance till they settled and began to feed, but the stag kept on walking slowly and climbing till he went out of sight over the ridge beyond. We had to make a long detour to get past the hinds, and when we got to the top and spied we found our stag some two miles away lying with a few small stags close to the march in a position fairly easy to stalk if he waited for about half an hour. We at once dipped down into the corrie at his right and moved along till opposite him. We then climbed till within 80 yards; he was still lying, so Mr. A. came to the conclusion to take him before getting up in case he would lose him on the march. Mr. A. fired, and hit high near the spine. The stag got up, but fell without making a step. I ran up to bleed him, and, crossing below, I noticed his head up again, and hurried up, when he made a straight bolt at me. With a quick jump to one side, I got clear of his head by a few inches. He toppled down the face and fell in a hollow. I think it was then he broke his back, as he could only raise his forepart. I called on Mr. A. to come up and finish him, as he was a dangerous beast. When he came in sight to one side and raised the rifle the stag half turned towards him and gave a loud, defiant roar, which was cut short by a bullet through the neck. He weighed 18 st. 2 lb.; the head had a wide span and long, but the horn was rather thin and smooth, which showed he was past his prime. Whether he roared because he could not manage to get at the man or with fright when he saw the rifle it is hard to guess, but I remember thinking how like his roar was to the roar of two stags at each other on opposite sides of a corrie.