ON THE EDGE OF THE DEER FOREST.
By Finlay Mackinnon.
“My beat is a narrow long piece of high ground and stretching well in between three adjoining forests coming to a narrow point, and on this narrow part there is a small corrie. This corrie is the best for keeping stags I know of, but rather difficult to stalk except with north-west wind. With other winds, although successful in a stalk, one is sure to drive the rest of the deer into one of the adjoining forests, the stalkers in which were very much on the alert at that time to make the best use of any move in their favour on the marches. There was a long spell of south and south-west wind, and although there were quite a lot of stags in this corrie we had to wait long for favourable wind so as to move them further into our own ground. About September 25 we were having a spy at the corrie, and noticed a newcomer with quite a big, strong head of ten points, and on each horn very peculiarly shaped tops with cups, the three points on the top in each horn curving towards one another until the tips almost touched. We at once came to stalk him, while keeping so far as safe with wind between them and the boundary. We came to a point we considered likely if they kept on their way feeding, as in so doing they would pass us within a reasonable distance. This they did, but the ten-pointer keeping well at the end. When he was within 150 yards head on, all of a sudden he turned right round and began feeding quietly away tail on, with haunches towards us. We were in a high fever discussing whether he would still turn and follow the rest of the deer or had made up his mind to part with them altogether. We concluded the last was his decision, and so prepared to have a long shot if he would give us the best chance. When well over 200 yards, he turned half-broadside, and immediately the gentleman had a go at him. His first shot went high, and the stag bolted down the corrie, and with his second got him high in the offside hind leg and broke completely his thigh-bone, as I could see his leg swinging out to his side at every jump. We sat down, watching him going down the lower corrie until he came to a shoulder, and began to climb up the ridge towards the highest part of the mountain. When almost on the top he stood looking towards us, and after a long time lay down. When we saw him settling we moved quietly to where we left the gillie, and gave him instructions to watch and let us know which way the stag went if he got up and went away, for we had to make a long detour out of his view to get round and, if possible, to get above him. When we arrived he was not to be seen anywhere, so we began to spy and get directions from the gillie, who signed that he went round the shoulder before us. It was getting late and dark, so we hurried after the stag. When we got round the shoulder we could dimly see him limping away a good deal below us, and towards the boundary, so we considered it was best not to follow further in case we forced him over the march and then lost him in the dark, for we were in hopes to find him next morning near this place, and possibly dead. As he did not catch us following him, he slowed down to a stand, so we left him there.
“Next morning, we were on the move early and got up to where we left him, searched every hollow and corner on our side and as far into the other side as I dared, but could not find or see him anywhere. So, when home, we wrote to the surrounding tenants with a description of the head, and to have a look-out, when we would expect the head to be sent to us if the stag were found dead. But none ever came across him, so we gave up hopes and expected he was dead in some hole.
“The following year the forest was taken by a new tenant, and there was no more thought about the lost wounded stag till, about the beginning of October, what was my surprise to see, and very near the same place and corrie, a stag with the same kind of head and peculiarly formed tops. I mentioned to the gentleman our experience last season with one very like this stag in the same corrie, but I remember our remark was that it was more likely one of the same breed, so lost no time in spying, as everything was favourable for a successful stalk. We got to a nice distance, and shot him dead. When I went down to examine him I was surprised to find that he had no brow-points, and instead of being a ten-pointer he was only an eight-pointer. I could not see anything like last year’s wound at the time, but next morning, when I went to the larder where he was hanging skinned, I noticed at once his right leg showing exactly where our last year’s bullet had broken it, but now nicely healed up, and it looked as though both legs were exactly the same length. I could not say if he had a limp, as he was standing all the time till we had our shot. I got this haunch for my own use and had it boiled and stripped of flesh, when I could see plainly how well it joined. The bone was jagged at both ends, and the longest points exactly touching, and the missing parts were filled up with tough hard flesh. I noticed a splinter on the outside which lay so neatly in place, and even to both ends. The stag weighed 15 st. 11 lb. He was in fair condition, but not up to the average; he looked to me to be much heavier the year before, although that year we had much better average weights.”
Lieut.-General Crealock, in Deer Stalking in the Highlands of Scotland, relates a case of the same kind:
“I remember,” he says, “wounding a Royal Stag some years ago at Loch Luichart—I broke his fore leg at the shoulder. Having no dog with me I never succeeded in getting up to him to finish him before dark, and so lost him. The wound was not mortal—it had shattered the bone; he recovered and lived for several years after, but he always had a stiff joint. The first year he never shed his velvet and dropped a point from his royal head; the second year he cleaned, but never regained his royal head or even a good one again.”
