All the races of the wapiti are easily recognisable by the large fourth tine of the antlers and the short tail.
Mr. J. G. Millais, author of "British Deer and their Horns" and other works, himself a first-rate sportsman in many parts of the world, compares the style of shooting red deer in vogue forty or fifty years ago with that obtaining in the Highlands at the present day. "A stalker in Black Mount, Argyllshire," he says, "told me of a typical day's sport in which he took part some forty years ago. Fox Maule and Sir Edwin Landseer were the two rifles (they frequently stalked in pairs at that time), and, on the side of Clashven, Peter Robertson, the head forester, brought them within eighty yards of two exceptionally fine stags. Maule fired and missed, as did also Sir Edwin as the stags moved away; then, on a signal from Robertson. Peter McColl, the gillie, slipped the hounds—the two best ever owned by the late Marquis of Breadalbane, and whose portraits are still preserved in the famous picture of 'The Deer Drive'—and away they went in hot pursuit of the deer. An end-on chase now ensued, the line taken being due east down the great glen towards Loch Dochart, and at last the stalkers were brought to a standstill, being fairly exhausted both in wind and limb. At this moment, however, four dark spots, like small rocks, standing out at the point of a little promontory in the lake, attracted their attention, and, on drawing nearer, they saw, to their surprise, each of the big stags being held at bay by a gallant hound. A couple of shots then settled the business, and so ended what was then considered a grand day's sport. No doubt it was most exciting to see the struggle of bone and sinew between two such noble quadrupeds, but it was not rifle-shooting. To-day the gallant but disturbing deer-hound has given place to the cunning and obedient collie, and the success of the stalker depends, for the most part, on the accuracy of his rifle and his skill in using it."
Photo by the Duchess of Bedford] [Woburn Abbey.
AMERICAN WAPITI.
The giant deer of the Rocky Mountains, formerly very plentiful, now scarce.
Here are a couple of sketches of modern stalking taken from Mr. Millais' own diary:—
"Wednesday, October 4th.—Started for the big corrie with McColl, and saw nothing till we got to the Eagle Hill. On this were three stags and about twenty hinds, the property of a magnificent fellow carrying one of the best heads I have ever seen on Black Mount. For some time McColl thought he was just a bit too good to shoot, for the very best in this forest are generally left for stock purposes. Finding, however, that, he was not Royal "Thursday, October 5th.—We negotiated the stiff climb, and McLeish, leaving me behind a rock on the summit, returned some distance to signal directions to the pony-man. He came back just as the stag returned roaring down the pass he had ascended; and as the mist was blotting out the landscape, I feared he would come right on to us without being seen, but, as luck would have it, he stopped and recommenced bellowing within seventy yards. I never heard a stag make such a row, but nothing of him could we see. It was most exciting, lying flat on a slab of rock, hoping devoutly that the mist would rise, if only for a few seconds. The tension had grown extreme, when there was a momentary lift in the gloom, and I made out the dim forms of the deer just as a big hind, which I had not noticed, 'bruached' loudly within twenty yards of us. The outline of the stag was barely visible when, after carefully aiming, I pressed the trigger, knowing that a moment later there would be no second chance. At the shot the deer at once disappeared, but I felt sure I had hit him, and, on following the tracks for some fifty yards, there he lay as dead as a door-nail. Weight, 13 stone 6 lbs.; a wild head of ten points; thin, and evidently that of a deer on the decline."