There came a day, when it was early autumn still, that I had great good fortune in the hunt soon after the sun had risen. There was a fog upon the plain where the deer and the urus and other wild things of the grass eaters fed, and no wind to carry my scent; and before daylight I crept far out on the wild meadow, for well I knew the way, even in darkness, and hid myself in a little clump of bushes near the forest. I carried my strongest bow and the sharpest and best of my flint arrows. So I lay hidden and silent, and soon I could hear, very close beside me, the sound of moving, feeding things. And slowly, very slowly, the fog thinned, and more light came. Not ten yards from me--so close that it seemed impossible he could not have felt me near, nor caught my scent, broad side toward me--fed a great stag leading his does. Already, before the fog lessened, I had prepared myself--one knee on the ground, and arrow notched for whatever hap might come with the light. Never was afforded fairer mark so close. I held my aim upon where the heart of the stag should be, and drew with all my strength until the great bow groaned, and the head of the arrow was beside my hand, and then I released it--I, the strongest of bowmen. With the loud twang there came a great snorting, and the does were gone. Not so the huge stag. He leaped far aloft, and gave a mighty bleat, and rolled to earth, thrashing about in his death agony. I had driven the arrow through his heart, and so mightily that the arrow-head stuck out on the farther side! I ran to the village, and called aloud to the men, and we brought the stag slung beneath a great pole borne on the shoulders of half a dozen of us at either end. A great feast of venison had the whole clan that morning. Much I ate, and then I slept a little; but the sun was not yet at its highest when I awoke refreshed and strong, and full of vauntingness. I said to myself, “I will do yet another thing this day. I will go to the great marsh, and get for old Feather the strange new seed she wants.” So I said to old Feather, and I spoke vauntingly: “Already to-day have I killed a great stag, and we have much meat. More yet will I do before the darkness comes. I will go to the island in the marsh and gather for you as nearly a bagful as I can of the new kind of seeds that you need, and will bring the bag to you, that you may keep the seeds for the spring planting.” And I threw out my breast.