But to return to my story. We tried to stalk the victorious stag, which seemed to be the best beast in the herd, but found it extraordinarily difficult to get within shot of him. There always seemed to be several hinds in the way, and, as it was now getting towards two o’clock, we decided to have luncheon, in the hope that in the meantime the deer would settle down, and that we should then have a chance at the stag we were after. We did not waste any time over lunch and very soon again had the deer in view. They were still on the move and we followed them for some time. The stag which we were after, which we made out to be a nine-pointer, was evidently much troubled by two other stags only a little smaller than himself, and presently, after chasing away first one and then the other, these three stags were between us and the herd. Now at last it seemed there was some chance of getting a shot at the nine-pointer, but before we could get up to him he began again to chase off the other stags, and then turned, and at a good pace followed the herd which was moving away from us. The other stags then also turned and followed in the same direction, though at a respectful distance from the nine-pointer. Maclennan and I, by running and crawling quickly, gradually diminished the distance between ourselves and the deer, and at last, after a quick run when out of their sight, crawled up a small hill and saw the three stags, the nine-pointer watching the other two. The nine-pointer was nearly 200 yards from us when he suddenly stopped and turned, standing for a moment about three-quarters on. I saw that this was my only chance, as the stags were just on the brow of the hill, and in a few moments would almost certainly be out of sight. I therefore decided to take the chance and fired. “You have him, sir,” said Maclennan, as the stag, evidently hard hit, disappeared over the brow of the hill. We made our way as fast as we could over the hill, but saw no sign of the stag. [Illustration: PREPARING FOR BATTLE. By FRANK WALLACE.]