The light was going as we pushed the boat out again. I handed the salmon rod to my brother, and he began to fish from the stern of the boat, while I fished again from the bow with the trout rod. Sandy allowed the boat to drift slowly along the edge of some weeds. I do not think that I had more than three or four casts when, just as I was nearing the end of my cast, a salmon, which looked as bright as silver, and about the same size as the one we had just killed, rose at my tail fly, with a head and tail rise as if it meant business; and, as it turned to go down, I felt the hook go home. The fish did not run, but worked about near the surface of the water, close to the weeds, as if it did not realise that it was hooked at all. “Back the boat quickly, sir,” said Sandy, handing the oars to my brother, and seizing the gaff. My brother took the oars and backed the boat quickly in the direction of the fish. I reeled up my line; there was a momentary vision of about three-quarters of Sandy leaning out of the boat, a tremendously quick lightning-like movement of the gaff, and the salmon, gaffed with extraordinary skill behind the shoulder, was in the boat. I do not think that more than four minutes could possibly have elapsed from the time that I hooked the fish to the time it was in the boat. It was a beautiful, clean-run female fish, with a small head, and in perfect condition. It was very lightly hooked, and if it had run or jumped at all it would almost certainly have got off. It weighed within a few ounces of the weight of the fish which had given me such a tremendous battle, and yet, owing to the extraordinary skill of Sandy with the gaff, and the speed with which my brother had acted, this fish occupied us only as many minutes as the other one had hours! We continued to fish for a short time, but it became dark so rapidly that very soon we had to stop, and without a further rise of any kind. [Illustration: (Deer in the Valley)] X THE HOMING INSTINCTS OF WOUNDED DEER In these days one hears so much of the homing instincts of animals and birds that the two following authentic instances of deer, whose habits are not so generally known as those of some other animals, may be of interest. Stalkers, and those who know the habits of the red-deer, know well that a stag when wounded will seek what he knows from experience to be a haven of safety. Thus, if he has come in the rutting season from his native forest and is wounded on other ground, he will assuredly make for the sanctuary in that forest. So, too, if he has been born and reared in a particular part of the forest and has come to regard that place as his home, he will struggle to reach it if wounded. One interesting illustration of this has come within my own experience, and another was related to me by the stalker who was with me on the occasion referred to.