The thing was new to me; for though I had, as a _seminarist_, many times practised shooting at a mark, yet I had never tried at living game. I therefore accepted the forester's offer, who appeared quite delighted that I did so; and even before going to sleep, instructed me in various rules and precautions, by means of which he thought that I would make sure of booty. CHAPTER XXIII. Accordingly, I was in due time accoutred with a huntsman's bag, and a fowling-piece slung over my shoulder, and, in company with the old man, marched away through the woods, while, in the following manner, he began the story of the monk. "This harvest, it must be now about six months since, my lads first announced that they heard oftentimes a tremendous howling in the forest, which, though the noise could not well be called human, yet my _Franz_ always insisted it must be the voice of a man. Francis, indeed, seemed to be particularly aimed at, as the _butt_ or prey of this howling spectre, for, when he went to a good station, the howling always frightened away the game; and, at last, whenever he wanted to shoot at a deer or hare, he saw a large bristly human monster burst out of the thicket, against whom he did not venture to draw the trigger. "This youth had his head full of all the ghostly hunting legends which his father, an old _chasseur_, had related to him;--and he was inclined to hold that strange intruder for the devil himself, who wanted to destroy his sport, or entice him to destruction. "The other lads,--even my own sons, to whom also the same devil had appeared,--at last joined with Francis, and my desire to obtain an explanation of all this mystery, was so much the greater, as I held it for a contrivance of the poachers, to frighten away my people from the proper covers. "Consequently, I gave strict orders that the next time they met with the devil, they should stop and question him; and if he would not answer, they should, without hesitation, according to the rules of the forest, shoot him dead on the spot. "Francis happened once more to be the first who encountered him.--Recollecting my orders, he commanded him to stand, at the same time presenting his fowling-piece--Thereupon the spectre rushed away into the thicket; Francis thought to send a thundering shot after him, but the gun missed fire; and now looking on this as supernatural, he ran homewards more horrified than ever. Of course, he told every adventure of this kind to his companions, who became all convinced that it was the devil who thus, frighted away the game, and frustrated his attempts in shooting--for it was quite true, that ever since he was persecuted by this demon, he had killed nothing, though, before that time, he had been an excellent and successful marksman.