impatient, exclaimed: “Let us go on, Herr Forester. What have we brought our spears for?” “Just a moment, gracious Prince,” replied the forester, “and we will decide when to give the horn signal.” It was given sooner than he wished. The stag was standing knee deep in the water. The signal increased the excitement of the hounds. Nimrod rushed directly at the stag, the other two dogs attacking on the left side, and sprang at his neck. Had the dog been on shore he could have moved about more effectively, but the water, which reached to his middle, impeded him. The stag impaled him on his horns and threw him to the beach, where he lay upon his back howling, his blood crimsoning the white sand. Notwithstanding his respect for the Prince, the forester gave vent to an oath, for he took the wounding of Nimrod sadly to heart; but hardly more than the Prince himself, with whom the hound was a great favorite. The latter could be restrained no longer. Putting spurs to his horse he dashed forward with levelled spear and bending forward loudly shouted the hunting call. The courageous young pages followed him. Leuchtmar also spurred up his horse and sounded the call; but as he came up with the Prince he seized his horse’s bridle and said: “Prince, you must not do it.” The stag had been standing motionless, but when Leuchtmar stopped the Prince, the animal retreated a little distance and then sprang ashore and began his flight anew. He ran more feebly than before and the hunters soon overtook him. Their lances whizzed past him amid the blasts of horns and shouts of the hunters, and the Prince also hurled his lances, but with no more success than had attended the efforts of his companions. On they went, while the two hunters picked up the lances. Suddenly the stag ran against an oak which, although it was as large round as a man’s body, trembled to its very top. The impact was so strong that the stag’s neck was broken and it fell to the ground dead.