rush of a large herd of deer coming through the jungle. I immediately
lay flat upon the ground, and presently an immense herd of full a
hundred deer passed across the glade at full gallop, within seventy
yards of me. Jumping up, I fired at a doe, and, to my surprise, two deer
fell to the shot, one of which was a fawn; the ball had passed through
the shoulder of the mother, and had broken the fawn's neck upon the
opposite side. I am astonished that this chance of killing two at one
shot does not more often happen when the dense body of a herd of deer is
exposed to a rifle-ball.

Deer-stalking is one of the most exciting sports in the world. I have
often crept upon hands and knees for upwards of a quarter of a mile
through mud and grass to get a shot at a fine antlered buck. It
frequently happens that after a long stalk in this manner, when some
sheltering object is reached which you have determined upon for the
shot, just as you raise your head above the grass in expectation of
seeing the game, you find a blank. He has watched your progress by the
nose, although the danger was hidden from his view, and your trouble is
unrewarded.

In all wild shooting, in every country and climate, the `wind' is the
first consideration. If you hunt down wind you will never get a deer.
You will have occasional glimpses of your game, who will be gazing
intently at you at great distances long before you can see them, but you
will never get a decent shot. The great excitement and pleasure of all
sport consists in a thorough knowledge of the pursuit. When the dew is
heavy upon the ground at break of day, you are strolling noiselessly
along with the rifle, scanning the wide plains and searching the banks
of the pools and streams for foot-marks of the spotted deer. Upon
discovering the tracks their date is immediately known, the vicinity of