in pen, having on one side of me a young friend of
mine, and at the other a native (these fellows won't go out unless they
are allowed to carry their guns).

Shortly after the beaters had begun to halloo, a fallow hind glided by
between me and my young friend, like a ghost. Not a sound in the wood
gave notice of its approach. It was even quieter in its movements than a
hare would have been. I put up my gun to fire, but seeing my friend's
head right in the way and in a line with its muzzle, I waited a second,
but the deer was gone. I had scarcely got over my disappointment when I
heard the branches breaking in the wood very near to me, and suddenly a
deer sprang right over my head, taking a flying leap, like a hunter
would do over a fence.

This unusual action on the part of the deer called for unusual action on
my part. As he had taken a flying leap over my head, I took a flying
shot at him a second before he landed on the other side of me. The
result was that he rolled over like a rabbit, shot _from underneath_
through the heart. This deer proved to be a very fine specimen of the
fallow, every point showing him to be of that species, except his
antlers, which were quite straight. This I cannot account for; the
natives, who had remarked this deer on several occasions feeding with
the herd of fallow deer, called it the 'Cassic Boa,' which means
'straight-horned.' Some time after this I had some good sport with the
fallow deer. Having got more accustomed to their habits, I found that it
was of no use trying to approach them, their scent being too keen, their
eyesight too sharp; the only way to get them is by very careful, in fact
I may say scientific, driving.

Good boar shooting may be had by going some little distance from
Constantinople. It usually is done either by beaters or with boarhounds;
but I have had very good sport at boar while hunting for woodcocks and
pheasants, in what may be called covert shooting--not exactly English
covert shooting, in which almost every tree is known by the keepers, but
in coverts of great extent, in which there are almost impassable
thickets, made still more impassable by a well-known bramble called the
'wait a bit,' a thing that hooks on to your eyelids as you pass.

There it is that in these coverts spaniels, half-English, half
country-bred dogs, do frequently the work of beaters, and it is a
strange fact that while piggy starts at once from his lair at the
approach of the boarh