ome slightly moving objects.

"There's two of them--two stags," Roderick whispered, "and we can get
at them easily if there's no more wandering about that I cannot see.
Mebbe the others are over that hull. There's one of them is a fine big
beast, but he has only the one horn; the other one, his head is not
ferry good. But a stag is a stag whatever; and the evening is wearing
on. Now come aweh with me, sir."

What Roderick meant by getting at them easily Lionel was now to find
out; he thought he would never have done with this agonizing stooping
and crawling and wading through burns. Long before they had got to the
neighborhood of the deer, he wished heartily that the night would come
suddenly down, or the stags take the alarm and make off--anything, so
that he might be released from this unspeakable toil and suffering. And
yet he held on, in a sort of blind, despairing fashion; the idea in his
head being that if nature gave way he would simply lie down and fall
asleep in the heather--whether to wake again or not he hardly cared. But
by and by he was to have his reward. Roderick was making for a certain
cluster of rocks; and when these were reached, Lionel found, to his
inexpressible joy, not only that he was allowed to stand upright, but
that the stalk had been accomplished. By peering over one of the
boulders, he could see both stags quietly feeding at something like
seventy yards' distance. It was going to be an easy shot in every way;
himself in ample concealment; a rock on which to rest his rifle; the
deer without thought of danger. He would take his time and calm down his
nerves.

"Which one?" he whispered to Roderick.

"The one with the one horn is a fine beast," the keeper whispered in
return; "and the other one, his head is worth nothing at all."

With extremest caution Lionel put the muzzle over the ledge of the rock,
and pushed it quietly forward. He made sure of his footing. He got hold
of the barrel with his left hand, and of the stock with his right; he
fixed the rifle firmly against his shoulder, and took slow and steady
aim. He was not so nervous this time; indeed, everything was in his
favor: the stag standing broadside on and hardly moving, and this rock
offering so convenient a rest. He held his breath for a
moment--concentrated all his attention on the long, smooth barrel--and
fired.

"You've got him, sir!" exclaimed Roderick, in an eager whisper, and
still keeping his head down; but seeing tha