majesty of defiance.

But all the while the stream kept pressing him downward inch by inch,
very gently but very surely. Once a hound, in his impatience, burst
through the branches and ran out on the stem of an alder almost on to
his back, so that he was obliged to move down still lower. And there
the stream pressed him still more strongly, though never unkindly, and
he went downward faster than before; and he heard the full voice of
the torrent, as it thundered over the fall, chanting to him grand and
sonorous in a deep tone of command.

"_Nay, tarry no longer; come down, come down_
_To the pool that invites you, still, peaceful, and brown._
_One plunge through the rush of the shivering spray_
_And the dark, solemn eddies shall bear you away_
_From the rustle of bubbles, the hissing of foam,_
_To a haven of rest, and a long, long home._
_Come down with me, come; your refuge is near;_
_I call you, the friend of the wild Red-Deer._"

And he heard it and yielded. The water rose higher, and the strength
of the current grew more urgent about him, till at length the stream
lifted him gently off his weary feet and bore him silently down. For
a moment he strove with all his might to stem the smooth, impetuous
tide as it swept him on; then he gave himself up to the friendly
waters, and throwing his head high in air in a last defiance, he went
down swiftly over the fall.

And the wild baying ceased; and he heard nothing but the chorus of the
waters in his ears. Once he struggled to raise his head, and the great
brown antlers came looming up for a moment through the eddies; but as
he passed down to the deep, still pool beyond the fall, the water
called to him so kindly that he could not but obey.

"_From my wild forest-cradle, through deep and through shoal,_
_You have followed me far, and have reached to the goal._
_Now the gallop is ended, the chase it is run,_
_The struggle is over, the victory won._
_The fall is o'er-leaped and the rapids are passed,_
_Come rest on my bosom untroubled at last._
_Nay, raise not your head, come, bury it here;_
_No friend like the stream to the wild Red-Deer._"

So the waters closed over the stern, sharp antlers, and he bowed his
head and was at peace.

Then men came and pulled the great still body out of the water; and
they took his head and hung it up in memory of so great a run and so
gallant a Stag. But their triumph