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 the game is surmised, the tracks are followed up, and the herd is at
length discovered. The wind is observed; dry leaves crumbled into powder
and let fall from the hand detect the direction if the slightest air is
stirring, and the approach is made accordingly. Every stone, every bush
or tree or tuft of grass, is noted as a cover for an advance, and
the body being kept in a direct line with each of these objects, you
approach upon hands and knees from each successive place of shelter till
a proper distance is gained. The stalking is the most exciting sport in
the world. I have frequently heard my own heart beat while creeping up
to a deer. He is an animal of wonderful acuteness, and possessing the
keenest scent; he is always on the alert, watching for danger from his
stealthy foe the leopard, who is a perfect deer-stalker.

To kill spotted deer well, if they are tolerably wild, a person must be
a really good rifle shot, otherwise wise he will wound many, but seldom
bag one. They are wonderfully fast, and their bounding pace makes them
extremely difficult to hit while running. Even when standing they must
be struck either through the head, neck, or shoulder, or they will
rarely be killed on the spot; in any other part, if wounded, they will
escape as though untouched, and die a miserable death in solitude.

In narrating long shots that I have made, I recount them as bright
moments in the hours of sport; they are the exceptions and not the rule.
I consider a man a first-rate shot who can ALWAYS bag his deer standing
at eighty yards, or running at fifty. HITTING and BAGGING are widely
different. If a man can always bag at the distance that I have named
he will constantly hit, and frequently bag,