The deer is the most acute animal we possess, and adopts the most
sagacious plans for the preservation of its life. When it lies,
satisfied that the wind will convey to it an intimation of the approach
of its pursuer, it gazes in another direction. If there are any wild
birds, such as curlews or ravens, in its vicinity, it keeps its eye
intently fixed on them, convinced that they will give it a timely
alarm. It selects its cover with the greatest caution, and invariably
chooses an eminence from which it can have a view around. It recognises
individuals, and permits the shepherds to approach it. The stags at
Tornapress will suffer the boy to go within twenty yards of them, but
if I attempt to encroach upon them they are off at once. A poor man who
carries peats in a creel on his back here, may go 'cheek-for-jowl' with
them: I put on his pannier the other day, and attempted to advance, and
immediately they sprung away like antelopes. An eminent deer-stalker
told me the other day of a plan one of his keeper's adopted to kill
a very wary stag. This animal had been known for years, and occupied
part of a plain from which it could perceive the smallest object at
the distance of a mile. The keeper cut a thick bush, which he carried
before him as he crept, and commenced stalking at eight in the morning;
but so gradually did he move forward, that it was five P.M. before he
stood in triumph with his foot on the breast of the antlered king. 'I
never felt so much for an inferior creature,' said the gentleman, 'as
I did for this deer. When I came up it was panting life away, with its
large blue eyes firmly fixed on its slayer. You would have thought,
sir, that it was accusing itself of simplicity in having been so easily
betrayed.'--_Inverness Courier._