It has been said by a close observer of animal life that no wild
animal dies a natural death.[20] Every creature of the woods lives in
the midst of perpetual dangers from some one of which, sooner or
later, he comes to a violent or tragic end. The rigor of the elements
sometimes overcomes him,--rain or snow, heat or cold, flood or
avalanche, the falling tree or the crashing rock. It may be that some
other animal which is his natural enemy finally falls upon him and
destroys him. The most cruel fate of all is when he falls into the
power of the sportsman, matching against the wild creature's instincts
his wits, his dogs, and his rifle. In such an unequal contest man
seldom fails to win.

[Footnote 20: Ernest Seton-Thompson in _Wild Animals I have known_.]

Deerstalking was long the favorite sport in England, dating from the
early days of semi-barbarism, when the only serious pursuits of the
rich were war and the chase. The forest laws of the old Norman kings
set the punishment for killing a deer, except in the chase, as great
as for taking a human life. Large tracts of land were reserved for
hunting grounds in districts which might otherwise have been covered
with prosperous villages. Down to our own times, a large pack of
hounds was maintained by the English crown solely for the use of royal
hunting parties. At length, at the beginning of the twentieth century,
the new king, Edward VII., has abolished the custom.

It would seem that the deer was well fitted by nature to cope with his
enemy the sportsman. His senses are so exquisitely delicate that he
detects the approach of the hunter at a great distance. As soon as he
takes alarm he flees from the danger, covering the ground in flying
leaps with incredible speed. From time to time he pauses on some
hilltop to locate anew the position of the enemy.

[Illustration: Fr. Hanfstaengl, photo. John Andrew & Son, Sc.
THE HUNTED STAG
_National Gallery, London_]

As he begins to tire, he resorts to stratagem as a substitute for
speed. Sometimes another deer comes to his aid, taking the track he
has made, while he hides in some thicket or flies in a different
direction. One of his tricks is to run backward over his course for a
number of yards, and then leap aside to start in another way. The
story of the Sandhill Stag tells how a deer used this device three
times in succession, the last time returning to a thicket near his
track from which he could discern hi