There was
that beautiful, grand, red deer half down on his knees and perfectly
quiet, and there was one of the men in red coats coming toward him with
a great knife in his hand, and a little farther back was three or four
dogs with another man, still on horseback, whipping them to keep them
back, though they seemed willing enough to lie there with their tongues
out, panting. As the man with the knife came up to the deer, the poor
creature raised its eyes to him, and didn't seem to mind whether he
came or not. It was trembling all over and fairly tired to death. When
the man got near enough he took hold of one of the deer's horns and
lifted up the hand with the knife in it, but he didn't bring it down on
that deer's throat, I can tell you, madam, for I was there and had him
by the arm.
He turned on me as if he had been struck by lightning.
"What do you mean?" he shouted. "Let go my arm."
"Don't you touch that deer," said I - my voice was so husky I could
hardly speak - "don't you see it's surrendered? Can you have the heart
to cut that beautiful throat when he is pleading for mercy?" The man's
eyes looked as if they would burst out of his head. He gave me a pull
and a push as if he would stick the knife into me, and he actually
swore at me, but I didn't mind that.
[Illustration: "IF YOU WAS A MAN I'D BREAK YOUR HEAD"]
"You have got that poor creature now," said I, "and that's enough. Keep
it and tame it and bring it up with your children." I didn't have time
to say anything more, and he didn't have time to answer, for two of the
dogs who had got a little of their wind back sprang up and made a jump
at the stag; and he, having got a little of his wind back, jerked his
horn out of the hand of the man, and giving a sort of side spring
backward among the bushes and rocks, away he went, the dogs after him.
The man with the knife rushed out into the lane, and so did I, and so
did the man on horseback, almost on top of me. On the other side of the
lane was a little gorge with rocks and trees and water at the bottom of
it, and I was just in time to see the stag spring over the lane and
drop out of sight among the rocks and the moss and the vines.
