The stag with the best horns is generally not the best fighter and is frequently driven out by a switch-horn or “caberslach,” whose long skewer-like antlers are the most effective horns for fighting. The best fighter of all is, however, the hummel--a stag which has no horns at all, and which is in consequence a very heavy beast.
It is astonishing how a stag will sometimes acknowledge himself beaten without any fight at all. I remember when stalking at Fealar that I had been trying without success for nearly two hours to get a shot at a big black stag which was in pursuit of a large number of hinds and was constantly on the move, skirmishing with smaller stags and driving them away. Suddenly we heard the sound of great roaring and saw coming from the direction of Mar Forest a huge red stag which evidently had for its objective the hinds who were in charge of the black stag. The newcomer kept running for a short distance and then stopped to roar and grunt. We thought that by running hard we might reach a point near enough to get a shot at him. We accordingly ran as fast as we could in order to try to cut him off, but in vain. Before we could get within shot of him he had passed this point we were making for. As soon as he got within sixty to seventy yards of the black stag, who was waiting and every now and then roaring defiantly in answer to his challenge, the latter seemed suddenly to realize that the contest would be hopeless and turned tail and bolted ignominiously, being pursued only for a short distance by his adversary, who then rounded up the hinds and drove them off.
But to return to my story. We tried to stalk the victorious stag, which seemed to be the best beast in the herd, but found it extraordinarily difficult to get within shot of him. There always seemed to be several hinds in the way, and, as it was now getting towards two o’clock, we decided to have luncheon, in the hope that in the meantime the deer would settle down, and that we should then have a chance at the stag we were after. We did not waste any time over lunch and very soon again had the deer in view. They were still on the move and we followed them for some time. The stag which we were after, which we made out to be a nine-pointer, was evidently much troubled by two other stags only a little smaller than himself, and presently, after chasing away first one and then the other, these three stags were between us and the herd. Now at last it seemed there was some chance of getting a shot at the nine-pointer, but before we could get up to him he began again to chase off the other stags, and then turned, and at a good pace followed the herd which was moving away from us. The other stags then also turned and followed in the same direction, though at a respectful distance from the nine-pointer. Maclennan and I, by running and crawling quickly, gradually diminished the distance between ourselves and the deer, and at last, after a quick run when out of their sight, crawled up a small hill and saw the three stags, the nine-pointer watching the other two. The nine-pointer was nearly 200 yards from us when he suddenly stopped and turned, standing for a moment about three-quarters on. I saw that this was my only chance, as the stags were just on the brow of the hill, and in a few moments would almost certainly be out of sight. I therefore decided to take the chance and fired.
