The beasts of this herd were restless and I saw them raise their heads from eating to gaze downhill; I attributed their restlessness to the season of the year and the disturbance of the previous day. I crept and slid down the hill with my eyes on my quarry, ready to freeze at the first sign of their perceiving me. The morning sun, weak though it was, shone in their eyes and kept me hid. I reached the bottom of the slough without attracting their attention. I glanced upwards at the cave. I could not see Terry though I knew she had her eyes on me, and when I realized how easy it was for a man to lie in hiding, watching me, himself unseen, I spied the country once more. Then I thought that no stranger would come into this place expecting to find people in it. Only the wildest chance could show me to an intruder before I saw him. At that the tussocks and black patches of bog which had seemed so like men reassumed their old innocent character. All was quiet. The deer in front of me were eating. Occasionally a stag roared. We could not kill many more stags, except young beasts, for their roaring was that of beasts nearly spent. I crept under the brow of the hill and commenced to go up in a long circuit towards the ridge I had chosen for a lair when I came near enough to shoot. I climbed slowly, conserving my energy. I was not tired but empty. I could not think of food without repugnance. Nevertheless I was weak from lack of food. When I tried to hurry I grew dizzy. It cost me an hour to reach the level of the deer, a distance I had often covered in twenty minutes. I sheltered behind a rock to make certain that my rifle was loaded, and that its barrel had not become choked with moss and peat-dust while I was crawling.