“I peeps round and, loomin’ in the da-arkness, see th’ hindquarters of a stag sticking out ayant a tree.  It looked bigger ’n Ah ’ve seen ’em in pictures, but Ah ‘ve noticed Fritzes look bigger in th’ dark.

“‘Now’s your chance, la-ad,’ I whispers.  ‘Trip round an’ slip th’ noose over ‘is horns.’

“‘Not me,’ growls Batty.  ‘T’other end’s safer.’

“He crawls up to it wi’ th’ rope all ready, but just as he was going to slip it over its leg it seemed to stand on its head, feint wi’ its left an’ get an upper-cut wi’ its right under Ratty’s chin.  A shadow passed across th’ fa-ace o’ the moon, which I judged to be Ratty.

“‘Ratty’s after altitude records,’ says I to meself, ‘an’ there’ll be th’ ellanall of a row if that rope’s lost.’

“However, in a few minutes he started to descend an’ made a good landing in some soft bracken.  By th’ time I’d felt him all over, an’ found ’e’d be fit to go to hospital in th’ morning, th’ stag had disappeared.”

“I never heard of stags kicking like that before,” I interrupted.

“Nor hadn’t Ratty,” said the ancient warrior.  “Ah towd you he made a mistake in Nacheral ’Istory.

“The next night, feeling mighty lonely, Ah walked five kilometres to th’ nearest estaminet, the ‘Rondyvoo de Chasers,’ an’ looked upon the vang while it was rouge.  When I’d done lookin’ and started home th’ forest looked more gho-ost-like than ever wi’ th’ young firs bowing an’ swaying, and drifts o’ cloud peeping through the branches.  All at once I heerd a crackling o’ twigs like th’ night afore, an’ then someone stole acrost th’ road carrying a rope.

“Ah says to myself, ‘It’s one of th’ Chinks poaching, an’ it’s ’evin ’elp ’im if ’e ‘s after what Ratty nearly caught last night!’

“Seemingly ’e was, for ‘e follered th’ noise, an’ Ah follered ’im—­at a safe distance.  Then, dimlike an’ looming big, Ah saw th’ stag, an’ the Chink stealing up behind it.

“‘Tother end, you fool!’ I whispered; an’ he jumps round to its head, slips th’ noose round its neck an’ leads if off as quiet as a lamb.”

“You don’t expect me to believe,” I broke in indignantly, “that a stag can be led like a poodle on a lead?”

“P’r’aps not stags,” said the veteran, relighting his pipe.  “That’s weer Ratty made the mistake that sent ’im to hospital.  But you can do it now and then with a transport mule what’s broke away, and the Chink done it.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Photographer (to Douglas Devereux, the world-famous cinema-actor).  “TIKE YER PHOTO, SIR?”]

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    COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.

“In reply to your letter to hand, we are very sorry for the delay in sending the Jumper, but the tremendous demand for these has denuded our stock.  We are, however, expecting a further delay now in a day or so.

    Yours obediently,