and strong five-year-old royal, but he did not resign his mastership without a
desperate struggle, having three big fights with his rival and being worsted in each,
besides breaking his horns to pieces. I have watched Stags in parks and in a wild
state for many years, and it was not until the autumn of 1901 that I saw a serious
fight. My Stag got the hinds as usual for the first month, and then a royal
turned him out and smashed off half of his left crown. This insult he seemed to
accept with philosophy, but one day (November 3) when I alarmed him with three
other big Stags he chanced to run into the master Stag’s harem and set all the
Deer on the move. The whole herd ran together for some distance, when the
royal gave the old fellow a poke on the rump to get him out of the way, for he
would not travel fast enough. This was an indignity no great Stag could stand
for a minute, so he whipped round and the two were locked in an instant. All the
other Deer now cleared off, and the two rivals set to work to fight in a way I have
never witnessed before. They constantly retreated for a distance of twenty yards
and charged full tilt at one another, being sometimes thrown back on their
haunches by the force of impact. Being in such deadly earnest, they forgot all
about me, so I crept up behind an oak tree and had a splendid view of the combat
within twenty yards. As nearly as I could judge they charged, fenced, and lunged
at each other for twenty-five minutes, without ever hauling off or feinting as
Stags generally do; they continued to struggle at top pitch till one wondered
how the strength of the beasts could hold out at such high pressure. At last
the younger Stag got in a blow in the ribs of the old fellow which knocked him
over on his back, and as the latter struggled to his feet he received another hard
punch, and all was over. The monarch of many seasons was defeated for good ; he
fled for his life, pursued for some distance by the victor.
Both Stags were now done to a turn. The young royal returned with
hanging head and heaving flanks to his harem, where other Stags who had meanwhile
got in gave him ‘ best ’ and cleared o u t; but so exhausted was he that he
sank to the ground and lay a full half-hour without moving. Meanwhile my Stag
went off some two hundred yards into a shady corner by the park rails and subsided
there, the picture of dejection. Taylor the keeper told me that he lay for two
days in this position without moving; his spirit, however, was not quite broken,
for a fortnight later he had another fight, and this time broke his right antler
clean in half at the centre of the beam. My readers may guess what tremendous
force must have been used in this case, as a full-grown park Stag’s horn is of
great strength and thickness.