Red Stags At Roar’s Height

We couldn’t see them, but the stags were so close you could hear their laboured grunts and the sound of antler clashing against antler. Ron scanned the bush below with his binocular, looked at me with a grin, and pointed. Farther down the rocky hill a pair of red stags were joined in battle shielded from us by the trees. We crept down taking care not to send any rocks rolling and caught a glimpse of the deer with antlers locked together, pushing each other forth and back in a trial of strength.

Ron, a keen hunter, was statue-like as the shadow thrown by the rising sun closed in and made him appear indistinct and blurry from where I stood a metre off to one side. We squatted down and used our binoculars to size up the trophy value of the gladiators. We knew the vanquished stag might break-off the contest at any moment and run off, but it was the harem-master we were interested in.

The property owner had described for us, three large trophy class stags that he'd seen in the area. There were several other stags roaring here too, some of which may have been acceptable to most hunters, but we were seeking something special. We were looking for an even 12-pointer with heavy antlers and a wide span, even