From what has been said it will be clear that elk hunting with the loose dog is a manly, noble sport, fitted in reality for those who have youth, activity, and decided staying powers. At the same time the race is not always to the swift; experience, cunning, and knowledge of country will effect a great deal, and under certain conditions the elderly hunter may achieve some success; but if the elk really means running, he may as well confess at once that he is not in it, and sit down and light his pipe. But I strongly recommend him to turn his attention solely to stalking with the leash-hound. He will find it scarcely less exciting than the other branch of the sport, and quite fatiguing enough, although it lacks that species of triumph, so dear to Englishmen, which results from success attained by very distressing physical exertion. The serious drawbacks to loose-dog hunting are, first, the common necessity of killing time in the forest--or, it may be, in a ‘sæter’ or hay-house--for some hours and in all weathers whilst the elk are lying down. Secondly, the fact that it is, to a great extent, blind work, that one is entirely dependent on the dog and must run to a sound, that there is little or no opportunity for the science of woodcraft, and none for that study of the object of the chase which is so dear to the stalker. Thirdly, that you cannot run a single deer for any distance without disturbing a great extent of country. Fourthly, that there is the obligation, if not invariably yet nearly so, to kill whatever beast the hound has succeeded in stopping, be it a young bull with insignificant honours or a cow with a calf in tow. The Swedish hunter never gives quarter; his immutable doctrine may be summed up in the words, ‘Meat for the man, and blood for the dog.’ He will not risk disappointing his hound and perhaps ruining his staunchness, nor will he, if he can help it, stultify the whole _raison d’être_ of the chase, nor forego his hankering after the flesh-pots. I do not say that the English sportsman is absolutely compelled to adhere to this merciless creed, but he will find it difficult to withstand. He is the actor in a drama in which the hound takes the leading part throughout until the climax, and for that he is himself responsible; excitement, struggle, endurance, opportunity, these are the several stages; it rests with him what the final one is to be: if failure, well, man is prone to err and so is his bullet; after all, he has done his best and tried to succeed--but refusal! I think he will become conscious, possibly against his will, that this is, under the conditions of such a chase, the most miserable _fiasco_ of all: _the_ chance at last, and tamely to forego it! he will feel that he who acts thus is deserving of that limbo to which Dante consigned the otherwise blameless man who refused the popedom: