Rudolf Erich Raspe: Gulliver revived, London 1786 (R3)
Having one day spent all my shot I found myself unexpectedly in presence of a stately stag, looking at me so unconcernedly, as if he had known of my empty pouches. I charged immediately with powder, and upon it a good handful of cherry-stones, for I had sucked the fruits as far as the hurry would permit. Thus I let fly at him, and hit him just on the middle of the forehead, between his antlers. It stunned him—he staggered—yet he made off. A year or two after, I being with a party in the same forest—I beheld a noble stag with a fine full-grown cherry-tree above ten feet high between his antlers. I immediately recollected my former adventure, looked upon him as my property, and brought him to the ground by one shot, which at once gave me the haunch and cherry-sauce; for the tree was covered with the richest fruit, the like I had never tasted before. Who knows but some passionate holy sportsman or sporting abbot or bishop, may have shot, planted and fixed the cross between the antlers of Saint Hubertʼs stag in a manner similar to this: they always have been and still are famous for plantations of crosses and antlers; and, in a case of distress or dilemma, which too often happens to keen sportsmen, one is apt to grasp at any thing for safety, and to try any expedient rather than miss the favourable opportunity. I have many times found myself in that trying situation.
R3, S. 21-23