216 AUGUST ON THE MOORS 



with your own hands. They are mortals, after all, 

 and if you tempt them beyond mortal strength, small 

 blame to them if they succumb. 



You have eaten and drunk, and chassed your claret. 

 Pipes are ablaze, and the pungent clouds that wreath 

 themselves so picturesquely round the group are 

 playing the very mischief with the appetites of the 

 midges, who, up to a minute before, had it all their 

 own way. The wiry Donald, who is risen like a giant 

 refreshed although, indeed, the latent energy of his 

 frame scarcely needed refreshment is already busy 

 over the game-panniers. 



" That's right, Donald : now for the bag." 



Fifteen and a half brace, a mallard to boot, a couple 

 of snipe, and a mountain hare or two. We could have 

 knocked over dozens of the last, had it been worth 

 while overburdening the unlucky pony. A very fair 

 morning's work up to eleven for a man who shoots and 

 doesn't slaughter ; but how some of the millionaire 

 aristocrats in the Perthshire and Aberdeenshire flats 

 would turn up their noses ! Superb plumage the birds 

 are in, even the young ones springy as india-rubber and 

 plump as quails in season. After all, for man, beast, or 

 bird, there is nothing like the mountain air, always 

 bracing when it does not bite. 



That tribute paid to the susceptibilities of the keeper, 

 who holds himself personally responsible for the 

 plumage and condition of his birds, you think of 

 imitating the undepraved instincts of the dogs, and 

 recruiting nature with a siesta. Already Ponto and 



