144 A HUNDRED YEARS 



the Earl of Findlater, and when Ann Grant started on 

 horseback from the door of Castle Grant, her gille cas 

 fhluich (wet-footed lad), who led his young mistress on 

 her palfrey, wading through all the fords between 

 Strathspey and Gairloch (and they were many), was a 

 young Grant. From him all the Grants in the parish of 

 Gairloch are descended. Some of the Grants were very 

 powerful men, and when my grandfather. Sir Hector, 

 was young, there were said to be only two men in the 

 whole parish who could take up a handful of periwinkles 

 and crush them; they were my grandfather and Grant, 

 the big bard of Slaggan. 



To come back to my deer-stalking. William Grant 

 and our house-boy started away on a Monday morning 

 with a little red Uist pony called " Billy." To a big 

 saddle on his back were attached two large peat creels, 

 into which my dear mother put a week's supply of pro- 

 visions with her own hands. Away they went to Carn 

 Mor, whereas my trusted keeper and stalker, William 

 Morrison, and I made a bee-line across the Inverewe and 

 Kernsary moors to a tiny sandy bay on the Fionn Loch 

 (White Lake), where we kept a boat. Rowing across 

 the loch, we soon landed on the Srath na Sealg ground, 

 which was in the parish of Loch Broom, landing either 

 at the foot of Little or Big Beinn a Chaisgan, two hills 

 on the opposite side of the loch. I forget if we got 

 anything the first day, though I know as a fact that we 

 were never out on that ground without seeing lots of 

 deer, in spite of its stock of eight or nine thousand sheep. 

 We arrived in the gloaming at Carn Mor, to find 

 things in a terrible mess in the bothy. It seemed that 



