148 A HUNDRED YEARS 



at a shepherd's house on the opposite shore at Feith a 

 Chaisgan. The shepherd came down to meet us, and 

 he told us he had the previous day come across the very 

 finest stag he had ever seen — namely, a grand big royal. 

 We had heard for two or three years of an extra good 

 stag being in Slioch, the beautiful hill which overhangs 

 Loch Maree, and we had heard also that the Cornish 

 shooting tenant of Kenlochewe would not allow anyone 

 to stalk on Slioch, not even his own brothers, for fear 

 they might shoot it. Well, we explored our ground 

 most carefully the whole day, and though we saw deer, 

 we saw nothing that resembled the shepherd's descrip- 

 tion of the royal stag. 



It was getting late and the Ught of day was rapidly 

 departing, so we thought we would venture to descend 

 to Carn Mor, by an awful pass between the twin peaks of 

 Sgur an Laoicionn and Sgur na Feart. All at once, in 

 a tiny green corrie, just above the pass, what should we 

 come upon suddenly but three hinds and the big royal ! 

 They were just about within range, so I fired my little 

 rifle at him and hit him, but he was quite able to take 

 himself off after the hinds, and we saw no more of him 

 that night; indeed, we did not expect ever to see him 

 again, as he did not appear to be very hard hit. How- 

 ever, before midday on the morrow, Morrison spotted him 

 about two miles away lying down on the slope of the 

 Ruadh Stac bheag; in fact, it was the size and length 

 of his beautiful antlers, with the three long white-tipped 

 tines on each of his tops, that betrayed him. After a 

 long, difficult stalk, I gave him the cowp de grace lying 

 down. There was a big pool of blood under him which 



