110 STALKS ABROAD 



head, and Mr. Millais tells me he only knows of 

 two wild Scottish stags with a similar formation. 



At first it was all plain sailing though the 

 slope was steep ; then the undergrowth threw out 

 a few tentative feelers, and finding them successful 

 finally involved us in a mass of " lawyers," creepers, 

 and scraping branches. For some forty minutes or 

 so we wallowed and crawled until we struck the 

 course of a small burn and were at liberty to follow 

 it in comparative comfort. 



" Ugh-h-h-r-r-r ! " went an old hind almost in 

 my very ear. We both remained motionless. 

 " Ugh-h-r-r-r-r-r ! " persisted the old hind. 

 " Oh ! you old beast ! " muttered Buckley. 

 Thump, thump, thump with her forefoot from 

 the hind, who made a stately move forward, thrust 

 her head over a bush, and indulged in a long pene- 

 trating stare at the two cowering objects before 

 her. Then, still in a very dignified manner, she 

 minced slowly off, muttering to herself and barking 

 loudly. She must have kept it up for quite twenty 

 minutes, but the bush was so thick we never saw 

 her again. 



Cautiously we proceeded up our stream, coming 

 on charming little woodland glades, rich with luxu- 

 riant grasses and shaded by moss-grown branches. 



Then the longed-for roar, this time unmistakably 

 a good stag came down the hill to us. 



"He's coming!" said Buckley. Coming he cer- 

 tainly was, until at last we could plainly hear his 



