THE WOODS OF ROSEHALL. 15 



kinds of interesting hawks, and also in marten and wild cats, 

 but keepers and trapping combined seem to have entirely 

 swept all these animals away. I looked in vain for buzzards 

 on a high rock which some few years back was invariably 

 tenanted by them, but it seemed that they had long since 

 been destroyed. As I passed through the remains of the 

 woods too I caught a glimpse here and there of passes where 

 different stags had fallen to my rifle, and many a happy day 

 spent in the greenwood was recalled to my recollection, with 

 all its accompanying incidents. I called on the old Highland 

 keeper who was then my attendant, and found him exactly 

 on the same spot where I had seen him twelve years ago, 

 winking at the morning sun in a manner peculiar to owls 

 and inhabitants of cottages full of peat smoke. I doubted 

 his recognizing me after so many years, but was much 

 gratified at the pleasure and readiness with which he did so, 

 and at the vivid recollection which he had of the corrie in 

 which " my honour " had shot my h'rst stag under his 

 guidance and tuition his tender inquiry too after my rifle, 

 " the likes of which never put down a deer in the country." 

 I returned the compliment by begging to be shown my old 

 acquaintance, " the double-barrel," a most venerable flint 

 gun, with singularly eccentric and unreachable triggers, 

 which no fore-finger but his own could ever pull. This 

 ancient gun, however, in his hands, had laid low many ail 

 an tiered head. Though he affected to despise all new in- 

 ventions, I had a recollection of his always preferring a shot 

 with one of my percussion guns to the uncertain chance of 

 his own flint and steel. Many an old story connected with 

 stag and corrie, shealing and whisky bottle, the old fellow 

 called to my recollection ; and I really taw with regret the 

 last of his weather-beaten face, as he bowed and gesticulated 

 to me as long as we continued in sight. I am afraid that my 

 companions must have thought me a bore for a few miles, as 

 I pointed out, with an interest which they could scarcely 

 feel, rock and glen, the scenes of former chaces of deer, or 

 even of the death of ottei or wild cat. 



At Oykel Inn, softie twenty miles from our starting-place, 

 we stopped for an hour or two to rest our horse, and to try a 

 cast in the river ; but bright and clear as it was, with very 

 little water in the stream, we had no success. At certain 

 times of the fishing season there is no better river than the 

 Oykel. May, however, is rather too early. 



