OTTER-HUNTINGSTAGSHERONS. 287 



being caked down in a solid mass, as would have been the 

 case on a smooth field. I knew that he would appear at the 

 hole which we had stopped ; and therefore I did not risk a 

 shot at him. 



He worked on until he was close to the hole ; when he 

 emerged quietly and silently, and crept towards the well- 

 known place of refuge. On finding it completely stopped up, 

 the countenance of the poor animal assumed a most be- 

 wildered expression of astonishment and fear; and lifting 

 himself up on his hind legs, he looked round to ascertain 

 what had happened. On seeing me he made off towards the 

 river, with as long leaps as the snow would allow him ; and 

 as it was tolerably hard, he got on pretty quickly till my 

 charge of shot put an end to his journey. 



The report of the gun started two fine stags, who had been 

 feeding along the course of a small open rill which ran into 

 the river just above where we were ; and I was astonished to 

 see the power with which these two great animals galloped 

 up the hill, although they sank deep at every stride. When 

 half-way up, they halted to look at us, and stood beautifully 

 defined on the white snow ; they then trotted quietly off till 

 we lost sight of them over the summit of the hill. Donald 

 in the meantime had carefully concealed the otter under the 

 snow (marking the place by a small pyramid of stones), as I 

 intended to have him skinned on our return home. 



The lakes and the still pools being frozen, we saw several 

 herons standing in their usual and characteristic attitude, 

 waiting patiently in some shallow running water for any 

 unwary trout that might pass within reach of their unerring 

 bills : and here and there a heron who appeared to have 

 made his morning meal was standing, as quietly and as 

 unsubstantial-looking as his own shadow, perched on one foot 

 on a stone in the middle of the stream. A golden-eye or two 

 were diving earnestly and quickly in the quieter parts of the 

 river, taking wing only on my near approach, and after flying 

 some distance up the stream, coming back again over my 

 head, making with their rapid pinions the peculiar clanging 

 noise which distinguishes their flight from that of any other 

 duck. They passed me unmolested, for had we killed them 

 they would have been useless. Indeed no diving duck is fit 

 to eat, with the exception perhaps of the pochard and scaup : 

 and even these, although I have heard them much praised, 

 are far inferior to mallard, widgeon, or teal, which are, in 



