290 TOUR IN SUTHERLANDSHIRE. 



and here we saw a great many blackcocks, either perched on 

 the leafless branches of the birch, or trying to make a scanty 

 meal of the juniper-berries, which they contrived to get at 

 here and there, where the snow was not so deep. I shot a 

 couple of tine old birds as they flew over our heads from one 

 side of the river to the other ; and Donald missed several 

 more, as shooting flying is decidedly not his forte. 



Our approach had been observed from a distance, and the 

 shepherd was ready to receive us. His wife, " on hospitable 

 cares intent," hurried to and fro, piling peats and fir-roots on 

 the fire. I had got wet at the spring where we killed the 

 ducks, and my trousers, higher than my knees, were as hard 

 as boards with the intense frost that had come on as the even- 

 ing set in. However, " Igne levatur hyems " I was soon 

 thawed to a proper consistency, and immediately began to 

 superintend the cooking of some of our game. In as short a 

 time as possible a stew worthy of Meg Merrilies herself was 

 prepared ; but with true Highland taste Donald preferred, or 

 pretended to prefer, some " braxy ' mutton which the shep- 

 herd's wife set before him ; the odour of which was enough 

 to breed the plague or the cholera anywhere but in a High- 

 land hut. " Deed, your honour," said the shepherd, " it's no 

 that bad, considering we did not find the sheep for some days 

 after it died, and the corbies had pulled it about a bit. The 

 weather was gay and wet at the time, or it would not have 

 had such a high flavour ; but we steeped it a day or so, to 

 get rid of the greenness of the meat." I thought to myself 

 that, " considering " all this, together with the additional fact 

 that the sheep had died of a kind of inward mortification, 

 the bowels of Donald and the shepherd must be stronger 

 even than the " Dura illia messorum " which we read of at 

 school. 



Our host was tolerably confident that we should manage 

 to get a few ptarmigan if we started early, so as to make 

 the most of the day, and if the snow continued hard. " But 

 for a' that, it will be no easy travelling," was his final 

 remark. 



Before daylight I was up, and making my toilette by the 

 light of a splinter of bog fir. The operation did not take long, 

 nor did it extend beyond the most simple and necessary 

 acts. The " gudewife " had prepared me rather an elaborate 

 breakfast of porridge, tea, and certain undeniably good 

 barley and oat cakes, flanked by the remains of my supper, 



