WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS 



surrounded on all sides by a long stretch of broken black 

 ground. The well itself was in a little round hollow, sur- 

 rounded by high banks. 



I was resting here, having met my gillie, and was consol- 

 ing myself for my want of success by smokinga cigar,when, 

 at the s'ame moment, a kind of shadow came across me, and 

 the pointers who were coupled at my feet pricked up their 

 ears and growled, with their eyes fixed on some object be- 

 hind me. My keeper, who had been out with me all day, was 

 stretched on his back, in a half slumber, and the gillie was 

 kneeling down taking a long draught at the cool well, with 

 the enjoyment of one who had had a long toiling walk on a 

 hot August day. Turning my head lazily to see what had 

 roused the dogs, and had cast its shadow across me, instead 

 of a shepherd, as I expected — could I believe my eyes! — 

 there stood a magnificent stag, with the fine shaped horns 

 peculiar to those of the Sutherland forests. He was stand- 

 ing on the bank immediately behind me,andnot above fifty 

 yards offlookingwithastonishment at thegroupbefore him, 

 who had taken possession of the veryspot where he had in- 

 tended to slake his thirst.The deer seemed too much aston- 

 ished to move, and for amoment I was in the same dilemma. 

 The rifle was on the ground just behind the slumbering 

 Donald. I was afraid the deer would be off out of sight, if 

 I got up to take it, or if I called loud enough to awake Don- 

 ald. So I was driven to the necessity of giving hima pretty 

 severe kick, which had the effect of making him turn on his 

 side, and open his eyes with a grunt. "The rifle, Donald, 

 therifle," I whispered, holdingout my hand. Scarcely know- 

 ing what he was at, he instinctively stretched out his hand 



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