CHAPTER XXVI THE MUCKLE HART 



valley below with our telescopes. 1 1 was a large flat, strewed 

 with huge slabs of stone, and surrounded on all sides but 

 one with dark rocks. At the farther end were two black 

 lochs, connected by a sluggish stream; beside the larger 

 loch a bit of coarse grass and rushes, where we could dis- 

 tinguish a brood ofwild ducks swimming in and out. It was 

 difficult ground to see a deer in, if lying; and I had almost 

 given up seeking, when Donald's glass became motionless, 

 and he gave a sort of grunt as he changed his posture, but 

 without taking the glass from his eye. "Ugh! I'm thinking 

 yon'shim,sir: I'm seeing his horns." I was at first incredul- 

 ous. What he showed me close to the longf crrassi have men- 

 tioned looked foralltheworldlikesome withered sticks; but 

 the doubt was short. While we gazed the stag rose and com- 

 menced feeding; and at last I saw the great hart of Benmore! 

 He was a long way off, perhaps a mile and a half, but 

 in excellent ground for getting at him. Our plan was soon 

 arranged. I was to stalk him with the rifle, while Donald, 

 with my gun and Bran, was to get round, out of sight, to 

 the pass by which the deer was likely to leave the valley. 

 My task was apparently very easy. After getting down be- 

 hind the rock I had scarcely to stoop my head, but to walk 

 up within shot, so favoura ble was the ground and the wind. 

 I walked cautiously, however, and slowly, to give Donald 

 time to reach the pass. I was now within three hundred 

 yards of him, when, as I leant against a slab of stone, all hid 

 below my eyes, I saw him give a sudden start, stop feeding, 

 and look round suspiciously. What a noble beast! what a 

 stretch of antler! with a mane like a lion! He stood for a 

 minute or two, snuffing every breath. I could not guess the 

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