CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO AUTUMN 



I had bled him, and examined the shot-marks. One had 

 broken the very top of his shoulder, but just missed the 

 large arteries; the otherball seemed to have passed through 

 his heart. The Highlander was vastly delighted at our get- 

 ting the stag we had determined on, but his enjoyment was 

 somewhat damped by my not having sent both barrels into 

 the middle of the hinds. "Aiblins your honour would have 

 tuk down twa or three at each shot, and the brutes will all 

 be off our march in an hour's time. Lord, Sir, if I had only 

 been where your honour was, with the dooble-barrel load- 

 ed with swan-post, I'd hae rattled it about their lugs; I fair- 

 ly suspect I'd have put down half-a-dizen." I consoled 

 Donald with a dram, and we set to work to prepare our 

 stag for taking home, which, with the help of a shepherd's 

 pony, we succeeded in doing before night. 



Donald, though, professedly, he cared for neither wind 

 nor weather, was in bed all the next day, from what he 

 called rheumatiz, but what I called whisky toddy, taken to 

 counteract any bad effects of his cold bivouac; for my own 

 part, I did not feel at all the worse for our cool couch, and 

 was quite ready to renew the campaign. 







