HIGHLAND SPORT 



CHAPTER I 



MURDOCH CAMPBELL'S REVENGE 



One Easter, some twenty years ago, I received an invitation 

 from my old friend Murdoch Campbell to come to him for a 

 month at Marathon House, situated on the wild west coast of 

 Scotland, somewhere between Crinan and Strome Ferry. 



From youth up I had been devoted to rod and gun, and 

 hence, in those days, my attention had been somewhat ardendy 

 turned to pigeon shooting, an amusement which was then far 

 more fashionable but less business-like than it is now. 



In the period to which this story belongs the licence to kill 

 game expired on the last day of the shooting season ; the ten- 

 shilling gun licence was also in existence, and a report had 

 been spread abroad that the excise officers contemplated a raid 

 on the members of the Gun Club and Hurlingham, with the 

 object of fining all those who were not provided with the 

 necessary authority to use a gun, while certain it is that had 

 they done so they would have made a rich haul. Thus some 

 of us had already taken out game licences for that year, for it 

 made us safe, and it was but parting with three pounds a few 

 months before the usual time. Therefore, when Easter arrived, 

 I started for Marathon Cottage in possession of a game licence, 

 which, as the sequel will show, was of more service to me in 

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