SOME REMARKS ON FOREGOING CHAPTERS 275 



slow process. Hence when half the journey had been made, 

 I sat down on a dry heather bank by the side of the ditch 

 which drained the track, and was proceeding to fill a pipe 

 when suddenly right from under me there came a deep groan. 

 Needless to say this caused me to spring to my feet with a 

 bound, as I exclaimed — 



" Who's there ? Get up, whoever you are, and let me have 

 a look at you-." 



To this exhortation a voice replied from the bottom of the 

 ditch — 



" Eh, mon ! we are just poor tinkers who left Fort William 

 this morning and have lost our way." 



Then there emerged from the peat hag thrcs dim figures, 

 which I learnt were Mr., Mrs. and Master Tinker. Poor 

 creatures, they were of the tramp tribe, and worn out with 

 the fatigues of their thirty-mile journey, they had laid down 

 to sleep in the dry peat of the ditch, whilst I by strange 

 chance had seated myself right over them. They had no 

 reason however to regret . their awakening, for I took the 

 whole lot on to Corrour, where my old friend the late Henry 

 Spencer Lucy made them happy with hare soup, roast beef, 

 and whisky toddy, followed by a shake-down in the straw loft. 



Having now come to the end of my tether, it remains but 

 to hope I have succeeded in making these recollections of 

 Highland sport readable and amusing, but whatever the 

 verdict may be, my very best thanks are due to the many 

 eminent sportsmen who, themselves possessing far better 

 knowledge of the subjects herein discussed, have yet been 

 kind enough to support me in the publication of this book. 



