Grouse Shooting. 125 



" I'd no like it," he replied, " it's a verra uncanny spot; there's ghaists 

 an' fairys, an' a' sairts o' bogles an' worricows, an' it's no lucky to disturb; 

 so we just let the birds breed there in peace." 



I found out afterwards that an astute old fellow who was keeper to 

 the last laird, Jock's father, had set this report afoot, and swore to all 

 manner of strange and heathenish sights, probably because the islet was a 

 snug breeding place, and an attraction to the glen, and he did not want it 

 disturbed. Many a tremendous legend has some such an origin. I've 

 known dreadful spirits to haunt such spots ; but a close inquisition often 

 raised the suspicion that, if they had horns like a barley braid, they had 

 tails like a worm and smelt strongly of whiskey. 



Having unearthed some of these legends in my time, I asked no 

 qxxestions, but quietly waited Chiffens's return ; and then we had indeed a 

 busy half-hour. The little glen was full of grouse ; covey after covey went 

 away, some ahead, some up, some down, and most of them minus a member 

 or two or more of the family. We got fourteen brace out of that hollow, 

 and were very jubilant over our success as we mounted the brae and left it 

 behind. Here we stopped to liquor, scanning the country before us curiously 

 with a view to our proceedings. On the right the hill grew more precipitous, 

 and a little way up there was a sort of stone quarry, where thousands of tons 

 of stones had heaped themselves up. 



" What a heap of stones ! " I remarked. 



" Ay, a big cairn yon, and an awfu' place for foxes." I looked 

 curious. " It's no sae bad the noo, for the fox hunter shot saven o'm 

 last Aprile, and then row'd some muckle stanes to the mouth o't ; and we're 

 no that troublit wi'm now. 



On the left the ground trended away down to a level flat, where it was 

 broken up with mosses and ditches. Before us was a gridiron of heather, 

 broken with big rocks and stones here and there, with strips of sweet grass 

 between, beloved by the sheep ; and about a mile and a half on ahead we 

 could see the clump of trees we were to lunch under. On the next brow 

 were some big lumps of shining quartz — the "Glitter Stanes" — and from 

 this we despatched Bostock, with his hamper of lunch on one side of the 

 pony, and a hamper of grouse on the other. Bostock felt rejoiced at being 



