2 90 Notes on Sport and Travel i 



out the deer, and he within twenty yards o't. Ay ! 

 he sees the ravens, and is going up. We'll be off 

 and raise the stag, and then see what is on the hill.' 

 Twenty minutes' run brings us up to Jeemie and 

 the white powney, the former staring admiringly, and 

 the latter snuffing complacently at our stag, while 

 three pair of ravens croak, and hop, and whet 

 their bills on the stones a few yards off. I should 

 very much like to see how ravens dispose of ' gral- 

 loch,' particularly when they are tolerably numerous, 

 but that is a business as mysterious as the birds 

 themselves ; we left plenty yesterday, and now the 

 heather is clean, and had we not sunk the poch-a-bui 

 (I don't pretend to spell Gaelic, be it clearly under- 

 stood) with its contained treasures in the burn, they 

 would have cleared off that too. One pair, evidently 

 young, dance wildly on a stone, under the impres- 

 sion that we are interfering unjustly with their future 

 meals ; but the old ones sit solemnly and croak 

 gloomily and reprovingl}', as if to say, ' Stupid young 

 creatures ! don't you know yet that tJiey always get 

 the best of everything ? ' Never mind what they say ; 

 let us look at the stag for a moment, and think 

 whether the long curved antlers, springing so boldly 

 out of the purple heather, look as large and have as 

 many points as we fancied last night, when we 

 packed him up. ' 'Deed it's a bonny staig ! and look 

 at his broo antlers, and his dags, and the spread of 

 his cabers.' Up with him ; Jeemie, though you never 

 killed a stag in your life, you are as keen about 



