242 DINNER. 



good wind-up to our highland-shooting : and as we sprang 

 several scattered birds during our return, we decided that this 

 was our best day throughout the season, and worthy of the 

 brightest page of the game-book, in which all our failures and 

 successes were duly and faithfully chronicled since we took to 

 the hills. 



A curious incident, supplied us with an excellent white 

 fish. The servant who brought the post-bag, when in. 

 the act of crossing the river, which, in his route from 

 the Lodge, he was obliged to do repeatedly, most un- 

 expectedly encountered a large otter carrying off a salmon 

 he had just seized. The postman attacked the poacher 

 vigorously, who, dropping his prey, glided off into the 

 deep water at the tail of the ford. The spoil proved to be a 

 fresh salmon not twenty hours from the sea, and consequently 

 in prime condition. The otter showed himself the best 

 artist of the day; for while the Colonel and his com- 

 panion returned with empty baskets, the little animal 

 managed to secure the finest and freshest salmon in the 

 river. 



To give clat to our parting feast, a red-deer haunch had 

 been reserved, and in its roasting, John, as poor Napoleon 

 would say, "covered himself with glory." Dinner passed 

 as such a dinner should pass. The Colonel and the Priest 

 appeared bent upon conviviality. We too prepared for a 

 jovial carouse ; and it was generally determined that our 

 parting banquet should be the "merriest, as the last." 



Evening passed quickly there was no moon visible till 

 after midnight, and the wind, which had hitherto been 

 unheard, began to make that mournful noise around the 

 cabin, which generally indicates an approaching change of 

 weather. The otter-killer's absence was now, for the first 

 time, remarked, and I observed that my kinsman rose fre- 

 quently from the table, to look long and anxiously from the 

 window. Another hour passed, and our alarm was fear- 

 fully increased, for, aware of the feebleness of the old man, we 

 apprehended that he would be unable to make good his 

 journey ; and, if benighted in the moors, the probability was 

 great that he would perish of cold before the morning. 



While we remained in painful suspense, each feeling an 

 unwillingness to interrupt the comfort of the evening by 

 expressing fears that haply might only be imaginary, a squall 

 rushed v,p the river, and showed us that the wind had 



