A DAY AFTER PTARMIGAN 119 



The ptarmigan had their winter coats almost 

 complete, and on the wing in the fading light 

 against the grey they looked like snowflakes. 



Seeing there was no more chance, and that 

 if we were not to be benighted or bemisted we 

 had better turn homewards, we gradually 

 went down the east side of the hill, the 

 opposite end to the way we had climbed up in 

 the morning. We came on deer in every 

 sheltered corner, and sneaked quietly by to 

 avoid disturbing them, and so down into the 

 " flats," across which we plowtered through 

 long wet grass, in and out of peat hags and bogs, 

 drenched from below and above, for the last 

 hour and a half it rained as out of a tap ; but 

 that was small matter. 



I for one, cared naught. I had snatched 

 one more day of the hill. I hadlookedlong and 

 deep into the eyes of the North as I bade her 

 aiifwiederschen before she sank into her 

 winter sleep in the great silent corries ; I 

 had felt that strange stir of the heart at the 

 wind's song of the hills. I had watched the 

 deer, and I had got my ptarmigan. 



