CAPERCAILZIE AND AFTERTHOUGHTS 167 



bucket into the well, and up comes the 

 sparkling spring. 



Once more one is standing surrounded by 

 mighty hills, whose snow crests touch high 

 heaven, bearing one's own heart thitherward ; 

 the blue waters are at one's feet, the woods lie 

 purple and green and brown around one, the 

 stillness of the air throbs with the whirring of 

 wings ; the grey to-day borrows for a moment 

 the gold of yesterday, and one turns back to 

 the daily task or the uncongenial duty 

 strangely refreshed and quietened by the 

 vision that neither time nor place can take 

 away. 



Therefore, if the true keynote of sport be 

 attainment, its best result is the memory of 

 happy, healthful days, be they among the 

 wild corries or in the stir of a gallop ; in the 

 reflection of silver waters or among the 

 heather and woods, sometimes in solitude, 

 or, better still, with a twin soul. The actual 

 fades, the remembrance remains to echo glad 

 music down the years. 



