NIM ROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 215 



in air' in his best style, and topping up the evening with a good supper 

 and a glass of old whiskey toddy, the best I ever tasted, we cared 

 not a rush on our road home for all the kittle places in Scotland. 



Knocked about the world as I have been, there are few nations 

 of whom I have not seen a specimen, but never until this day 

 did I have my legs under the same table with a Norwegian 

 still less with a distinguished officer of the Norwegian navy. 

 This was Captain Leslie, of that service, related twofold to out- 

 host ; first, by kindred blood, and, secondly, by having married 

 his sister. Fortunately for me, this was one of his triennial visits 

 to Dunlugas ; and I say fortunately, because I should have 

 missed the opportunity of seeing what I considered to be a fine 

 specimen of any nation a kind hearted, honest sailor, uniting 

 the characteristic traits of his profession, with the easy deportment 

 of the gentleman. From his intercourse with Great Britain, he is 

 sufficiently conversant in our language, and, barring a trifling 

 peculiarity of accent, might readily be mistaken for a native of 

 it. But what can he say of us Britons, I marvel, when he returns 

 to Norway, after having confessed to me, as he did confess, that 

 he drank more wine and grog during a six months' visit to Scot- 

 land, than he drank in his own cold country in the period of 

 three years ? What ! why that the Scotch squires are a devilish 

 jolly set of fellows, and his own dead slow. The captain, how- 

 ever, has rare stowage for a big drink, being a good specimen of 

 his country's race, with very much of a John Bullish appearance. 

 It will presently be seen, however, that his bodily capaciousness 

 was put to the test. 



Friday, 26. A good hunting day. Drew two or three covers 

 blank, and then found in a fine gorse, the hounds slipping away 

 from the lower end of it, at the devil's own pace, giving Joe a 

 start by himself. His huntsman, however, was pretty soon in his 

 place, and we had a very quick thirty-five minutes to the first 

 check, killing him in Hatton Park. Lord Kintore rode one of 

 his old Berkshire horses, a thorough-bred roarer, who carried him 

 brilliantly, and I rode another, The Professor, a great favourite 

 of his lordship's. The pace was a little too quick for me, the 

 first quarter of an hour, and just as I had a chance to be with 

 them by a turn in my favour, I got a floorer at a brook which 

 put my chance aside. I never saw a more treacherous bit of 

 ground than the banks of this brook. They appeared as green 

 as a bowling-green, and smooth as a turnpike road, so that, try- 

 ing to catch hounds at the moment, I went very fast at it, when 

 TJie Professor found himself anything but in clover. He sank 

 above his knees on the rising side ; and as one of my stirrups 

 was wrenched out of the bars, I conclude I must have been in 



