266 NIMROUS NORTHERN TOUR. 



name with his long grey locks and ruddy countenance, which 

 plainly denoted the nature of the occupation he had followed, 

 placed in the seat of honour, and with a bumper of old port wine 

 in his hand, pledging to his laird and the company in the full 

 dialect of his nation, and evidently in the fulness of his heart. 

 Nor did the agreeable interlude end here. Nothing could induce 

 Donald to take a second glass of wine, such was the propriety of 

 his feeling ; and after relating an anecdote or two of his exploits, 

 and answering some questions which were put to him, he made 

 his bow and retired, although not until he had been heartily 

 shaken by the hand, both by Lord Fife, by the general, and by 

 Lord Kintore as well. 



Having spoken of old servants and in the sporting line, I must 

 not omit the mention of one who is greatly entitled to my notice, 

 being the oldest huntsman in Scotland. This is John Craick 

 (commonly pronounced Crack\ who hunted hounds in the Tur- 

 riff country, almost ever since it was hunted at all ; and for 

 several seasons for the late Duke of Gordon, when Marquis of 

 Huntley. Previously to my arrival in Scotland, indeed, I was 

 told that I must see John Craick ; and Lord Kintore took care 

 that I should see him, by sending to invite him to Cask. 



About an hour after dinner then, on one of the days I passed 

 at Cask, and in the presence I believe of only Lord Kintore, 

 Captain Barclay, Mr. Dingwall, and myself, John was ushered 

 into the room, and seated by my side. His dress was just what 

 it should have been a red coat, a striped waistcoat, cord breeches 

 and gaiters, and a white cravat, tied after the old fashion in a 

 double knot, and confined to his breast with a shirt-pin, no bow 

 being allowed in the strictness of this costume. Neither must 

 the lower button of the waistcoat be in the button-hole, to render 

 the toilette complete. But now for John Craick himself. I 

 could soon perceive that ho was not a Scotchman, but from a 

 bordering county, and I think by the burr on his tongue, he 

 claims either Cumberland or Yorkshire, his early history having 

 escaped me. His figure was just what it should have been, to 

 ride well over a country ; and he had an eye in his head which 

 looked as if Time could not greatly dim it although I should 

 say, that nearly eighty summers had rolled over his head before 

 I saw him. John Craick's cup had not, I think, been " quaffed 

 too quickly," neither was there " wormwood in the dregs," for he 

 looked healthy and happy, although living, I fear, on a very 

 small pittance in the town of TurrirT, once the scene of his glory. 

 Lord Kintore, and perhaps a few besides, occasionally send him 

 a five-pound note to comfort him, but I confess that when I saw 

 him next day in his lodgings, it made my heart sad to see a good 



