166 DEER-STALKING IN THE HIGHLANDS. 



all around are the bones of young fawns, lambs, and moor- 

 fowl, the prey of the fox, the wild cat. and the eagle. A little 

 higher, and they are on the top of Ben Dairg, looking down 

 as upon a new world. Here everything bears the original im- 

 press of nature, untouched by the hand of man since its crea- 

 tion. The vast moor spread out below, the mass of huge 

 mountains heaving up their crests around, the peaks in the 

 distance, faint almost as the sky itself, give the appearance of 

 an extent boundless and sublime as the ocean. Through all 

 this desolate region there is nothing that can remind you of 

 domestic life ; you shall hear no sound but, the rushing of the 

 torrent, or the notes of the wild animals, the natural inhabit- 

 ants ; you shall see only the moor-fowl and the plover flying 

 before you from hillock to hillock, or the eagle soaring aloft 

 with his eyes to the sun or his wings wet with mist. The 

 stalker now lays down his rifle on the heather, creeps forward 

 on his hands and knees to a spot where he may have the best 

 view of the glens below, steadily poises his telescope, and takes 

 a minute survey. Disappointed, he is about to turn away and 

 shift his position, when a something attracts his attention in 

 the bog, by the burn under an opposite mountain. " It is. 

 yes, it is a hart ! a fine, noble fellow, with a magnificent pair 

 of antlers, as he shows us by that toss of his head." With a 

 rapid yet accurate glance the landmarks all round the spot 

 where the hart lies are noted, one of the party is left to watch 

 his movements, whilst the others endeavor by a circuitous 

 route to get within shot. They descend the hill easily enough, 

 but now must advance on their hands and knees over the 

 surface of the black bog ; now they must descend into the 

 rocky burn, following its continual windings, until they reach 

 a piece of green sward, open to the view of the watchful 

 hinds, who are scattered on the surface of the hill above the 

 devoted hart. What is now to be done ? A still more cir- 

 cuitous path is sought in vain. " Raise not a foot nor a hand." 

 commands the leader ; " let not a hair of your head be seen ; 

 imitate my motions precisely." He lies down upon his breast, 

 and worms himself along, half stifled, concealed only by a 



