CHAPTER II 



A GAMEKEEPER OF THE OLD SCHOOL 



BLEAK, uninteresting sheet 

 '^ of water, surrounded by swel- 

 ling grassy moorlands, which 

 are covered here and there, 

 more or less sparsely, with 

 heather. Such is the descrip- 

 tion that a casual visitor 

 might apply to Lochinvar. 

 But ah ! — how differently it 

 appears to one who has known 

 it since boyhood I The very name brings back 

 memories of long glorious days spent there amidst 

 that pure, free air, with the whistling of the moor- 

 fowl, both plaintive and gay, on every side. Who 

 can forget the music of the curlew's love-song, 

 beginning with its deep pathetic note, many times 

 repeated, which labours ever upward until the final 

 joyous trill is reached ? Or the far-carrying, melan- 



