20 WANDERINGS AND MEMORIES 



Oyster-Catcher on the River Tay at Dalguise, the 

 nipple of the old muzzle-loading 12-bore I had 

 hired blew out and cut my cheek rather badly. 

 My father, being a man of common sense, knew 

 well I would get a gun somehow or other, and so 

 gave me a beautiful little 20-bore, which, being 

 a full choke, was a fine killing weapon, and with it 

 I shot the greater part of my collection. By the 

 \ time I was thirteen I was a fairly experienced shot, 

 and commenced my long wanderings on the sea- 

 coasts of Scotland, roaming from Dunbar in the 

 south to Loch ErreboU in Sutherland. Three times 

 I walked the whole length of the east and north- 

 east coasts, often being forced, in getting from high- 

 water mark to the next public ground, to cross 

 moorlands where grouse and rabbits were abun- 

 dant. Often was I stopped by infuriated game- 

 keepers, but on learning my errand, that of the'^ 

 pursuit of wild birds, and finding no game in my bag, 

 they were convinced of my innocence. They were 

 nearly always kind, and often walked for miles to;| 

 show me the nearest route to the next area of sands. | 

 Scottish gamekeepers, as a rule, have some love for ^ 

 Nature, and being interested in such a little chap 

 on his travels, took me to their houses and gave me 

 tea. Sometimes I slept on the floor or sofa, and 

 they never refused hospitality at night. I knew 

 in time every fisherman and longshoreman between 

 St. Andrews and Arbroath, which was my favourite 

 beat in autumn and winter, and was known to 

 them as " Johnny with the long gun." In 1880 I 

 purchased from an innkeeper in Perth a pup coUie- 

 and-smooth-coated retriever mongrel, which was the 

 best and most courageous dog I have ever seen. 



M 



