34G REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN. 



a view, and he pulled down the deer. Thus I ac- 

 counted for forty-four out of forty-eight deer ; and 

 when it is considered that the forest consists of 

 upwards of sixty thousand acres, and that the deer 

 have a power to range the whole of it if they please, 

 and that I followed the hound on foot, my brother 

 sportsmen in the highlands, and old friend Mr. Horatio 

 Ross, who I am sorry to say I have not seen for 

 years, will admit that, as portrayed by Landseer in 

 one of his pictures, " There was life in the old dog 

 yet," — there still is a step or two left in me. 



In concluding these Reminiscences, I cannot do so 

 without a short notice of bonnie Scotland; that region 

 of mist and mystery, mountain and moving flood. 

 Though its sports on forest, loch, and river have often 

 been eulogised by writers well versed in their wild 

 variety; yet it is not unbecoming in me to glance at 

 scenes in which I have shared with so much pleasure. 

 In the Lowlands of Stranraer, on Lord Stair's do- 

 mains, I have killed the moor game, pheasant, and 

 partridge, and the perch, pike, and trout of its lakes 

 and streams. At Dall, in the western Highlands, on 

 the banks of Loch Rannoch, and in the Black Wood, 

 I have done the same ; and though last not least, with 

 Lord Malmsbury I have trod the magnificent moun- 

 tains of Lochiel, stalked the wild stag, or waited for 

 him in the passes of the forest. 



It is the fashion of the Ens-lish tourist to roam 

 abroad, to rush down the Rhine, "going foreign" in 

 search of sights and scenery, and to rave of the pic- 

 turesque; while at the same time those very pleasure- 

 seekers, in all probability, have never seen the views 

 of the Wye, or sailed from Glasgow through the 

 Highlands and islands of Scotland. From the rapidity 



