252 DAYS OF DEER-STALKING. 



bogs soon become deep, and the pony is sent back to the 

 regions below. Onward he strides on foot, lessening to the 

 sight by degrees, till he is dimly seen from the glen, and 

 soon entirely lost in the mountain mist. As no operations 

 can be carried on during such an impediment to the view, 

 the party sit down in a little hollow near the summits, 

 where a small burn creeps lazily through the mosses. But 

 the vapours rise speedily, and form into small clouds, 

 that begin to dapple the distant mountain-peaks : onward 

 move the party cheerily ; the day promises fairly ; the wind 

 is propitious : Care sails scowling with her hollow eyes- 

 through the vapour, and leaves our riflemen with the com- 

 fortable prospect of a fair field for operations. 



The sport began unexpectedly ; for a few deer, that could 

 not be seen during the mist, broke out suddenly from a hol- 

 low towards the east, at the back of the Grianan-Moir, and 

 raced away towards Cairn-chlamain. They were at an 

 awful distance ; but as the course of the leading ones was 

 decided, and the tail ones in the hollow were out of sight of 

 the rifleman, he made a dash forward, and thus gained con- 

 siderably upon the spot of their crossing ; so that when these 

 latter began to appear, he took a long shot at a hart, which 

 was evidently struck by the ball. 



"Never heed him, Peter; forward, forward, man." 



" Why, sure, then, we mun stop and tak' tent o' the 

 deer?" 



" No, no ; no such thing. Here, Maclaren, take Percy ; 

 run forward, and hold the deer at bay. Come along, Peter, 

 more deer will join them, and we shall have them again as 

 they come out of the mouth of Glen Croinie." 



Away they dashed at the top of their speed, at least Tor- 

 toise most assuredly did so ; but as he made " gallant show 

 and promise of his mettle, so, like a deceitful jade, he sank 

 in the trial." What, dead beat ! He whom Maga in former 

 times, and in her flattering mood, extolled for feats on river, 

 mountain, lake, and moor ; he dead beat ? Alas ! yes, most 

 certainly, most undeniably so, and blowing like a grampus. 

 The way was short : but what will not pace effect ? Some 

 how or another, however, he held on without being much 

 the worse for it. 



