46 BRUAR LODGE. 



sunrise, conscientiously putting the deer-stalker decidedly 

 first. Still let him beware of indulging his appetite too 

 liberally. Something we shall say on this subject when 

 we touch upon the necessary qualities and conduct of a 

 deer-stalker. But, after all, what is the use of preaching 

 up abstinence to a craving, ravenous mortal? Eat he 

 inevitably will, to an imprudent extent, and with zeal 

 well worthy of a better cause, notwithstanding we tell 

 him he may as well swallow coals of fire, like Portia. 



About eight reputed miles north of Blair Atholl, which 

 distance would be numbered ten in a country of mile- 

 stones, you descend into a glen, which is of a wild and 

 desolate character. The heather being old, is rather of a 

 brown than a purple colour; but there is some relief of 

 greensward near the lodge, and more in various patches 

 near the winding course of the Bruar. Huge, lofty, and 

 in the district of Atholl second only in magnitude to 

 Ben-y-gloe, Ben Dairg, or the red mountain, stands do- 

 minant. At the right entrance of the pass, the little white 

 and lonely dwelling, called Bruar Lodge, lies a mere speck 

 beneath it. It consists of two small tenements, facing 

 each other, encompassed by a wall, so as to form a small 

 court between them : one of these buildings serves for the 

 master, and the other for his servants. There is, besides, 

 a lodging-place for the hill men, rather frail in structure, 

 and a dog-kennel of the same picturesque character. Close 

 by stands a black stack of peats. Down winds the river 

 Bruar through the glen, sometimes creeping silently through 

 the mossy stones, and at others raving, maddening, and 

 bearing all before it, so that neither man nor beast may 

 withstand its violence. Nearly in front of the little lodge 



