THE WOUNDED DEEI1. 89 



out broken bones at least I may, at any rate. But con- 

 sole yourself: you are not to blame, but rather your 

 half-boots. Get the proper material in future, thick 

 shoes with nails, or Scotch brogues 



' The hardy brogue, a' sewed wi' whang, 

 With London shoes can bide the bang, 

 O'er moss and muir with them to gang.' * 



6 By the foot of Pharaoh ! ' as Captain Bobadil says, but 

 this must be amended." 



" Peter, do you see the wounded deer amongst the 

 lot which are foremost ? " 



" Xa, na, he's no there ; he'll be coming up ahent." 



" Give me the glass. I see him plainly enough : he is 



shot through the body, rather far behind, and cannot go 



far. Now one of the deer is licking his wound now 



he begins to falter now he turns aside and sends a 



O 



wistful look after his companions, who are fast leaving 

 him, happy and free as the air we breathe. He is 

 milking another effort to regain them : poor fellow ! 

 it may not be you shall never join them more. Never 

 again shall you roam with them over the grey mountains, 

 never more brave the storm together sun your 

 red flanks in the corrie or go panting down to your 

 wonted streams : * brief has been your dwelling on 

 the moor.' " 



" And now I am resolutely determined never to fire 

 at a deer again, no, never whilst I live. It is a bar- 

 barous and inhuman practice ; the act of a savage, and 

 ought to be punished by branding, hanging, or at least 



* Galloway's Poems. 



