LEAVES FROM A GAME BOOK. 167 



the first time I broke the spell by killing a stag with more 

 than a dozen points, to present the stalker with a bottle 

 of whisky for each point, and having asked him what 

 particular brand of mountain dew was his own special 

 weakness, I got for answer, " Thank you kindly, sir ; it 

 will be seven-year-old Glenleevit that I'll be taking." 



The head ol this stag now hangs over my dining-room 

 mantel-piece, and I never look at it without recalling to 

 mind that exciting stalk, together with the many happy 

 days I passed at Gaick as the guest of one of the best 

 of sportsmen and good fellows. 



The day following this exploit was Sunday, and I am 

 here about 'to relate a small adventure which did not 

 happen at Gaick, as I consider it would be a breach of 

 faith to give the name of my host and the friendly 

 minister; the incident, however, took place on "The 

 Sawbeth," but not in Inverness-shire. 



As this day passed somewhat slowly in a forest 

 lodge, and as I had no letters to write, as soon as 

 a late breakfast was over, I strolled off to the loch 

 side to enjoy the sunny landscape while rejoicing in 



