BIRDS OF MOORLAND AND LOCH. 101 



Immediately we had turned our backs, the skua 

 rose from the knoll where she had been sitting 

 with her mate intently watching us, and, flying to 

 her nest, sat down with as little regard for our 

 hollow excrescence as if it had been an ordinary 

 heather knowe which, indeed, we had striven to 

 make it resemble as much as possible. 



This was as satisfactory to my companion as 

 it was encouraging to me. 



If you want to find the way to a gamekeeper's 

 heart, show him some scheme by which to outwit 

 effectually the cunning of a wild animal, and when 

 he has proved by experience that your idea is 

 fuller of reason than fancy, you have made a 

 friend for life of him. 



Next morning the weather proved to be dull 

 and windy, with a drizzling mist that made the 

 loch peppered moor look black and dismal, and 

 photographic chances gloomy in the extreme. 

 However, remembering that the disappointment 

 of the morning is often only the : black bag in 

 which the opportunity of the afternoon is hidden, 

 I went forth to try. 



The weight of the turves had driven my 

 slender tent irons far down into the soft peat 

 earth, but, in spite of this unavoidable reduction 

 of space, I managed to squeeze the camera and 

 myself into the dank apartment. The game- 

 keeper placed a large sheet of turf over the 



