OBTEGARR. 135 



The most beautiful and least elevated of these 

 secluded tarns is called Ortegarr its old Gaelic 

 title. The first time I visited it was during a 

 stormy day, with three or four other gunners, for 

 the express purpose of getting a shot at the wild- 

 fowl, rough weather proving favourable for the 

 sport, as they then quit the tempestuous estuary 

 at the mouth of the river and the exposed lagoons 

 along its sides, and seek the comparatively sheltered 

 waters of this loch. The continuous roar, too, of 

 the wind through the pine-trees is all in favour of 

 sport, as the approach of the shooters stealthily 

 crawling towards the margin, from opposite direc- 

 tions, is less likely to be revealed to the watchful 

 birds by the snapping of dead branches or any other 

 sound, and on this occasion each of us succeeded 

 in reaching his own especial little screen of 

 boughs, constructed near the banks, before any of 

 them were alarmed. Presently a whirring of wings 

 and a loud quacking, followed by two or three 

 shots from the opposite side, told that we were 

 discovered, and a brisk fusillade commenced. 

 Mallards, ducks, and toal flew over our heads 

 within easy distance, and many fell at the first 

 volley. Then circling round several times in de- 

 tached parties, they presented more difficult shots, 

 but by our remaining in concealment, some of the 



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