ABOVE THE PINE-ZONE 27 



II 



AMONG THE WILD RED-DEER 



THE fragrant shelter of the pine- wood still lies below 

 me, and I am alone on the wide rounded steep of an 

 open hill. For some time I have mounted slowly 

 and steadily up a mountain track. The bracken 

 is unfolding green fingers among the loose grey 

 stones, and where the verdure is damp and mossy 

 the tiny butterwort hangs a single purple bell. As 

 I climb higher I leave both bracken and Alpine 

 flowers behind. The air freshens, and filmy mountain 

 mists blow over the ravines of the surrounding 

 steeps. The ground under my feet is dark and 

 curiously springy, and tussocks of long half-dead 

 grass grow thickly and evenly all over the stretches 

 of peat. A few hundred yards above me, on the side 

 of the mountain, there is silent, watchful life. Thirty 

 or forty wild red-deer have been feeding in their 

 wind-swept sanctuary, and have raised questioning 

 heads at my presence below them. They do not 

 move away, but remain motionless and alert; and 

 slowly my eyes pick out the red-brown forms one by 

 one from the wide stillness of the hill. I begin to 

 climb quietly in their direction, and there is a stir 

 among them. In twos and threes they draw to- 

 gether, and quietly the herd closes up. The deer 



