HO WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



everything should be made plain to the most limited 

 capacity of mind. When he got in front of that fine 

 pair of antlers he would look up at them and say, 

 1 Ah ! well do I remember the day when the stag that 

 carried those noble antlers fell to my rifle on the 

 rugged heights of the mighty Ben Voirlas. Though 

 mortally wounded, he did not fall at once, but came 

 to bay in a most determined manner near a huge 

 fragment of rock. My gallant Oscar, a deerhound of 

 undaunted courage, was killed on the spot in attempt- 

 ing to pull him down by one terrific stroke from 

 those antlers. Poor Oscar ! I have never been able 

 to replace him. Sadly dispirited, I was compelled to 

 leave both as evening was near until the follow- 

 ing morning. Just as day broke over the mountain 

 tops, with a couple of gillies I arrived at the spot, 

 and found that monarch of the clouds which you see 

 over there standing on the body of the dead stag. 

 To level my rifle and fire was the work of a moment ; 

 and he fell dead to the shot They are fine trophies, 

 each in their way. You will observe that the eagle 

 is a grand old bird, for the winters and summers 

 of nearly one hundred years, at the least computa- 

 tion, have bleached the feathers of his noble head 

 white.' 



When the reader is informed that the noble pair 



