REMINISCENCES OF A ROSS-SHIRE FOREST. 129 



was, with a fair head of eight points, and very 

 exultant we were at the way we had got him. There 

 was nothing for it but to leave him out for the night, 

 so after " cleaning " him, covering him over with 

 heather, and tying a pocket-handkerchief to his horns 

 to scare the vermin, we made for the stable. 



" I'll tell you what it is, Duncan," I remarked, as 

 we walked along, "that was just a little like poaching." 



"Oh no, sir," he replied; "better we should get 

 him than other folk. They're terrible greedy ower 

 the water, and he might have crossed himself to our 

 side whatever." 



"So he might of course; I hadn't thought of 

 that. But, I say, Duncan, some people want to 

 know far more than is good for them, so we'll just 

 keep this story to ourselves." 



Next morning, Friday the 6th, I got to the stable 

 in good time. Duncan jumped up, and we drove on 

 other four miles to the river, where we found a 

 gillie who had been sent on early with a pony. 

 We followed the river up for a couple of miles, 

 till we came to our stag of yesterday. Him we 

 lifted up, laid across the pony, and sent home, after 

 which we started on our travels. We hadn't walked 

 ten minutes till we saw in front of us a very large 

 wild goat, only the second animal of the kind I had 

 ever seen in the forest. I wanted to leave him alone, 

 but Duncan was bent on slaughter. 



" He has a splendid head, sir, he'll look grand 

 VOL. v. I 



