REMINISCENCES OF A ROSS-SHIRE FOREST. 131 



times, he stuck to it like a man, reminding me much 

 of a Skye terrier engaged with a hedgehog, conscious 

 that the job he has on hand is a nasty one, but de- 

 termined to finish it at whatever personal incon- 

 venience. When the obsequies were over, Billy was 

 stretched out behind a rock, and left "to be called 

 for." 



" We have wasted just an hour over that 

 stinking brute," I said, acrimoniously ; " do come 

 along." 



" lie has a fine head, sir," said Duncan again, 

 "but he has a very bad smell." 



" Xot an uncommon thing with the he-goat," I 

 replied. " You're not particularly sweet yourself 

 now, Duncan ; if we get near a deer to-day, I shall 

 be a good deal surprised. Why, / could wind you 

 half a mile off." 



Duncan took a sniff at his coat-sleeve, which had 

 been in close proximity to the deceased, and looked 

 rather ashamed of himself. Meanwhile we were get- 

 ting up the hill again, and having reached the top we 

 made straight down the centre of the forest. We 

 walked for the better part of an hour, when Duncan 

 pulled up. 



" There were some hinds here, sir, the other day, 

 we had better have a look." Almost as soon as he 

 put the glass to his eye it stopped steady as a rock. 

 " The hinds are there, sir," he said. 



" Anything with them 1 " I asked. 



