REMINISCENCES OF A ROSS-SHIRE FOREST. 143 



and sauve qui peut was the order of the day with 

 them also. Unless a lovely blue eye at the end of a 

 telescope had been watching the proceedings, we 

 should never have known from that day to this what 

 had happened. How tame those deer are, and how 

 easy of approach, the reader may judge for himself. 



Had " Scotus " written against deer " driving," 

 more particularly as practised by one man in the 

 Highlands, who has made for himself a most unenvi- 

 able reputation, I should have endorsed every word 

 he wrote ; but that sport if sport it is is as much 

 to be compared to deer-stalking as " bobbing " for 

 eels at Lea Bridge to fishing for salmon in " Sprous- 

 ton Dub." 



Reluctantly I take leave of this elegant writer of 

 fiction, and turn for a moment to the columns of the 

 ' Spectator.' In August last a contributor suppose 

 we call him " Spectator " writing of the Highlands, 

 delivers himself as follows : " No fence or boundary 

 meets the eye, and the unaccustomed tourist, thinking 

 no wrong, joyfully starts to climb a hill and enjoy 

 a larger prospect, when suddenly, like the followers 

 of Roderick Dhu, a gamekeeper starts up with the 

 unwelcome information No road this way ; this hill 

 is preserved. Formerly, the unenclosed hillsides were 

 open to every comer, and no damage was done ; in 

 fact, it teas not possible to do any damage to mere 

 stone or heather. (The italics are my own.) Quite 

 right, " Spectator ; " your conclusion is logical ; and, 



