THE PASS. 41 



the pass, resolved to watch for a time at least. 

 Evening was drawing on apace, and if they came at 

 all they would come soon. The wind now gradually 

 increased in violence, so that when we occasionally 

 stepped from the shelter of the rock, and exposed 

 ourselves to its force, we found it almost more than we 

 could do to stand against it. This, however, we 

 reasonably regarded as in our favour, for we were quite 

 sure that no deer could wind us with that breeze in 

 our teeth. For near an hour we remained in this 

 position, Walter brooding over his pipe, and snugly 

 enveloped in his plaid, while I kept constantly casting 

 an eye down the brae, until my aching sight forced me 

 to desist. At length it began to grow dark, and we to 

 despair ; but, while peering down into the dim shades 

 of the glen below, I fancied I saw something move. I 

 looked again, and again I thought it must be so. I 

 called Walter, who suggested something about another 

 fox. But in spite of his doubts, he too came to look, 

 and confirmed my hopes, there certainly was a moving 

 object, and what was more, moving towards us ; but, 

 though behind us, the sun was still above the horizon, 

 the shade cast over the glen by the mountain to our 

 right was too deep to be pierced, and our patience had 

 yet to be tried a little longer. 



Presently, however, to our delight, we distinctly saw 

 a deer. We scarcely dared to trust our sight; but 

 there it undeniably was, and, as it slowly mounted the 

 brae, we made out, one by one, seven-and-twenty 

 others, following in the wake of their leader, a sight 

 which effectually restored our flagging spirits. 



Our position was a most admirable one. The whole 

 width of the pass was not more than 200 yards, and 

 the rock behind which we were stationed rose up in 

 the very centre of the narrowest part, commanding a 



