THE FOX-HUNTER'S LIFE. 131 



should be spent chiefly in the open air, by the loch or 

 the mountain, sometimes for days together with no 

 roof above his head, save the vaulted sky, and with no 

 companionship but that of his faithful dogs. 



At one time, it may be, he is laying siege to the den 

 of some vixen, and patiently watching for the appear- 

 ance of the mother and her cubs. There he sits for 

 one, two, or even, as he himself assured me, three days 

 without sleep, and with no nourishment beyond that 

 afforded by the juniper-berries which grow close at 

 hand, and the small flask of whisky in his " sporran ; " 

 and soothed by that " little tube of mighty power," 

 " rest to the weary, to the hungry food," his pipe ; 

 until, eventually overcome by the pangs of hunger, one 

 by one the animals are forced to capitulate, and 

 emerging from their retreat, far down in the cleft of 

 some rock, fall victims to his unerring aim. On such 

 occasions he is frequently accompanied by another man, 

 and then the two relieve each other, watching and 

 resting by turns, by which plan the fatigue is very 

 much lessened. Gillespie however assured us that he 

 far preferred having all the fatigue to himself; for that 

 if he took his turn of repose, he could never rest, from 

 his anxiety lest the other party, less interested than 

 himself, should slumber at his post, and so suffer the 

 game to escape. Indeed, he remembered on one 

 occasion having a wild Irishman to assist him, who 

 having slept the greater part of the first two days, then 

 agreed to take his turn at watching ; but scarcely had 

 Gillespie rolled himself in his plaid, when he was 

 aroused by the report of a gun close by, and springing 

 to his feet, saw to his dismay the whole family of foxes 

 scampering across the moor, and his companion gazing 

 after them in mute amazement. The stupid fellow had 

 gone off to quench his thirst at the burn hard by, and 



