168 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [CHAP, xx 



being shot two or three times, I shot him dead about fifty yards 

 before the hounds. During the run I saw two foxes start ; one 

 of them waded quietly through the swamp towards my English 

 friend, who, however, did not shoot at him, because he was afraid, 

 he said, of losing a chance at the roe ; but I rather suspect, that 

 having been bred a fox-hunter in his own country, he had a kind 

 of holy horror against killing a fox in any but the orthodox 

 manner which he had been accustomed to. 



After having opened one of the bucks and rewarded the beagles 

 with the entrails, liver, &c., we repaired to a cottage at hand, 

 where our host for the day had provided a capital luncheon. 



Frequently when passing these swamps and rugged ground, I 

 have seen roe start up from the rough heather, or feeding, knee 

 deep in the water, on the rank weeds and herbage. The best 

 part of this ground for wild-fowl is gradually getting drained, 

 and what was (a few years since) a dreary waste of marsh and 

 swamp, has now become a range of smiling corn-land. I shall 

 not easily forget my old keeper's explanation, on his first seeing 

 one of his favourite spots for stalking wild-fowl turned into an 

 oat-field. We had walked far, with little success, but he had 

 depended on our finding the ducks in a particular spot, not being 

 aware that it liad been drained since his last visit to it. Having 

 taken a long and sonorous pinch of snufF, according to his usual 

 custom when in any dilemma, he turned to me, muttering, 

 " Well, well, the whole country is spoilt with their improve- 

 ments, as they ca' them. It will no be fit fora Christian man to 

 live in much longer." He thought that oats and wheat were a 

 bad exchange for his favourite ducks and geese. 



