CHAP, xxvi.] THE MUCKLE HART OF BENMORfc 207 



to me, when presently I heard her wings brush close over my 

 head ; and then she went wheeling round and round above the 

 dead bird, and turning her head downwards to make out what 

 had happened. At times she stooped so low that I could see the 

 sparkle of her eye and hear her low complaining cry. I watched 

 the time when she turned up her wing towards me, and fired, 

 and dropped her actually on the body of the other. I now 

 rushed out. The last bird immediately rose to her feet, and 

 stood gazing at me with a reproachful, half-threatening look. 

 She would have done battle, but death was busy with her ; and, 

 as I was loading in haste, she reeled and fell perfectly dead. 

 Eager as I had been to do the deed, I could not look on the 

 royal birds without a pang. But such regrets were now too late. 

 Passing over the shepherd's rejoicing, and my incredible break- 

 fast, I must return to our great adventure. Our line of march 

 to-day was over ground so high that we came repeatedly into the 

 midst of ptarmigan. On the very summit, Bran had a rencontre 

 with an old mountain fox, toothless, yet very fat, whom he made 

 to bite the dust. We struck at one place the tracks of the three 

 deer, but of the animals themselves we saw nothing. We kept 

 exploring corrie after corrie till night fell ; and as it was in vain 

 to think of returning to the shealing, which yet was the nearest 

 roof, we were content to find a sort of niche in the rock, tolerably 

 screened from all winds ; and having almost filled it with long 

 heather, flower upwards, we wrapped our plaids round us, and 

 slept pretty comfortably. 



Thursday. A dip in the burn below our bivouac renovated 

 me. I did not observe that Donald followed my example in 

 that ; but he joined me in a hearty attack on the viands which 

 *till remained in our bag ; and we started with renewed courage. 

 About mid-day we came on a shealing beside a long narrow 

 loch, fringed with beautiful weeping-birches, and there we 

 found means to cook some grouse which I had shot to supply 

 our exhausted larder. The shepherd, who had " no iSassenach," 

 cheered us by his report of "the deer" being lately seen, and 

 describing his usual haunts. Donald was plainly getting dis- 

 gusted and home-sick. For myself, I looked upon it as my fate 

 that I must have that hart ; so on we trudged. Repeatedly, 

 that afternoon, we came on the fresh tracks of our chace, but 



