CHAP, xxxii.] BELLOWING OF STAGS. 247 



end. All that followed was a harmless snap : the deer heard it, 

 and starting from their food rushed together in a confused heap 

 as if to give Donald a fair chance at the entire flock, a kind of 

 shot he rather rejoiced in. Before I could get a dry cap on my 

 gun, snap, snap, went both his barrels ; and when I looked up, 

 it was but to see the whole herd quietly trotting up the hill, out 

 of shot, but apparently not very much frightened, as they had 

 not seen us, or found out exactly where the sound came from. 

 " We are just twa fules, begging your honour's pardon, and only 

 fit to weave hose by the ingle," said Donald. I could not con- 

 tradict him. The mischief was done ; so we had nothing for it 

 but to wipe out our guns as well as we could and proceed on our 

 wandering. We followed the probable line of the deer's march, 

 and before night saw them in a distant valley feeding again 

 quite unconcernedly. 



" Hark ! what is that ?" said I, as a hollow roar like an angry 

 bull was heard not far from us. " Kep down, kep down," said 

 Donald, suiting the action to the word, and pressing me down 

 with his hand ; " it 's just a big staig." All the hinds looked up, 

 and, following the direction of their heads, we saw an immense 

 hart coming over the brow of the hill three hundred yards from 

 us. He might easily have seen us, but seemed too intent on the 

 hinds to think of anything else. On tiie height of the hill he 

 halted, and stretching out his neck and lowering his head, bel- 

 lowod again. He then rushed down the hill like a mad beast : 

 when half way down he was answered from a distance by another 

 stag. He instantly halted, and looking in that direction roared 

 repeatedly, while we could see in the evening air, which had 

 become cold and frosty, his breath coming out of his nostrils 

 like smoke. Presently he was answered by another and another 

 stag, and the whole distance seemed alive with them. A more 

 unearthly noise I never heard, as it echoed and re-echoed through 

 the rocky glens that surrounded us. 



The setting sun threw a strong light on the first comer, cast- 

 ing a kind of yellow glare on his horns and head, while hi* body 

 was in deep shade, giving him a most singular appearance, par- 

 ticularly when combined with his hoarse and strange bellowing. 

 As the evening closed in, their cries became almost incessant, 



