10 FARLEY, 1915 



through. After lunch we made for the West Hill, 

 and were half round it when Davie suddenly 

 dropped, and out came the glass, and sure enough, 

 about 200 yards ahead were two horns sticking 

 out above a rock. We made a short detour, and 

 crawled to about 100 yards, when we saw a 

 shootable beast lying down behind a rock sheltering 

 from the rain. Susan was a few yards behind us, 

 and we beckoned her to crawl up beside us, and I 

 suppose the noise of her Burberry through the wet 

 heather reached our friend, for he jumped up and 

 presented a nice easy shot. No mistake was made 

 at him, but immediately on the shot another stag 

 jumped up, which had been invisible, and stood for 

 a second or two ; and I ought to have got him too, 

 but I was so taken by surprise and a little slow 

 in ejecting the cartridge (my rifle is a Mannlicher 

 Schonauer) that I missed him; he was just moving 

 as I fired, and was off like a flash. However, we 

 were quite pleased with our trophy, though it 

 was a poor head and only weighed 13 stone 

 4 pounds; and in due course Sandy and the pony 

 arrived (we were nearly on the top of the West 

 Hill), and we were back at the car with our stag 

 by 5.30, soaked to the skin, but with a grin on the 

 face of the Tiger and the Tigress. 



The 23rd of September was the next eventful day 

 when I was out alone with Davie (Susan having 

 gone into Inverness to see her sister Nortie off), 

 and Jimmy Johnston as extra ghillie. We found 



