80 FARLEY, 1919 



disappeared over the edge of the rock, but it did 

 not signify, as the snow was so thick you could 

 not see 5 yards away, and then my hands got so 

 cold I should not have been able to pull the 

 trigger had we waited any longer ; so I determined 

 to crawl in on them, and hope for a shot at the big 

 fellow, who was still lying down in spite of the 

 storm. All the time the small one, of course, was 

 in sight, and I was sorely tempted to be contented 

 with him, but Stone was very keen on the better 

 beast, and so we proceeded to crawl on, and 

 wriggled ourselves round some rather awkward 

 places, and I suppose got too saucy, for they either 

 heard us or got our wind, and up went the head 

 of the small brute and off they went without 

 giving us the shadow of a chance; and so we 

 sorrowfully turned our frozen toes homewards, 

 with heavy hearts and almost frost-bitten fingers 

 and hope almost dead of ever getting another 

 stag. However, the glad day dawned at long last, 

 the 30th of September. Stone told me there was 

 a shootable beast with some hinds and a small 

 stag or two on the flats above the Lily Loch. 

 They were in full view of the ordinary path up 

 from the west end of the wood, so we had to go 

 up by a road we had never been up before, straight 

 up to the enclosed bit at the back of Jimmy 

 Johnston's house, and then creep along under the 

 bank into the wood, and so across the corner of the 

 wood and the valley beyond between the wood and 



