prised when Finlayson said, "Take him now." 

 However, I did so and missed just over him, Fin- 

 layson said. They all bunched together, but 

 luckily the stag stood quite clear, and in a second 

 or two I fired again and got him bang through the 

 heart, and Finlayson exclaimed, " Splendid shot !" 

 So my day was happy. He was only a wee 

 staggie of 12 stone, and nothing of a head and 

 not quite clean of the velvet, but still he was 

 something after our two disappointments and, 

 anyway, venison in the larder and very good 

 venison, too. Finlayson and Stone then proceeded 

 to drag him down to the path, a mere matter of 

 about 1,500 feet, as seemingly in this forest the 

 ponies never leave the paths. However, they 

 were down almost as soon as we were, and then 

 Finlayson discovered he had left my rifle where 

 the stag had been killed ! So there was nothing 

 for it but for him to toil up again and fetch it, so he 

 was not likely to forget my first stag on Benula. 

 The ponies were three miles down the path, so 

 Susan, Stone, and I went on so as to send one of 

 them back for the stag, and as it was getting late 

 and we were five miles from the lodge there was 

 not much time to spare. Susan and I were very 

 tired by the time we met the ponies, and very glad 

 of the lift for the last two miles, and still more 

 glad for the tea when we reached the lodge at 

 quarter to 8. It was a lovely evening and alto- 

 gether a never-to-be-forgotten day, as the views 



