ON THE MAMMALIA OF THIS DISTEICT. 183 



mist hung over the forest like a dreary pall; the wind 

 blew gently from the south, and, as I loaded my gun 

 outside the cottage door, reminiscences of many 

 a hunting morning in the days of "auld lang syne" 

 rushed across my mind, and many an early break- 

 fast by the cheerful kitchen fire in the old house 

 at home (for the housemaid has not yet got the 

 parlour in order), and ride to covert on such a 

 morning, seemed like the visions of yesterday. It 

 was indeed a beautiful hunting morning ; but how 

 different our meet to those of the days of yore. 

 No merry chat, no jovial laugh all was silent as 

 the grave, and we looked more like a band of 

 conspirators in the grey twilight than a parcel of 

 jovial hunters. We had the elk in a gully between 

 us and the lake, in which our long line lay ; we 

 did not know how near they might be to us, and 

 the least noise might disturb them. Our only 

 chance of a shot was for the shooters to walk 

 silently through the forest for about two miles, 

 plant ourselves on a rise (over which the elk were 

 sure to come when the drivers roused them), and 

 wait quietly for the driven deer. We had four 

 guns and four drivers ; and, issuing strict orders 

 for the drivers to give us time enough, we picked 

 our way in silence through the wood, speaking 

 only in whispers, and soon reached our post. All 

 our caution, however, was not superfluous, for so 



