IN A DEER-FOREST 229 



birch, rowan, and alder along a couple of miles of 

 steep hillside. It was a divine morning the slant- 

 ing rays lit up the golden spray of the birches and 

 the intense crimson of the rowan leaves, and through 

 these gleamed the pale azure of the lake. Grouse- 

 cocks crowed crousely beside the track; the early 

 mists wreathed themselves fantastically around Beinn- 

 na-Lap; it was all so lovely that I could not but 

 loiter, and the old pony picked his way as he pleased 

 along the rough path. But my reverie was roughly 

 broken by a violent shy on the part of the usually 

 sedate animal. He might well be surprised. Lying 

 beside the path, under the steep bank, was a tramp 

 in a drunken sleep. Not considering myself under 

 any obligation to disturb him, I gathered up my 

 reins and passed on, as heartlessly as any Levite, 

 speculating how the Devil had managed to put 

 whisky in this poor waif's way in that wilderness, 

 the nearest public-house being at Kannoch station, 

 fully ten rough miles away. Somehow that tramp 

 dwelt a good deal in my thoughts. He had a pecu- 

 liarly long nose of intense fiery red ; he was pretty 

 comfortably dressed, and there was the painful 

 contrast between his unlovely condition and the 

 pure morning scenery. Moreover, I noticed as I 



