SEPTEMBER 215 



British wild animals the red deer. No doubt most 

 of the ground in view was once forest in the sense of 

 woodland. The whole of the soil far up the hillsides 

 is full of sylvan wreckage roots, stems, and boughs, 

 chiefly of Scots pine (for we are too high here for oak), 

 lying continuously for many, many miles as they fell ; 

 not rotting, because of the antiseptic properties of peat, 

 still full of resin, and affording excellent fuel. Why 

 did they die ? or, rather, why did these trees leave no 

 posterity ? It is one of the most obscure problems of 

 natural history, this disappearance of the Highland 

 forest, and it would take too long even to recapitulate 

 the theories started to account for it. The one, the 

 only, thing that is clear is the result namely, that of 

 the dark evergreen mantle that once wrapped the great 

 Moor of Rannoch and surrounding mountains not a rag 

 remains, except in the wood of Ball ; everywhere else 

 the Scots pine is as completely extinct as the bears, 

 wolves, and Caledonian white cattle which once har- 

 boured in the pristine woods. 



It has cost me some pains to attain my present 

 exalted point of view literally, pains physical suffer- 

 ing such as those who must confess, not to old age 

 perish the ugly thought ? but, let us say, to approach- 

 ing maturity such as those, in short, who have turned 

 their half-hundred must encounter when they leave the 

 streets and high roads (ay, and the luncheons and 

 dinners) of civilisation and take to the wilderness. 

 The couple of thousand feet or so which we have 

 ascended since, some six hours ago, I left my pony 



