ON THE HIGHLAND LOCHS. 217 



I mean, being a likeness of the best I ever saw. He 

 never gives a whimper, if ever so keen, and obeys every 

 signal I make with the hand. He will watch my motions 

 at a distance, when crawling after wild-fowl, ready to 

 start forward the moment I have fired; and in no one 

 instance has he spoiled my shot. I may mention a proof 

 of his sagacity. Having a couple of long shots across a 

 pretty broad stream, I stopped a mallard with each barrel, 

 but both were only wounded: I sent him across for the 

 birds. He first attempted to bring them both, but one 

 always struggled out of his mouth : he then laid down one, 

 intending to bring the other ; but whenever he attempted 

 to cross to me, the bird left fluttered into the water ; he 

 immediately returned again, laid down the first on the 

 shore, and recovered the other. The first now fluttered 



from a rising ground, we saw that the flock were resting some hundred 

 yards from the land, but had little doubt, from the high wind, that they 

 would soon seek its shelter. We accordingly chose different stations, and, 

 crawling to them with the utmost caution, waited patiently for upwards of 

 an hour. At last the swans, by imperceptible degrees, and much turning 

 and wheeling, neared the shore, opposite my brother ; but the water being 

 shallow, they began to feed, as soon as their long necks could sound the 

 bottom. He was thus forced to rush down to the edge, and take the 

 distant shot. One lay badly wounded : had the wind been blowing 

 towards the shore, the swan was so disabled that it could not have made 

 head against it ; but as it blew sideways, the creature managed to paddle 

 itself out into the waves, every now and then uttering its wild piping cry. 

 There was no boat nearer than a mile ; we, however, set off at full speed, 

 and, with a shock-headed urchin at the helm, launched into the deep. 

 The wind was blowing a perfect gale, the waves lashing over, wetting us 

 to the skin ; and every time we changed our course, we were in danger of 

 being swamped. We had almost given up hope, especially as the white 

 foam of the bursting waves was so exactly like the object of our search as 



