42 THE MOOR AND THE LOCH. 



ment among any of the numerous sheep feeding all round 

 might instantly put them on their guard. 



Peter Eobertson, of the " Black Mount," had kindly lent us 

 a very good lurcher for bringing wounded deer to bay, yclept 

 Friday, whose black coat was another source of anxiety. 

 Sending the man forward with a telescope, we squatted down 

 with the lurcher behind a bank, determined to wait patiently 

 till our spy was thoroughly satisfied. In about half an hour 

 he returned, his radiant visage, even before he spoke, showing 

 all was right. The harts, he told us, were resting on a height 

 some way off, but by humouring the ground I soon got a 

 capital view of them. They might be approached from below 

 or from above, but I always like the high stalk best, as deer 

 are so much less apt to look up than down hill. In this 

 instance the watcher was clearly for the low approach, as he 

 feared our deer-hound might scare the sheep, scattered thickly 

 over the heights. Notwithstanding, I decided to risk it, and 

 by stalking the sheep and screening the dog among us, we at 

 last got safely beyond them. The harts were now close at 

 hand ; so leaving the watcher with Friday on the leash, we 

 were soon at the back of the knoll, where we had seen them 

 lying. I directed my son to keep about eighty yards above 

 me, lest they might have risen, and separated, but not to 

 show himself until I had fired. 



On looking through a tuft of heather, I saw the deer on 

 their legs fine side chances the largest about 50, and the 

 other fully 100 yards off. I fired a double shot ; and my son 

 called down, " You've done for them both." The near one ran 

 a short way and fell dead, but the other, dropping on its knees, 

 rolled over the opposite side of the height, on the crest of 

 which it was standing, and limped down the hill until close to 

 my son, where it halted, staring at him within pistol-range. 

 At this moment a third hart galloped across the face of the 

 corrie, which I mistook for the wounded one, and called to the 

 watcher to slip the dog. There was a beautiful course, Friday 



