WILD-FOWL SHOOTING ON THE HIGHLAND LOCHS. 149 



of course, I would sacrifice my chance at other fowl), I never 

 use any shot larger than No. 4, as a fair chance at a small 

 bird like a teal might be missed with larger ; and a man 

 should not go alarming the whole shore, firing random shots 

 at flocks of fowl nearly out of reach on the water. 



Next in importance to the gun is a proper retriever. 1 The 



though I looked for them in all their most likely haunts. During the severe 

 winter of 1837-38, not one wild goose of any description was seen, although there 

 were numbers of the common wild swan, and a few of the black species, one of 

 which was shot : so much for the uncertain movements of wild-fowl. All the 

 finest birds are to be found in the largest flocks of wild-fowl : the smaller birds, 

 being driven away, make little flocks of their own. 



1 My first attempts at shooting were in pursuit of wild-fowl when quite a boy, 

 and I still consider it superior to any other sport. In these early days, however, 

 I had no idea to what perfection a retriever might be trained ; if the dog took 

 the water well, and was close-mouthed, I expected no more. As I was always 

 obliged to lead him by my side, he often spoiled my best chances, either by 

 showing himself, or hampering me when crawling over difficult ground. I was 

 at last so disgusted with these encumbrances that I generally dispensed with 

 their services, and trusted to my own resources for recovering the killed and 

 wounded. The consequence was, that the greater proportion of the latter always 

 escaped, and unless the wind was favourable, not a few of the former were drifted 

 away. On one occasion I was foolish enough to swim one hundred yards into the 

 loch, in the middle of winter, after a golden -eye, and had some difficulty in re- 

 gaining the land. I had watched it for some time, and at last succeeded in 

 getting to the nearest point on the shore. The golden-eye, however, was diving 

 a long shot off, as these shy birds not unfrequently do : without once considering 

 that the wind was blowing strong from the shore, I fired and the bird dropped 

 dead. To my great chagrin, it was blown rapidly out into the rough water. 

 What was to be done ? Had it been able to make the slightest effort to escape, 

 I could have allowed it ; but there it lay, still as a stone. So, throwing off my 

 shooting- jacket and shoes, I plunged in, waded up to the neck, and struck out 

 for my prey. By the time I reached the bird, it had floated fully a hundred 

 yards ; but getting its leg between my teeth, I wheeled about for the land. My 

 difficulties now began, for the waves were very high, and dashed right into my 

 face. Several times, during my slow progress, I determined to leave the golden- 

 eye to its fate, and as often braced myself up again, unwilling to have so cold a 

 bath for nothing. At last I neared the shore, got into calm water, and, after 

 sounding once or twice, struck ground, and reached terra firma with my prize, 

 the leg of which I had nearly bitten through during my exertions. It was an 

 intensely cold day about the end of December, with frequent snow-showers ; and 

 had the golden-eye not been the most valued of the diving race, I should never 

 have made such a fool of myself. I arrived at home quite benumbed, determin- 

 ing no more to act the part of a retriever. 



Another stormy mid-winter day, a farmer sent to let us know that a flock of 

 wild swans had appeared off the shore. My brother and I instantly started with 

 our duck-guns. When we had reconnoitred with glasses from a rising ground, we 



