THE SOUND OF MULL. 467 



may be bagged before beginning or after finishing a regular 

 day's range in open ground. You require a knowing dog, 

 such as would make capital work against wind by footing the 

 birds. I have had dogs so thoroughly up to it, as to make a 

 steady point from the foot of the birds, then circle round for 

 the wind, and thus place the game between themselves and 

 me. A fair shot is the probable result of these clever tactics. 



In Mull, these rugged black-game copses are chosen retreats 

 of the deer, which scarcely ever dare show themselves on the 

 open hills ; consequently the deer-sport is confined to wood- 

 driving. Every strip of any size has its own complement, 

 more or less, according to circumstances. They shift from 

 covert to covert, of course, with high winds ; so that a wood 

 which contained scarcely any one day, may be found to harbour 

 twenty the next, from a change of weather. The first year I 

 shot there, an old hind and her calf never left my largest covert. 

 She was not disturbed ; and next year, though another calf 

 was added, the former one remained with her also. I could 

 have found the three quite easily any day the whole year 

 round. I noticed a still more rare instance of family affection 

 among my flock of sheep in Aberdeenshire. One of the ewes 

 had a jet-black lamb, which was reared on account of its 

 beauty. Next season this lamb had another just like itself; 

 but the grandmother, having none, seemed fonder of the little 

 one than even its own mother, and the three never separated 

 from each other, but kept apart from all the rest of the flock. 



As deer in the more open woods keep far ahead of the 

 beaters, there is generally little difficulty in sending them 

 through one or other of the numerous passes. The day before 

 leaving Mull in October, although I got no chance of a shot, 

 and was early stopped by heavy rain, we had as pretty a 

 wood-drive as the island could show. My muster of twelve 

 beaters under the old weaver were in full march for Garmony 

 wood by nine o'clock. " Shamish Weaver " boasts that for 

 thirty years he has never been absent from a Scalastal hunt, 



