CHAPTER XXIII 



THE year following our Orkney adventure I again went 

 North, but this time took up my abode on the Scottish 

 side of the Pentland Firth namely, at Ribigill, situated on 

 the Kyles of Tongue, in Sutherlandshire. In addition to the 

 party which was with me on the isles were Bizzy Robinson 

 and Kate, his wife, as well as my two elder sons, Raymond 

 and Denis, who were then aged respectively ten and seven 

 years. 



I had been attracted to this pitch by the prospect of mixed 

 sport, which included grouse, black game, duck and roe- 

 deer, together with brown trout in various lochs, an occa- 

 sional salmon in one of them, and sea-trout and sea-fishing 

 in the Kyles. 



Later on, we were again favoured with the company of his 

 Lordship of Sodor and Man. 



This breezy spot took some getting at. The postal address 

 was " By " Lairg. I do not know what is meant by the 

 word " By," but, as a matter of fact, we had a lugubrious ride 

 of forty miles from Lairg station in the usual ramshackle 

 " ma-chine " before reaching the haven of rest. Our quarters 

 were more primitive than some which I have enjoyed in other 

 sporting localities, but we managed to rub along in fair 

 comfort. 



I was particularly keen on entering my eldest hopeful to 

 the sport of shooting. By way of affording him practice, I had 

 brought along with me a clay pigeon trap, and after a bit, he 

 began to break a fair percentage of the discs, so that when 

 the long-looked-for I2th of August arrived, I figured that he 

 would be able to ground a grouse or two, given a fair chance ; 

 and, indeed, so it turned out. Although he was quivering 



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