46 CHAPTER VII. 



Long, long ago I learned that the sportsman who puts the bag 

 first is very poorly served by fortune in sports afield. To me, I 

 mused, the creatures I pursue and their capture are incidental to my 

 pleasure. I gather my joy from the contact with Nature. 



I reap the rarest pleasure from admission to kinship with the great 

 forces of Life, which the high, and the wild, and the rugged outdoor 

 places always bring to the man who has enough of the primitive 

 human in him to be sometimes natural. So in love with myself and 

 my surroundings I continued on, through the peaceful evening scenes 

 by which my way lay. 



Shortly I heard the hum of a motor in the distance, and soon around 

 a curve into sight slipped the car of the Chief. In a twinkling the 

 swift-moving vehicle was abreast of me and stopped. From it descended 

 to shake my hand in greeting, a second guest, the Captain, who came 

 to stalk for two or three days. I declined the offer of a lift and 

 strolled back by the way I had come. 



The scene had a rare beauty all its own. On my left the Loch, 

 painted black with the shades of evening; on my right, undulating 

 grass-covered hills, rising somberly to blend with the night sky. The 

 finely graveled road beneath my feet gave my eyes freedom to linger 

 on the saw-toothed ridges and high, curious carven mountains which 

 rose dimly as to bases, and clearly as to crests in my far front. 



A little island in mid-loch with feathery branches of small trees 

 showing, looked not larger than a parlor rug, and yet seemed great 

 enough to hold a multitude of eerie night spirits, hungering for the 

 moment of their release, to be gone upon friendly, harmless night 

 revels. 



The way ran around the long folds of the hill in graceful curves 

 until, uncovered by the last, the twinkling lights of the Lodge danced 

 into view, and down the glen was wafted the pungent taint of peat 

 smoke, evermore to be coupled in my mind with the day's end, and 

 rest well earned. 



Up the now familiar path traveled on the first day, I tramped in 

 high spirits behind Donald, on this the fifth day of my stalk, the 

 tramping and the climbing of the week before, followed by a day of 

 perfect rest, gave what could be expected, a freshness, a vim, a zest, a 

 hunger for the hills, an appetite for exercise and a keenness to kill. 



