138 DATS OF DEER-STALKING. 



will not sing your coronach at an earlier age. It is a cus- 

 tom, I believe, which all the old foresters have observed. 

 I was near hearing poor gallant Macintyre sing his : you 

 may remember when he was lying ill at Forest Lodge, and 

 I had my quarters there, how, in the midst of his fever, he 

 would rave about the deer ; how his spirit was ever on the 

 hills, whilst his body was lying on a sick bed ; how wildly 

 he talked of Ben-y-gloe, Craig-chrochie, Glen Croinie, and 

 all the glens and mountains that had so often echoed to the 

 crack of his rifle ; you may bear in mind how near he then 

 was to the grave of his fathers. It chanced I did him some 

 little common act of kindness, such as no one but an honest- 

 hearted Highlander would have thought about for a moment. 

 He wished, he said, he might get well, that he might have 

 the pleasure of taking me into the deer how fine he would 

 do it ! These were the last words I ever heard from his 

 mouth, and surely they were kind ones. Poor fellow! on 

 that day I sent him down to Blair, in an easy carriage, to 

 be nearer the doctor: he lived but a short space afterwards. 

 Long before this, however, he was aware that his life was 

 ebbing ; for when Mr. Landseer painted his portrait, he 

 looked at it sorrowfully, and said, 'An' if that's like Macin- 

 tyre, he's no long for this world.' Too truly did he pro- 

 phesy, peace be with him. 



" And now we will see if we can kill a hart in honour of 

 his memory ; and we will pour over the best libations of 

 right Loch Rannoch, the fumes whereof will be grateful to 

 his shade.'' 



Peter Fraser (touching his capj, "That would be shamefu' 

 waste, yer honour ; Macintyre himsel' aye poured it intill 

 bis weem, and I'm thinking his ghaist would like to see us 

 pit it in the same gait, and not gie it to a dead beastie, who 

 will no ken whether it be Lowland stuff or richt Loch Ran- 

 noch." ( Then laying his arm upon Tortoise), " Hist, hist, 

 sir ; some fashious body has disturbit the moor. Look to 

 yon deer; they are coming ower from the east by the green 

 knowes, and ganging on slowly to Crag Urrard. What shall 

 we do? We maun lie doun on the heather, for we are lockit 

 in, and canna win forrat a fut the noo. The banks of the 

 Banavie are steep, and the pass to Crag Urrard is narrow ; 



