154 DEER-STALKING 



have had) some extraordinarily ' wise ' collies, and I 

 cannot here refrain from giving one instance of the 

 sagacity of a small yellow bitch called Lassie, whose 

 progeny I am glad to say are still flourishing in 

 the glen, though none of them have as yet equalled 

 the fame of their ancestress. 



I was out at the far-off end of the forest, and, 



getting a shot at a stag almost in the gloaming, 



wounded it in the forearm. The deer had not seen 



me, and as only one shot had been fired and it was 



nearly dusk, they were not much alarmed. They ran 



straight down the hill about 150 yards, crossed the 



burn, ran about the same distance up the other side, 



and then stopped, turned round and stared back at 



us. The distance across was quite short, the banks 



of the burn being steep, and we were just able to 



distinguish the wounded deer, having observed him 



limping behind the others before they came to a 



standstill. What were we to do ? It was impossible to 



move the deer would have picked us up at once 



and been off. There was no time to follow them, and 



there was a dense fir wood with high heather only 



half a mile away. ' Shall I slip Lassie ? ' said the 



stalker. ' Surely not at a herd of deer ! ' I exclaimed ; 



' she will probably go after a calf or something and 



disturb the whole forest.' ' Well, as you think right,' 



