80 DEER-STALKING. 



of sturdy gillies, one of them leading a strong pony with 

 a saddle on, the other at the head of another pony 

 harnessed to a very small two-wheel cart. They salute, 

 and one of them hands me a note from his master. It 

 is simply to say, " Come on as fast as you can ; my 

 mare, Maggie, knows the way, so if it gets dark throw 

 the reins on her neck, and she will bring you safely, and 

 you will be here long before the luggage-cart." As it 

 happens, this particular day the sun is setting in a mass 

 of orange-sky. As I face to my destination in the west, 

 the hills in their deep shadows look black, cold, and 

 distant ; the air is chilly, and I feel stiff after the 

 twenty-six mile drive and the long journey from London. 

 A short way a-head the pony track seems to disappear, 

 and altogether an " uncanny " feeling comes over me. 

 However, Maggie is mounted, and ofif she goes at a 

 pleasant trot, and men and cart and luggage are quickly 

 lost to view. Soon the trot becomes a walk ; there 

 are rocks, big stones, bogs and holes, but Maggie 

 steers clear of them all, and directly the going is once 

 more good, she breaks into a trot again of her own 

 accord, till by the time a couple of miles are covered I 

 place implicit faith in her good sense, and abandon all to 

 her guidance. And so one jogs along, up hill and down 

 hill, and the hoofs of the pony fall silently on the soft 

 track. On either hand a dark sea of heather, overhead 

 the stars were just beginning to show, and facing me rises 

 the jagged outline of an amphitheatre of black hills 

 against the deep crimson sky, still lit with the glow of 

 the setting sun. In about an hour I begin to wonder if 

 Maggie can have gene the wrong way, and feel half 



