104 DEER-STALKING. 



and as the report of the rifle rings through the hills his 

 troubles are over, and he lies prone upou the peat. It 

 is a fine fat stag of nine points. John did the needful 

 as quickly as possible, for it was already getting dusk ; 

 and taking a small nip of whiskey each, we start off best 

 pace to reach the ponies, which are quite ten miles away. 

 Luckily it is not very dark, and we get along well side 

 by side, grievously scaring sundry ptarmigan ; and as 

 John is a pleasant and well-informed companion, and 

 can talk on most subjects, we are speedily chatting in 

 strong language about Mr. Bryce's Access to Mountains 

 Bill, and speculating whether the Rads will ever pass it. 



Then comes a break-neck descent, and we find our- 

 selves at John's cottage, and at the gate stands my pony 

 ready saddled. Wishing him a hearty good night, and 

 highly delighted with a splendid day's sport, I trot off 

 along the loch side, and a quarter to ten sees me tubbed 

 and dressed in the dining-room. The ladies have left, 

 and cigars are going, while I eat my dinner and hear my 

 host's adventures. He also has done well, getting two 

 stalks, and killing a good stag each time, he was com- 

 fortably home by half-past seven. 



Our third rifle, who had started before us in the 

 morning, in a totally different direction, now joined in 

 and told me his adventures : he also had had two shots 

 and bagged one nice stag, and in addition had met 

 with a very curious incident. After he had killed his 

 stag, the forester with him had asked, as a favour, 

 that he would go about a quarter of a mile out of his 

 way to enable him to visit a fox-trap he had set some 

 ten days before. It was baited with part of the gralloch 



