CHAP, xxn SHEPHERDS' HUT 



over a flat though elevated range of dreary moor, more interest- 

 ing to the eye of a grouse-shooter than to any one else. When 

 within a few miles of the end of our journey, the Findhorn came 

 in sight, passing like a silver stripe, edged with bright green, 

 through the brown mountains, and sparkling brightly in the 

 evening sun. The sides of the hills immediately overhanging 

 the river are clothed with patches of weeping-birch and juniper, 

 with here and there a black hut perched on a green knoll, dotted 

 with groves of the rugged and ancient -looking birch -trees. 

 About these solitary abodes, too, were small patches of oats 

 and potatoes. The mavis with its joyous note, and the black- 

 bird's occasional full and rich song, greeted us as we passed 

 through these wooded tracts. Sometimes a wood-pigeon would 

 crash through the branches close to us as we wound round some 

 corner of the wood. 



Having arrived at our destination, we made ourselves as 

 comfortable as we could, and retired to reist. 



In the morning we started in different directions. I, accom- 

 panied by a shepherd, went westward towards the sources of 

 the river. I cannot say that I had much hope of finding deer, 

 as the whole line of my march was full of sheep ; and red-deer 

 will very seldom remain quiet when this is the case, either from 

 a dislike to the sheep themselves, or from knowing that where 

 there are sheep there are also shepherds and shepherds' dogs. 

 With black cattle, on the contrary, deer live in tolerable amity ; 

 and I have frequently seen cattle and deer feeding together in 

 the same glen. 



I went some miles westward, keeping up the course of the 

 river, or rather parallel to it, sometimes along its very edge, 

 and at other times at some distance from the water. The 

 highest building on the river, if building it can be termed, is a 

 small shealing, or summer residence of the shepherds, called, I 

 believe, Dahlvaik. Seeing some smoke coming from this hut, 

 we went to it. When at some few hundred yards off, we were 

 greeted with a most noisy salute from some half-dozen sheep- 

 dogs, who seemed bent on eating up my bloodhound. But 

 having tried her patience to the uttermost, till she rolled over 

 two or three of them rather roughly (not condescending, how- 

 ever, to use her teeth), the colleys retreated to the door of the 

 shealing, where they redoubled, if possible, their noise, keeping 



