176 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [cHaP. xxI. 
I was resting here, having met my gillie, and was consoling 
nyself for my want of success by smoking a cigar, when, at the 
same moment, a kind of shadow came across me, and the pointers 
who were coupled at my feet pricked up their ears and growled, 
with their eyes fixed on some object behind me. My keeper, 
who had been out with me all day, was stretched on his back, 
in a half slumber, and the gillie was kneeling down taking a long 
draught at the cool well, with the enjoyment of one who had had 
a long toiling walk ona hot August day. Turning my head lazily 
to see what had roused the dogs, and had cast its shadow across me, 
instead of a shepherd, as I expected—could I believe my eyes !— 
there stood a magnificent stag, with the fine shaped horns 
peculiar to those of the Sutherland forests. He was standing 
on the bank immediately behind me, and not above fifty yards 
off, looking with astonishment at the group before him, who 
had taken possession of the very spot where he had intended to 
slake his thirst. The deer seemed too much astonished to move, 
and for a moment I was in the same dilemma. The rifle was on 
the ground just behind the slumbering Donald. I was afraid 
the deer would be off out of sight, if I got up to take it, or if 
I called loud enough to awake Donald. So I was driven to 
the necessity of giving him a pretty severe kick, which had the 
effect of making him turn on his side, and open his eyes with 
a grunt. ‘The rifle, Donald, the rifle,’ I whispered, holding 
out my hand. Scarcely knowing what he was at, he instinc- 
tively stretched out his hand to feel for it, and held it out to 
me. All this takes some time to describe, but did not occupy 
a quarter of a minute. At the same instant that I got the rifle, 
the gillie lifted up his head from the water, and half turning, 
saw the stag, and also saw that I was about to shoot at him. 
With a presence of mind worthy of being better seconded, he 
did not raise himself from his knees, but remained motionless 
with his eyes fixed on the deer. As I said before, I had never 
killed a deer, and my hand shook, and my heart beat. I fired 
however with, as I thought, a good aim at his shoulder. The 
deer at the instant turned round. After firing my shot, we all 
(including Donald, who by this time comprehended what was 
going on) ran to the top of the bank to see what had happened, 
as the deer disappeared the instant I fired. I had, I believe, 
