CHAP. XXX1V.] A PERSECUTED SHEPHERD. 267 
“Oh, but we'll give him a bonny fleg for spoiling our sport the 
night,” said Maleolm. Accordingly Donald and he concealed 
themselves in the burn, one above and the other below the point 
at which the shepherd appeared likely to cross it, while I re- 
mained hid in a hollow of the moss, a quiet spectator of their 
attack on the poor fellow’s nerves. 
The shepherd had just put his foot in the burn, when Malcolm 
shouted at the top of his voice, “ Willie Young, Willie Young,” 
this being the man’s name. He stopped short, and with a fright- 
ened look at seeing no one, was going on his way again, when 
Donald took up the chorus, “ Willie Young, Willie Young.” 
“* Wha’s you?” said the shepherd, turning towards Donald. 
“ Willie Young, Willie Young,” then shouted Malcolm, and at 
his voice the unhappy proprietor of the name wheeled round as 
ona pivot. I could not refrain from joining in the persecution, 
and Willie Young was kept for ten minutes, turning from side to 
side, on hearing his name called by his unseen tormentors, till he 
got so terribly frightened that I thought it as well to show myself, 
or I firmly believe the man would have gone mad. I never saw 
a poor fellow more relieved in my life than he was on seeing that 
his persecutors were mere flesh and blood like himself, and not 
spirits of the air or flood as he had imagined. Having laughed 
at him for his fright, and appeased his somewhat reasonable 
anger, we found out from him that this stag was constantly about 
the same place, and had got so accustomed to seeing the shepherd 
pass to and fro, that he invariably returned to the same glen within 
a few hours. 
It was getting late, so we postponed attacking him till the next 
morning. The shepherd also told us that although the stag had 
not particularly fine antlers, that he was one of the heaviest and 
largest deer that had been in that part of the country for some 
years. He knew him by his large track, and also by his colour, 
which was peculiarly light. We accompanied Willie Young 
home to his domicile; and having taken our frugal supper of 
porridge and milk, followed, however, by some whisky-and- 
water of no mean flavour and strength, which Mr. Young 
informed us in confidence had been made by some “lads down 
the glen yonder,” we retired to our sleeping-places. For my 
own part, I took up my quarters in the building dignified by the 
