1 1 6 Ring Ouzels ^ Water Ouzels 



darted up the burn from pool to pool until they have 

 reached this cul de sac. 



Further down is the meeting of the waters — 

 Gobernuisgach — where, on a grassy plateau amongst 

 the hills, the smoke curls up from the chimneys of 

 the shooting-lodge. 



With the clamouring notes of the startled ouzel, 

 you wend your way home — happy, because behind you 

 comes the pony, feeling his way carefully over the 

 rough path with its rolling stones and pebbles, bur- 

 dened as he is with the dead weight of your eighteen- 

 stone stag, now no longer the monarch of the glen. 



And as you look proudly back to count his points 

 once more, you stop before you clamber down to an- 

 nounce the death of a " Royal." 



Filled with exultation as you are, you still recall 

 the sadness of his fall, when, sinking amongst the 

 heather, the splendid beast seemed with glazing sight 

 to look wistfully after the departing herd as they dis- 

 appeared over the brow of the hill. Above your head 

 soars a golden eagle, scenting the blood maybe. 



And so you trudge home, wet and footsore — leaving 

 the ouzel to pipe and flute where the red stag fell 

 down — to your well-earned dinner and your rest. 



So the night falls, ushering in the frolics of otters 

 amongst the salmon in the burn, and the prowlings of 

 wild cats from their lairs in the rocks. 



And the northern lights dart upwards in the sky. 



* « * # * 



As a cage bird a ring ouzel is desirable, for if 



