ON THE MOORS. 147 



a Deer Forest in one. He was not to kill " more 

 than fifteen hundred Grouse or twenty Stags." 

 That stipulation I myself saw, and the agree- 

 ment was solemnly signed and sealed. Ronald 

 had come to report progress as to the past 

 breeding season. They adjourned to the gun- 

 room, leaving a strong scent of punch all along 

 the line. As my husband could not speak 

 a word of Gaelic, and Ronald knew but little 

 of English, I suppose the report received was 

 satisfactory. Our little Jack, who had dared 

 to invade the gun-room, told us afterwards 

 that they did " like this " — and he simply 

 waved his arms about and made faces. At dusk 

 the gillie went awa} r . 



Next morning was the Twelfth, and we were 

 up betimes. Although none of us had ever 

 seen the sun rise, we all saw it then. It came 

 from behind the hills, and spread an exquisite 

 rosy flush over the landscape. The white mists 

 rolled up and over the mountains, and some 

 strange sounds which we heard, Ronald said 

 were the black-cocks crowing. A beautiful 

 lake lay shimmering in a green hollow beneath, 

 and I must admit that we were set down in 

 a wild kind of paradise. Strange mountain 



