THE RED DEER 
on the slope, above which we could not yet see. At 1,000 feet we crept 
from the burn edge on the Struy march and had a good spy over the greater 
part of the Deanie Beat, which now lay spread out in one long slope to 
the east, reaching from the Farrer below to the high peaks nearly 3,000 feet 
above, which mark the march of Strathconan. To the uninitiated it always 
seems remarkable, and in some cases annoyingly so, that the local man 
can always find three lots of deer to one you find yourself. But consolation 
may be learned in the fact that he is indeed a duffer if he cannot do so, 
for the very simple reason that he knows, or ought to know, exactly the 
spots where the deer are likely to be feeding or lying at certain hours. 
His knowledge of deer and spying power may not be superior to your own, 
but, on his own ground, he must always be the better man with the glass, 
whereas if you were to take him to some unknown forest or foreign lands, 
he might be at as much trouble to find a beast as you yourself. I was there- 
fore neither chagrined nor jealous that Johnny found three lots of deer 
before I found one. In mine, however, was the “ beast.” I just saw his 
horns sticking out of a peat hag in a small hollow below the highest tops, 
whilst a further careful search disclosed the heads of five hinds all deeply 
buried in old heather and rank grass. From our position he looked a 
fair beast and better than anything else in view, and though his head was 
not good, I thought he would do to spend the morning in the practice of 
stalking. 
We now crept back, taking the shelter of the burn, and with ease reached 
the hill above our beast, finding nothing in the way, until we reached the 
shoulder immediately above the stag. This part of the stalk presented no 
difficulty, but once there, I found that the depression of stones, a small 
watercourse, was too shallow to hide us, and that the only line of descent 
was within full view for at least 150 yards. As the wind was steady and 
all the deer lying facing west and looking downhill, I decided to take the 
risk of an open crawl. This being safely accomplished, I now crawled 
to within 100 yards of the deer. I must have made some slight noise 
as I pushed the rifle round the shoulder of a small rock, for the deer 
were all up and walking away when next I viewed them. Fortunately 
the stag was clear and my shot was successful in taking him just above 
the heart. 
We now had lunch, and then ascended to the top of the range, going as 
far west as the limits of the beat. We saw below us seven stags as good as 
the one I had shot, and two rather better, just what are called ” good 
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