THE RED DEER 
eyes one now had to run and watch as well. Yes, there they were, but 
surely we were too late. All the hinds were strung out and trotting slowly 
400 yards away, whilst the rest of the herd were emerging from a 
depression below, some walking, some running. It was a moment of 
intense excitement as one strove to quiet Nature, and wonder if, when 
the stag appeared, he would offer a presentable target. At last both 
stags appeared, quite 180 yards away, at the tail of the string. I sat 
with my back to a rock, and waited for the last, whose head I could 
not see in the gloaming, to stop or turn sideways. No — on and on he 
walked till I imagined he had reached the ultimate range at which I 
could possibly shoot. Then he lowered his head, slewed sideways to 
nibble a bunch of grass, and I pressed the trigger. The next moment 
I saw the stag pawing the air with his forelegs and shaking his head 
wildly. I thought at first I had hit him in the neck, but presently 
he began staggering from side to side just as I was going to give him 
another shot, and then I knew he had received a heart shot. By the time 
I got up to him he was nearly dead, and Campbell completed the execution 
with his knife. I had killed the royal — 15 stone 10 lb., and a fine beast. 
It was a great finish to the memorable day, for the distance of the shot 
was 210 yards. 
October 9. Up to the high beat of Stob-n-na-lappich with Duncan 
Cameron, a man of severe aspect, but considerable stalking ability. It 
was in the open flats beneath the high peak that the deer were driven 
from the whole of Glen Strathfarrer in Mr Winans’s time, and where 
forty-eight stags, represented by all sizes and ages, were killed as the 
result of one of these theatrical slaughters conducted by the millionaire. 
Duncan and the other stalkers had many tales to tell of these drives, 
which only took place once, or perhaps twice, in the whole season, and 
poured not a little contempt on such methods of killing deer. Immense 
numbers of men were employed to head the deer to the final pass or 
corrie where the rifles were posted. The one man who had any fun out 
of this spectacular butchery was one Archie, who was posted on the hill 
behind the late Mr Winans, who, unlike his sons, was a somewhat indif- 
ferent shot. Archie was employed to kill any stag that was thought to be 
wounded by the American millionaire, and which came up to his post 
of concealment. It need hardly be said that, as the stalkers pawkily re- 
marked, he did not look very carefully for any blood sign when a hart 
of exceptional size and beauty of horn came trotting by. 
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