THE RED DEER 
had a fine view of the whole of the south face of this part of Glen Etive. 
More perfect deer ground it would be impossible to find — all grass and 
rolling corries, with steep hill faces running up 3,000 feet, and now 
tenanted by more than a dozen adult stags, all roaring in full chorus. We 
did not, however, find a master stag with a herd of hinds till we looked 
into Corrie Cor r our, and there was a fine nine -pointer with good black 
horns — a beast in his prime. 
Having decided that this was to be the object of our pursuit for the 
day, we undertook a long climb and an advance to the east along a high 
ridge so as to be above our stag. This occupied more than an hour, and 
when we next viewed our quarry he was found to be very unsettled and 
moving westwards along the face of Ben McCaskie. From our elevated 
position we now looked into a large corrie flanked by a steep hill face, 
and there were no fewer than five other good stags — all shootable beasts — 
one of them appearing to be a very fair royal. He was evidently an im- 
proving stag, and was not yet strong enough to gain a herd of his own; so, 
after admiring his ornaments and studying the heads of the others within 
view, we moved westward again and dropped a hundred feet or so to be 
above the line of our nine -pointer. From 1 to 3 p.m. he was coming slowly 
across a very open hill face which did not seem to contain a stone -slide 
or ridge higher than a man’s body, so we could not attempt any final 
advance until 3.30, when the hinds at last moved on to pass round the 
shoulder of the hill. The stalker, with his intimate knowledge of the ground, 
knew that there was a small punch bowl just beyond the shoulder, where 
the deer would probably halt a little, and which was probably within shot 
of the edge of the ridge. As soon, therefore, as the nine -pointer passed 
out of sight we raced down the hill and made for the spot he had just 
vacated. 
“ You must be canny,” he whispered, as I moved forward with rifle 
at the ready, ” as he is sure to spring if he’s near.” I was canny, and on 
looking over heard the defiant roar of a stag some eighty yards away. 
Yes; there he was, glancing about uneasily, possibly warned by that sixth 
sense that deer seem to possess, that ” something ” was near, though, 
as yet, he could not quite tell what. The hinds did not look ” kittle,” a 
fact somewhat unusual, for they generally do all the watching at this 
season, and are, as a rule, the first to apprehend danger. I saw I must 
shoot at once, either at the top of the back or neck, for a bad shot was sure 
to haunch him, so aiming very carefully, I dropped him stone dead with 
R 121 
