CHAPTER V 
A DAY IN LARIG DOCHART 
ELL, you’ve got a fine day at last, sir ; you’ll 
have good luck to-day,” said William as he 
drew up the blinds and let the welcome 
sunlight permeate my little room, touching 
with gold the white points of the heads of 
fallen monarchs that adorned the walls. The 
first part of this cheerful remark was so 
obviously true that I sprang out of bed at 
once, and hurried over my toilet with an 
energy I had not experienced for some time 
past ; but as to the good luck, that seemed 
almost incredible after the experiences of the 
past week. Every morning I had watched 
eagerly for a clear view of the mountains 
with the green and purple tops, only to find 
them hidden away under a cloak of mist or drenching showers, that lasted, with rare 
intervals, throughout the day. 
Under such circumstances good sport is not to be expected, and (except Mr. Monty 
Campbell, who had been pretty successful in the outside lodge of Altahourn, situated far 
up in the forest) none of us had done very much. Chance shots may, however, be obtained 
when the animals are moving from one position to another ; or perhaps a solitary old hart 
may be found hiding in some retired corrie to which he has attached himself during the 
summer, and which he is loth to leave before the rutting season commences. So at every 
possible opportunity out we went, Mr. Maxton Graham (my companion in the Forest 
Lodge) and myself, with the result that, except one day when we each got one beast, we 
returned drenched to the skin, but with no carcasses but our own to show. Now, however, 
on this last day of our visit we were greeted with such a vision as Scotland alone can 
present. Ben Toig smiled upon us from afar, his robe of purple gay with golden splashes 
of sunlight, that chased each other over the whole expanse ; and through the open window 
