A Day in Larig Dochart 79 
came to us as we sat at breakfast the sweet incense of the pine woods with which the 
morning air was laden. I had, too, the promise of our host that on the first fine day I 
should be taken to the high beat of Larig Dochart, whose transcendent beauty I had heard 
discussed a hundred times in the smoking-room ; so with this brilliant prospect before 
me, I need hardly say I did not linger over breakfast. 
A start for the hill is soon made, the arrangements here being perfect, and the guest 
having no further trouble than to call for his stalker and pony whenever he likes. For 
over a mile the road passes along a beautiful avenue of pines and larches, through which 
“some grouse and blackgame came over, and all their heads went up at once 
Photograph of wild deer from nature taken in the forest of the Black Mount. 
the lovely Loch Tulla is plainly seen, while on the other side is the home wood, where, 
amongst the trees and dense undergrowth, a roe, or now and then a stag, fearlessly shows 
himself as he takes a peep at the passing traveller, this being part of the sanctuary whose 
inmates, consisting of stags, roe, and semi-wild white-faced hinds presented to Lord 
Breadalbane by the King of Denmark, are never disturbed. 
On debouching from the avenue gate, leaving on the right the head stalker’s house, 
resonant with the howling of dogs, and bristling with the antlers of many a noble hart 
that has breathed his last in the forest of the Black Mount, we follow the road across the 
open moor and along the course of the river for four miles to Grant’s house, where we 
dismount and commence the ascent at once. 
Till now the day had been all that could be desired, but before we were half-way up 
