set out early in the morning in pursuit of deer, numbers
of which we knew were to be met with in the mountainous
tracts of Bute and Argyleshire. The course we
happened to take lay through a succession of dark
deep glens, and over frowning rocks; the difficulties
of access to which only stirred up my dormant spirit
of enterprise the more. We had continued in this
course for many hours, overcoming one difficulty only
to be encountered by another, and yet without meeting
a single deer; when, at length, the faint blast of
a horn was heard far above our heads in the distance,
and presently a noble stag was seen to ascend a ledge
of rocks immediately in front of us. To raise
my gun to my shoulder and fire was the work of a moment,
after which we all followed in pursuit. On reaching
the spot where the deer had first been seen, we observed
traces of blood, satisfying us he had been wounded;
but the course taken in his flight was one that seemed
to defy every human effort to follow in. It was
a narrow pointed ledge, ascending boldly towards a
huge cliff that projected frowningly from the extreme
summit, and on either side lay a dark, deep, and apparently
fathomless ravine; to look even on which was sufficient
to appal the stoutest heart, and unnerve the steadiest
brain. For me, however, long accustomed to dangers
of the sort, it had no terror. This was a position
in which I had often wished once more to find myself
placed, and I felt buoyant and free as the deer itself
I intended to pursue. In vain did my companions
(and your father was one) implore me to abandon a
project so wild and hazardous. I bounded forward,
and they turned shuddering away, that their eyes might
not witness the destruction that awaited me.
Meanwhile, balancing my long gun in my upraised hands,
I trod the dangerous path with a buoyancy and elasticity
of limb, a lightness of heart, and a fearlessness
of consequences, that surprised even myself.
Perhaps it was to the latter circumstance I owed my
safety, for a single doubt of my security might have
impelled a movement that would not have failed to
have precipitated me into the yawning gulf below.
I had proceeded in this manner about five hundred
yards, when I came to the termination of the ledge,
from the equally narrow transverse extremity of which
branched out three others; the whole contributing
to form a figure resembling that of a trident.
Pausing here for a moment, I applied the hunting horn,
with which I was provided, to my lips. This signal,
announcing my safety, was speedily returned by my
friends below in a cheering and lively strain, that
seemed to express at once surprise and satisfaction;
and inspirited by the sound, I prepared to follow
up my perilous chase. Along the ledge I had quitted
I had remarked occasional traces where the stricken
deer had passed; and the same blood-spots now directed
me at a point where, but for these, I must have been
utterly at fault. The centre of these new ridges,
and the narrowest, was that taken by the animal, and