But now the main body of the deer appeared at the head of the glen, compelled into a very narrow compass, and presenting such a formidable phalanx that their antlers appeared at a distance, over the ridge of the steep pass, like a leafless grove.  Their number was very great, and from a desperate stand which they made, with the tallest of the red-deer stags arranged in front, in a sort of battle-array, gazing on the group which barred their passage down the glen, the more experienced sportsmen began to augur danger.  The work of destruction, however, now commenced on all sides.  Dogs and hunters were at work, and muskets and fusees resounded from every quarter.  The deer, driven to desperation, made at length a fearful charge right upon the spot where the more distinguished sportsmen had taken their stand.  The word was given in Gaelic to fling themselves upon their faces; but Waverley, on whose English ears the signal was lost, had almost fallen a sacrifice to his ignorance of the ancient language in which it was communicated.  Fergus, observing his danger, sprung up and pulled him with violence to the ground, just as the whole herd broke down upon them.  The tide being absolutely irresistible, and wounds from a stag’s horn highly dangerous, the activity of the Chieftain may be considered, on this occasion, as having saved his guest’s life.  He detained him with a firm grasp until the whole herd of deer had fairly run over them.  Waverley then attempted to rise, but found that he had suffered several very severe contusions, and, upon a further examination, discovered that he had sprained his ankle violently.

[Footnote:  The thrust from the tynes, or branches, of the stag’s horns was accounted far more dangerous than those of the boar’s tusk:—­

If thou be hurt with horn of stag, it brings thee to thy bier, But barber’s hand shall boar’s hurt heal, thereof have thou no fear.]

This checked the mirth of the meeting, although the Highlanders, accustomed to such incidents, and prepared for them, had suffered no harm themselves.  A wigwam was erected almost in an instant, where Edward was deposited on a couch of heather.  The surgeon, or he who assumed the office, appeared to unite the characters of a leech and a conjuror.  He was an old smoke-dried Highlander, wearing a venerable grey beard, and having for his sole garment a tartan frock, the skirts of which descended to the knee, and, being undivided in front, made the vestment serve at once for doublet and breeches. [Footnote:  This garb, which resembled the dress often put on children in Scotland, called a polonie (i. e. polonaise), is a very ancient modification of the Highland garb.  It was, in fact, the hauberk or shirt of mail, only composed of cloth instead of rings of armour.] He observed great ceremony in approaching Edward; and though our hero was writhing with pain, would not proceed to any operation which might assuage it until he had perambulated his couch three times, moving