CHAPTER SEVEN.
AMAZING DEEDS AND MISDEEDS AT A DEER-DRIVE.
To some casts of mind there is no aspect of nature so enchanting orromantic as that which is presented, on a fine summer day from thevantage ground of a ridge or shoulder high up on the mountains of one ofour western isles.
It may be that the union of the familiar and beautiful with theunfamiliar and wild is that which arouses our enthusiastic admiration.As we stand in the calm genial atmosphere of a summer day, surveying theland and sea-scape from a commanding height that seems to have raised usabove the petty cares of life, the eye and mind pass like thelightning-flash from the contemplation of the purple heather and purpleplants around--and from the home-feelings thereby engendered--to thegrand, apparently illimitable ocean, and the imagination is set free torevel in the unfamiliar and romantic regions "beyond seas."
Some such thoughts were passing in the mind of Giles Jackman, as hestood alone, rifle in hand, on such a height one splendid forenoon, andcontemplated the magnificent panorama.
Far down below--so far that the lowing of the red and black specks,which were cattle, and the bleating of the white specks, which weresheep, failed to reach him--a few tiny cottages could be seen, each inthe midst of a green patch that indicated cultivation. Farther on, asnow-white line told where the wavelets kissed the rugged shore, but nosound of the kiss reached the hunter's ear. Beyond, as if floating onthe calm water, numerous rocky islets formed the playground ofinnumerable gulls, skarts, seals, loons, and other inhabitants of thewild north; but only to the sense of vision were their varied activitiesperceptible. Among these islets were a few blacker spots, which itrequired a steady look to enable one to recognise as the boats offishermen; but beyond them no ship or sign of man was visible on thegreat lone sea, over, and reflected in which, hung a few soft andtowering masses of cloudland.
"If thus thy meaner works are fair, And beautiful beyond compare; How glorious must the mansions be Where Thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee!"
Jackman murmured rather than spoke the words, for no human ear was thereto hear. Nevertheless there were human ears and tongues also, not fardistant, engaged in earnest debate. It was on one of the ledges of theEagle Cliff that our hunter stood. At another part of the same cliff,close to the pass where Milly Moss met with her accident, Allan Gordonstood with nearly all his visitors and several of his retainers aroundhim.
"Higher up the pass you'll have a much better chance, Mr Barret. Is itnot so, Ivor?"
The keeper, who, in kilt, hose, and bonnet, was as fine a specimen of atall athletic Highlander as one could wish to see, replied that that wastrue.
"Nae doot," he said, "I hev put Mr Jackman in the best place of all,for, whativer way the deer come, they'll hev to pass close, either aboveor below him--an' that's maybe as weel for him wi' his queernew-fashioned rifle; but at the heed o' the pass is the next best place.The only thing is that ye'll hev to tak' sure aim, for there's moreroom for them to stray, an' ye may chance to git only a lang shot."
"Well, then, it is not the place for me, for I am a poor shot," saidBarret; "besides, I have a fancy to stay here, where I am. You say itis a very good spot, Ivor, I understand?"
"Weel, it's no' that bad as a spote," answered the keeper, with a grimsmile, for he had not much opinion of Barret's spirit as a sportsman;"but it's ackward as the lawnd lies."
"Never mind. I'll stay here, and you know, laird, that I have somepleasant associations with it in connection with your niece."
"That is more than Milly has," returned the old gentleman, laughing."However, have your way. Now, gentlemen, we must place ourselvesquickly, for the beaters will soon be entering the wood. I will takeyou, Mr Mabberly, to a spot beyond the pass where you will be prettysure of a shot. And MacRummle--where shall we place him?"
"He can do nothing wi' the gun at a', sir," muttered the keeper, in alow voice, so that he might not be overheard. "I wad putt him doon atthe white rock. He'll git a lang shot at them there. Of course he'llmiss, but that'll do weel enough for him--for he's easy pleased; onyway, if he tak's shootin' as he tak's fishin', a mere sight o' the deer,like the rise o' a salmon, 'll send him home happy."
"Very well, Ivor, arrange as you think best. And how about CaptainMcPherson and McGregor?"
"I'll tak' care o' them mysel', sir."
"Ye need na' fash yer heed aboot us, laird," said the skipper. "Bein'more used to the sea than the mountains, we will be content to look on.Iss that not so, Shames?"
"That iss so--what-e-ver," returned the seaman.
"Well, come along then; the beaters must be at work now. How many didyou get, Ivor?"
"I'm not exactly sure, sir," returned the keeper; "there's Ian Andersonan' Tonal' from Cove, an' Mister Archie an' Eddie, an' Roderick--that'sfive. Oo, ay, I forgot, there's that queer English loon, Robin Tips--he's no' o' much use, but he can mak' a noise--besides three o' MrGrant's men."
"That's plenty--now then--"
"Please, father," said Junkie, who had listened with open eyes andmouth, as well as ears, for this was his first deer-stalk, "may I stopwith Mr Barret?"
"Certainly, my boy, if Mr Barret does not object."
Of course Mr Barret did not object, though he was rather surprised atthis mark of preference.
"I say, me boy," whispered Pat Quin, "ask av I may stop wid ye."
Junkie looked at the Irishman doubtfully for a moment, then said--
"Father, Quin says he wants to stop with me."
"You mayn't do that, Quin," returned the laird with a smile; "but youmay go and stay with your master. I heard him say that he would likeyou to be with him to keep you out of mischief."
"Thankee, sor. I was used to attend on 'im in the jungles to carry hisspare guns, for it's ellyphints, no less, that we was used to bag outthere; but I make no question he can amuse himsilf wid deer an' thingslike that where there's nothin' better. He was always aisy to plaze,like Mr MacRummle."
"Just so, Quin; and as MacRummle knows the hill, and has to pass theplace where Mr Jackman has been left, you had better follow him."
This arranged, the different parties took up their positions to awaitthe result of the beating of a strip of dwarf forest, several miles inextent, which clothed part of the mountain slopes below the Eagle Cliff.
On reaching the spot where Jackman was stationed, old MacRummleexplained to him the various arrangements that had just been made forthe comfort of all.
"I am sorry they gave me the best place," said Jackman. "I suppose itis because the laird thinks my experience in India entitles me to it;but I would much rather that Mabberly or Barret had got the chance, forI'm used to this sort of thing, and, after bagging elephants, I canafford to lay on my oars and see my friends go in and win."
"An' sure, aren't thim the very words I said, sor?" put in Quin.
"Have they given you a good place?" asked Jackman of MacRummle, takingno notice of his man's remarks.
"They've given me the worst," said the old man, simply; "and I cannotblame them, for, as the keeper truly remarked, I can do nothing with thegun,"--still less with the rifle, he might have added! "At the sametime, I confess it would have added somewhat to the zest of the day ifIvor had allowed me some degree of hope. He thought I didn't overhearhim, but I did; for they give me credit for greater deafness than Ideserve."
There was something so pitiful, yet half amusing, in the way in whichthis was said, that Jackman suddenly grasped the old gentleman's hand.
"Mr MacRummle," he said firmly, "will you do me a favour?"
"Certainly, with pleasure--if I can."
"You can--and you shall. It is this: change places and rifles with me."
"My dear, kind sir, you don't know what you ask. My rifle is an olddouble-barrel muzzle loader, and at the white rock you wouldn't have theghost of a chance. I know the place well, having often passed it infishing excursions up the burns. Besides, I never used a repeatingrifle in my life. I couldn't manage it,
even if I were to try."
"Mr MacRummle, are you not a Highlander?"
"I believe I am!" replied the old man, drawing himself up with a smile.
"And is not that equivalent to saying that you are a man of your word?"
"Well--I suppose it is so--at least it should be so."
"But you will prove that it is not so, if you fail to do me a favourthat lies in your power, after promising to do it. Come now, we have notime to lose. I will show you how to use the repeater. See; it isempty just now. All you have to do is to take aim as you would with anyordinary rifle, and pull the trigger. When the shot is off, you loadagain by simply doing _this_ to the trigger-guard--so. D'youunderstand?"
"Yes, perfectly; but is that all? no putting in of cartridges anywhere?"
"No, nothing more. Simply do _that_ (open--and the cartridge fliesout), and _that_ (shut--and you are loaded and ready to fire)! Now, tryit. That's it! Capital! Couldn't be better. Why, you were born to bea sportsman!"
"Yes, with fish," remarked the gratified old man, as he went through themotions of loading and firing to perfection.
"Now, then, I will load it thus. Watch me."
As he spoke, he filled the chamber under the barrel with cartridge aftercartridge to the amazement of MacRummle and the amusement of Quin, wholooked on.
"How many shots will it fire without reloading?" asked the old man atlength.
"Sixteen," replied Jackman.
"What! sixteen? But--but how will I ever know how many I've let off?"
"You don't require to know. Just blaze away till it refuses to fire!Now, I must be off. Where is this white rock that I have to go to?"
"There it is--look. A good bit down the hill, on the open ground nearthe forest. If you have good eyes, you can see it from here. Look,just behind the ridge. D'you see?"
"I see. Great luck to you. Do good work, and teach that rascal Ivor torespect your powers with the rifle. Come along, Quin."
"But really, my young friend, it is too good, too self-denying of youto--"
He stopped, for Jackman and Quin were already striding down the mountainon their way to the white rock.
MacRummle had been somewhat excited by the enthusiasm of his youngfriend and the novelty of his situation. To say truth, he would muchrather have been pottering along the banks of one of his loved Highlandstreams, rod in hand, than crouching in the best pass of the Eagle Cliffin expectation of red-deer; but being an amiable and sympathetic man, hehad been fired by the enthusiasm of the household that morning, and,seeing that all were going to the drive, including the laird, he made uphis mind to brace himself up to the effort, and float with the current.His enthusiasm had not cooled when he reached the Eagle Cliff, andJackman's kindness, coupled with hope and the repeating rifle, increasedit even to white heat. In which condition he sat down on a rock,removed his hat, and wiped his bald, perspiring head, while a benignantsmile illuminated his glowing features.
About the same time, Barret and Junkie having selected a convenient massof rock as their outlook, so that they could command the pass for somedistance in both directions without exposing themselves to view, restedthe rifle against the cliff and began to talk. Soon the young mandiscovered that the little boy, like many other mischievous boys, was ofan exceedingly inquiring disposition. Among other things, he not onlybegan an intelligent inquiry about the locks of a rifle, but a practicalinquiry with his fingers, which called for remonstrance.
"Do you know, Junkie, that this is the very spot where your Cousin Millyfell?" said Barret, by way of directing the urchin's thoughts into asafer channel.
"Is it? Oh, dear, _what_ a thump she must have come down!"
"Yes, indeed, a dreadful thump--poor thing. She was trying to getflowers at the time. Do you know that she is exceedingly fond offlowers?"
"Oh, don't I? She's got books full of them--all pasted in with namesprinted under them. I often wonder what she sees in flowers to be sofond of them. I don't care a button for them myself, unless they smellnice. But I often scramble after them for her."
"There is a good deal to like in flowers besides the smell," saidBarret, assuming an instructive tone, which Junkie resented on the spot.
"Oh, yes, I don't want to know; you needn't try to teach me," he said,firmly.
"Of course not. I wouldn't think of teaching you, my boy. You know I'mnot a schoolmaster. I'm not clever enough for that, and when I was yourage, I hated to be taught. But I could _show_ you some things aboutflowers and plants that would astonish you. Only it would not be safeto do it just now, for the deer might come up and--"
"No they won't," interrupted the boy; "it's a monstrous big wood they'vegot to pass through before they can come here, so we have time to lookat some of the 'stonishin' things."
"Well, then, come. We will just go a little way up the cliff."
Leading Junkie away among the masses of fallen rock, which strewed thatledge of the cliff, the wily youth began to examine plants and flowersminutely, and to gradually arouse in the boy's mind an interest in suchparts of botanical science as he was capable of understanding.
Meanwhile the small army of beaters had extended themselves across thedistant end of the forest, which, being some miles off, and on the otherside of a great shoulder of the mountain, was not only out of sight, butout of hearing of the stalkers who watched the passes of the EagleCliff.
All the beaters, or drivers, were well acquainted with the work they hadto do, with the exception of Robin Tips, to whom, of course, it wasquite new. But Ian Anderson put him under Donald's care, with strictinjunctions to look well after him.
"Now, Tonal', see that ye don't draw together an' git ta-alkin' so as toforget what ye're about. Keep him at the right distance away from ye,an' as much in line as ye can."
"Oo, ay," returned ragged head, in a tone that meant, when translatedinto familiar English, "Don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs!"
In a sequestered dell on the slope of the hills, a lordly stag andseveral hinds were enjoying themselves that morning among the brackenand bright mosses, partially screened from the sun by the over-archingboughs of birch and hazel, and solaced by the tinkling music of aneighbouring rill. Thick underwood concealed the dell on all sides;grey lichen-covered boulders surrounded it; no sound disturbed it savethe faint cry of the plover and curlew on the distant shore, or the flapof a hawk's wing as it soared overhead. Altogether it looked like asafe and sure retreat, but it did not prove to be so.
Mingled with the plaintive cries of the wild fowl, there came a faint--barely perceptible--sound of the human voice. The stag pricked up hisears, and raised his antlered head. It was by no means a new sound tohim. The shepherd's voice calling to his collie on the mountain-sidewas a familiar sound, that experience had taught him boded no evil. Theconverse of friends as they plodded along the roads or foot-paths thatoften skirted his lairs, had a tone of innocence about it which onlyinduced caution--not alarm. But there was nothing of this in the soundsthat now met his ears. He raised himself higher, opened his nostrilswider, sniffed the tainted air, and then, turning his graceful head,made some remark--we presume, though we cannot be positive on thispoint--to his wives.
These, meek and gentle--as females usually are, or ought to be--turnedtheir soft inquiring gaze on their lord. Thus they stood, as ifspell-bound, while the sounds slowly but steadily increased in volumeand approached their retreat. Presently a shoulder of the mountain wasturned by the drivers, and their discordant voices came down on thegentle breeze with unmistakable significance.
We regret being unable to report exactly what the stag then said to hiswives, but the result was that the entire family bounded from theirretreat, and, in the hurry and alarm of the moment, scattered alongvarious glades, all of which, however, trended ultimately towards thosemountain fastnesses that exist about and beyond the Eagle Cliff.
Two of the hinds followed their lord in a direction which led them outof the wood within sight of, t
hough a considerable distance from, thewhite rock behind which Jackman and Quin were concealed. The othersfled by tracks somewhat higher on the hill-sides, where however, as thereader knows, the enemy was posted to intercept them.
"Sure it's a purty stag, afther all," whispered Quin, who, in spite ofelephantine-Indian sport, was somewhat excited by this sudden appearanceof the Scottish red-deer. "But they're a long way off, sor."
"Not too far, if the rifle is true," said Jackman, in a very low voice,as he put up the long-range sight.
"You'll git a good chance at the stag whin he tops the hillock forenentyou, sor," remarked the somewhat garrulous Irishman.
"I won't fire at the stag, Quin," returned Jackman, quietly. "You and Ihave surely killed enough of bigger game abroad. We can afford to letthe stag pass on to our friends higher up, some of whom have never seena red-deer before, and may never have a chance of seeing one again."
All this was said by the sportsman in a low, soft voice, which could nothave been heard three yards off, yet his sharp eye was fixed intently onthe passing deer. Seeing that there was no likelihood of their comingnearer, he raised his rifle, took steady but quick aim, and fired. Oneof the hinds dropped at once; the other followed her terrified lord ashe dashed wildly up the slope.
Partial deafness is a slight disadvantage in deer-stalking. So, atleast, MacRummle discovered that day. After having wiped his forehead,as already described, he set himself steadily to fulfil the duties ofhis situation. These were not so simple as one might suppose, for, ashad been explained to him by Jackman, he had to watch two passes--oneclose above his post, the other close below it--either of which mightbring the deer within easy reach of his rifle, but of course there wasthe uncertainty as to which of the two passes the deer would choose. Asit was a physical impossibility to have his eyes on both passes at once,the old gentleman soon found that turning his head every few secondsfrom one side to the other became irksome. Then it became painful. Atlast it became torture, and then he gave up this plan in despair,resolving to devote a minute at a time to each pass, although feelingthat by so doing his chances were greatly diminished.
When Jackman fired his shot, MacRummle's ears refused to convey theinformation to his brain. He still sat there, turning his head slowlyto and fro, and feeling rather sleepy. One of the scattered deer, whichhad gone higher up the mountain, passed him by the upper track.MacRummle was gazing at the lower track just then! Having given theallotted time to it, he turned languidly and beheld the hind, trottingrather slowly, for it was somewhat winded.
The sight sent sportsman-fire through the old gentleman's entire frame.He sprang, he almost tumbled up, but before he could fire, a jealousboulder intervened. Rushing up a few yards, he was just in time to seethe animal bound over a cliff and disappear.
Depressed beyond measure, he returned to his post and resumed the rapidhead-motion which he had foolishly discontinued. This was fortunate,for it enabled him to see in time the stag and hind which Jackman hadsent bounding towards him. Another moment, and the affrighted creatureswere within range. MacRummle sprang up, put the repeater to hisshoulder, and then commenced a fusillade that baffles description.Bang, bang, bang, went the repeater; bang, bang, double-bang, andbanging everywhere went the startled echoes of the mountain. Neversince it sprang from the volcanic forces of nature had the Eagle Cliffsent forth such a spout of rattling reverberation. The old man took noaim whatever. He merely went through the operations of load and firewith amazing rapidity. Each crack delivered into the arms of echo wasmultiplied a hundredfold. Showers of bullets seemed to hail around theastounded quarry. Smoke, as of a battle, enshrouded the sportsman. Therifle became almost too hot to hold, and when at last it ceased torespond to the drain upon its bankrupt magazine, the stag and hind laydead upon the track, and MacRummle lay exhausted with excitement andexertion upon the heather!
This unwonted fusillade took the various parties higher up the hill bysurprise. To Ivor, indeed, it was quite a new experience, and heregarded it with a smile of grim contempt.
"There iss noise enough--what-e-ver!" remarked Skipper McPherson, whosat beside the keeper with a double-barrelled gun charged with buckshot,which he had in readiness.
"Look! look!" exclaimed Ivor, pointing to another part of the pass,"your friend McGregor has got a fright!"
"Ay, that's true. Shames would be troubled in his mind, I think."
There was indeed some reason to suppose so. The worthy seaman, havinggot tired of waiting, had, against Ivor's advice, wandered a few yardsalong the pass, where, seeing something farther on that aroused hiscuriosity, he laid down the single-barrelled fowling-piece with which hehad been provided, and began to clamber. Just as the repeater openedfire, two hinds, which had got ahead of the others, ran through the passby different tracks. One of these McGregor saw before it came up, andhe rushed wildly back for his gun. It was this act that his comradesrightly attributed to mental perturbation.
"Look out!" whispered the keeper.
As he spoke the other hind, doubling round a mass of fallen rock, almostleaped into McGregor's arms. It darted aside, and the seaman, utteringa wild shout, half raised his gun and fired. The butt hit him on thechest and knocked him down, while the shot went whizzing in alldirections round his comrades, cutting their garments, but fortunatelydoing them no serious injury.
"Oh, Shames! ye was always in too great a hurry," remonstrated theskipper, oblivious of the fact that he himself had been too slow.
"Quick, man, fire!" cried Ivor, testily.
The captain tried to energise. In doing so he let off one barrel at thecelestial orbs unintentionally. The other might as well have gone thesame way, for all the execution it did.
When he looked at the keeper, half apologetically, he saw that he wasquietly examining his leg, which had been penetrated by a pellet.
"Eh! man, are 'ee shot?" cried the captain, anxiously.
"Oo, ay, but I'm none the worse o' it! I had a presentiment o'somethin' o' this sort, an' loaded his gun wi' small shot," replied thekeeper.
Profound were the expressions of apology from McGregor, on learning whathe had done, and patronisingly cool were the assurances of Ivor that theinjury was a mere flea-bite. And intense was the astonishment when itwas discovered that a stag and a hind had fallen to old MacRummle withthat "treemendious" repeater! And great was the laughter afterwards, atlunch time on the field of battle, when Junkie gravely related thatBarret was upon a precipice, trying to reach a rare plant, when the deerpassed, so that he did not get a shot at all! And confused was theexpression of Barret's face when he admitted the fact, though hecarefully avoided stating that his mind was taken up at the time with avery different kind of dear!
It was afternoon when the assembled party, including drivers, sat downto luncheon on the hill-side, and began to allay the cravings ofappetite, and at the same time to recount or discuss in more or lessenergetic tones, the varied experiences of the morning. Gradually thevictuals were consumed, and the experiences pretty well thrashed out,including those of poor Mabberly, who had failed to get even a chance ofa shot.
"An' sure it's no wonder at all," was Pat Quin's remark; "for the noisewas almost as bad as that night when you an' me, sor, was out after theelephants in that great hunt in the North-western provinces of Indy."
"Oh, _do_ tell us about that," cried Junkie and his brothers, turningeagerly to Jackman.
"So I will, my boys; but not now. It will take too long. Some othertime, in the house, perhaps, when a bad day comes."
"No, now, _now_!" cried Junkie.
Seeing that most of those present had lighted their pipes, and that thelaird seemed to wish it, Jackman washed down his lunch with a glass ofsparkling water, cleared his throat, and began.