though it can hardly be supposed that the stag hunt as portrayed in the Lady of the Lake' seduced many votaries of that sport to exchange the heaths round Ascot or the green pastures of the Harrow country for the steep sides of Ben Ledi or the wild fastnesses of the Trossachs. If literature had any effect in this direction, foremost among the publications of the day must be placed that delightful book on deer-stalking by Scrope. Allusion to this work will be made in a subsequent part of the present chapter.

From about the year 1860 to 1874 a lull took place in the process of clearing ground for deer. During that period sheep-farming was highly profitable, while the ground on which this industry could be less successfully prosecuted from considerations of climate had been already converted into deer forests. The close of the Franco-German war, and the adoption of a mono-metallic currency on the Continent, together with increasing importation of wool, reduced the profits of sheep-farming. The 'big' men from the Cheviots and Dumfriesshire, who had made their 'pile' during the American Civil War and succeeding years, threw up their farms, and there was no one to take their place. The owners of these farms had thus no option but to take them into their own hands, which required a large capital, or, if they got the opportunity,

to convert them into deer forests. The latter course was largely adopted, and has been continued, though of course diminishing as the available area diminished, up to the present time. It may safely be affirmed that almost the whole of the land in the Highlands suitable for deer (by which is meant land where sheep cannot be made to pay) is now cleared, and it is a subject for regret that there are signs of a disposition to convert good grouse moors into bad deer forests. In such cases the rules which ought to govern the formation of a forest are violated either through igno rance or obstinacy, and the result must be disappointment, loss, and vexation. I propose to deal with the social aspect of this question in a subsequent chapter. Here we are considering it from a sporting as well as a financial point of view.

There are certain conditions in the creation of a deer forest which are necessary and unmistakable. Even if these conditions be observed, success is not always to be obtained. Some unforeseen change in the management of a neighbouring estate, a wrong boundary to the newly formed forest, an erroneous estimate of the relative attractions of the ground to stags or hinds, and other local peculiarities, may interfere with the success of the operation; but failure, where knowledge exists and is given effect to, and when

advantage is taken of the experience acquired by others, is rare.

Thus, no one ought to think of making a deer forest on ground which is completely surrounded by sheep. To begin with, the amount of fencing would be enormous; without fencing the sheep would crowd in on every side, and it would then be useless for your purpose. Nor is it easy to see how such ground is to be stocked, or if at length it were to be stocked with deer, how long the process would last.

It is essential to make sure that there is good wintering ground belonging to your proposed forest, otherwise you will never get the best heads or the heaviest bodies, while if you trust to your neighbour to winter your deer, you ought to be sure of him. If of a jealous disposition, he may give trouble, forgetting that though wintering is all-important, still the growth and well-doing of a stag depend to some extent on his condition at the beginning of winter, and that the migration of a certain proportion of the deer that wintered with him to the newly made forest in the early summer relieves his own ground, and thus improves its capabilities to keep them all in good condition in winter.

But supposing a case where the above may not apply, or where your neighbour will not see it in that

light, or is a jealous sportsman, he may cause much annoyance either by the drastic method of running up a deer fence all along your march, or by walking a man up and down throughout the stalking season.

If possible, it is very desirable in forming a new forest to be reasonably assured that it will not develop into a 'hind' forest. This assurance is, however, not always to be obtained, and one is very apt to be deceived. Deer are curious beasts: the ground which one fancies must prove attractive to stags sometimes becomes a favourite resort of hinds, and is thus useful for stalking only towards the end of the season.

A striking instance of the extreme difficulty of ascertaining with certainty whether a tract of ground which it is proposed to clear for deer will prove to be the resort of stags or hinds, occurred in a case of my own some years ago. A large tract of land, occupied by one of the large farmers from the south to whom allusion has been made, fell out of lease. I had no option but to let it as a forest to a neighbour, and it was so let. It carried a stock of about 8,000 sheep, and consisted of four very large corries on the one side, with the face of a long glen on the other—the ridge of the latter, which formed the head of the corries, having an altitude of nearly 3,000 feet above sea-level. A more perfect place for the formation of

a forest could not be found anywhere. In the neighbourhood, but not quite contiguous, a range of hills with a south exposure had been cleared for deer about ten years previously, and was then fairly well stocked with stags as well as hinds. But the main ridge was not nearly so high as on the other ground, and a sheep fence ran along its whole length. Nor is there a single big corrie on the whole ground. It was an experiment, making a forest-but as it only carried some 3,000 sheep and lay very convenient to my own residence, I thought it worth trying, and the result has proved a success so far. But what would happen if this other ground was to be cleared? It appeared to be almost certain that its large extent, its magnificent corries, its greater elevation and richer pasture must attract every stag, and that the older forest would be denuded of everything but hinds during summer and

autumn.

This was my own opinion, as well as that of all my foresters, and of those of my friends whose judgment was likely to be sound. The result proved that we were all wrong. The new ground seduced none of my stags. At first it looked as if the anticipated effect of the operation was going to be the exact reverse of what was predicted, and that while there were more stags than before on the older and smaller forest, hinds were about to take possession of