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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la methode. 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART ANSI r,na ISO r£SI CmARI No 2 1.0 I.I 118 12.5 2 2 llli m m 142 [||||2-0 mil i.s 1.25 1.4 1.6 A .^Pc^LiED irvVIGE Inc TtlE CHARM GF THE HILLS SETON-GORDON-F.Z S. . » ••iv.'«' • f- *f^:- , »v - .^'^'^'>'^':...'^- >w.<:'^ •/;•"•• ///( /-..v-/,' -s; ,/;/;////;, /,/v r.vvv,-, f^ ■- -7 ( v\ THE CHARM OF THE HILLS BY SETON GORDON, F.Z.S.. M.B.o.U. AUTHOR OF "BIROS OF THE LOCH AND MOUNTAIN" SECOND EDITION ^'i7A a Rembrandt i>hotogravure frontispiece and eighty.ft tllmtrations from photographs by the Author our GASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne 1914 i TO 0.\[ WHO LOVBS THh GLEN;, AND CORKIIvS OF IHh HIII.S PREFACE It has often been suggested to me that I should publish in book form a selection of articles whicli have appeared in various papers and magazines during the past few years, and these pages are the result of the suggestions. The photographs have been taken at every season of the year, but the majority between the months of May and July, when on the hills there are frequently no hours of darkness, but when the last rays of the setting sun are replaced, in the north, by the infant dawn. I have spent much time on the hills in the compiling of this work, but there are certain days which live in the memory with singular vividness. For instance, a friend and I once passed a night at an eagle's eyrie far up a lonely glen, in the hope of being able to photograph the mother bird with the first rays of the sun. Perhaps the most interesting days of mj' experience have been spent at the summer haunts of the snow bunting, often at a height of over 4,000 feet above sea level, where a snow- fall may be looked for during any month of the twelve. On one occasion I penetrated to the nesting haunt of the snow bunting at dead of night— guided by the uncertain light of the moon— and as I lay on the hill-side the song of the snow bird was borne across the corrie on the still air at exactly an hour and five minutes after midnight. Very wild and beautiful were the notes of the mountain singer as he greeted the dawn at an hour when the glens were still wrapped in gloom, and I was fully appreciative of the privilege I enjoyed in listening to his song. vu; PREFACE Another expedition winch 1 recall was made to the high hills during the summer of Kjcxj, with the intention of photo- graphing the snow bunting— which I believe had never been achieved at that time. After a long walk through the night, we reached the msting home of the bunting at sunrise, and were fortunate enough to obtain, before six o'clock, a series of photographs of a young bird. While studying ptarmigan at their nesting haunts in mid- winter, a friend and I were overtaken by a terrific blizzard, and, more by go'jd fortune than anything else, were able to reach the shelter of the lower grounds. For the photographing uf hill birds I consider the month of June is most suitable, though during July — and especially during the first fortnight of that month— I have frequently secured interesting pictures of the young of the golden eagle and ptarmigan. As a natural result of their exposed nesting grounds, the breeding season of mountain birds is a precarious and un- certain one, and I have seen young ptarmigan as late as the third week in September. I have watched the parent eagle carry a grouse to her young, appearing, with her picy, extremely like an aeroplane, and liave heard the yelp of the eaglets as they called for their morning meal ; while on one occasion I was fortunate enough to observe the initial flight of a pair of eaglets from their eyrie. In conclusion, [ would tend my grateful thanks to the editors of all those papers through whose kind permission 1 liave been enabled to make use of articles which have appeared in their pages, and especially to the editors of Country Life and of the Scotsman, who have taken so much trouble on my behalf. Seton Gordon. Aboyne, September, 1912. '^^r' ^m^yc'^ym^ CONTENTS CHAPTER 1. The Mountain' Charm 2. Where the Ptarmigan Nests . 3. Early June on the Cairngorms 4. At the Haunts of the Eagle . 5- Through the Larig Ghruamach by Night 6. Ben Muich Dhui and Loch Avon 7. The Red Grouse .... 8. The Mountain Shieling 9. The Life History of the Ptarmigan 10. Autumn on the High Hills 11. The Vanishing Osprey 12. The Coming of the Snows to the Hills 13- The Nesting of the Dotterel . 14. The Full of the Moon on Cairntoul 15- At the Peregrine's Nesting Haunt . 16. At the Source of the Dee 17. Dee7 Driving 18. The Nesting Haunt of the Snow Buntin 19. On Cairngorm Stones 20. The Courtship of Some Moorland Birds 21. Late October in the Forest I 6 10 15 20 24 28 32 40 47 52 57 65 69 73 -!(=• / " 82 87 92 95 lOI CONTENTS CMATTER 22. The Eternal Snows of the Cairngorms 2j. The Ch)li)en Eagle and its Nesting . 24. Winter in the Ptakmigan Coi'ntky . 25. Ancient Mountain Woodlands in Scotlan 26 Cairntol-l in Snow .... 27. Birds as Mothers .... 28. Winter on Mount Ki:i:.\ . 2i). Loch Avon and Braeri.ach in Jani'akv 30. A Night with the Golden Eagle ji. Coming of Spring on the Cairngorms PACI 111 146 THE YEAR ON THE HILLS Spring Summer Autumn Winter 163 197 219 229 Index 241 LIST OF PLATES Ax Eagle gravni't:) SCANN'ING Hli CoRRiE (Rembrandt Photo- Fronti^pu-:e The Home of the Eagle The Eagle's Home ix March . GoLDEX Eagle Half-grovvx Red Grous;: Ckolchin YouxG Black Grouse "The Loch of the Junipers" The Hauxt of the White Grouse The Mouxt\in Shieling . The Coming of Winter to the Hills The Home of the Ptarmigan in Mid-April . The Author and his Tent, in June, at the Haunt of th Ptarmigan A Lonely Bothy in the Ptarmigan Country Young Kestrels The Osprey's Former Home Mist ox the Tops The Haunt of the Snows Young Eagle Watching Two Presuming Wheatkars WHICH were Annoying him .... Dotterel at her Nesting Home A Golden Eagle Emerging from a Deep Pool through WHICH he has Propelled Himself with his VVj.ngs Nest of Dotterei i6 17 17 30 30 31 31 36 i7 42 42 43 54 55 60 60 61 66 66 67 Xll LIST OF PLATKS Young Do terel Home of iiie Peregrin e ...... Family of Young Kestrels Ne.ar the Source of the Aberdeenshire Dee The Uppermost Re.vches of the Dee . . . . The R.\v.\ges of a Cloud-Burst on the Hills, Showing Some of the Kocks broi:c.ht down the JIill-side . Kindling a I- ire in a Deer Forest . . . . The Snow Bunting in Song .\t his Nesting Site, close on 4,000 Feet above Sea Level .... Mid-August at the Haints of the Snow Bunting The Snow Bunting's Nesting Site. . . . . Young Snow Bunting near the Nest .... The Eternal Snows ....... The Eternal Snows in Autumn — Showing a F^resh Sprink- ling OF Snow Covering them ..... Eyrie of the Eagle in a Scots Fir c'uite 200 Years OF Age Eyrie of a Golden Eagle in a Birch Tree . Golden Eagle supporting Himself on his Wings in Long Heather Young Golden Eagle " Taking Off " . Golden Eagle leaving her Eyrie .... Eagle using his Wings to assist his Walking in very Long He.\ther Golden Eagles (Cock and Hen) after their First Flight from /he Eyrie ...... Golden Eagle some Three Weeks before Flight Nesting Glen of the Eagle Golden Eagles ; — at Bay ...... Golden F^agle Golden Eagle— An Attitude of Defence FACISG fAOt . 67 74 75 78 79 84 85 88 88 89 89 106 107 112 113 114 "5 116 117 120 121 122 122 123 123 LIST OF PLATES xiii Young Ptarmigan Crouching . Young Ptarmi(;an— Showing its Wonderful Harmonisa HON WITH ITS SlKKOUNDlNGS . {Iaunt ok the Black (}rouse : January A Solitary Remnant of Early Days . Remains of an Early Pine Eorest Close on 2.000 Feet above Sea Level .... Yoing Willow Warbler Young P>ullfinche3— Cock and IIen A Veteran of the Forest Home of the Water Ousel . The Snowy Corrie of Braeriacii in June The Sndwy Corrie of Braeki.vch which is Never Free or Snow ...... The Eagle's Home ..... Golden Eagle in Distress Eagle Panting in Intense IlEAf . Ptarmigan on hek Nest The Ptarmigan Called Up by an Imitation Cry of Chick IN Distress Ptarmigan's Nest Built under the Shelter of a Rock Young Tawny Owls .... Tawny Owl Nest and Eggs of Tawny Owl Nest of Red Kite A Former Home of the Kite Haunt of the Blackgame A Family of Spotted Flycatchers Spotted Flvc.\.tcher on Nest Eyrie of the Golden Eagle in Late April— Showin THE Snow still lying around . Young Cock Eagle FACING PAGE 134 135 144 144 145 145 152 153 159 159 164 164 165 172 173 173 176 182 183 183 192 193 XIV LIS! OF FLATIiS Head of GoLnKN Eagle .... Hen E.vgle, Showing tiu- Iiiik.-i Evilu) EYRII. or THE r.OLDIN EaGLI". Sl'.OWINf, HOW Ml One Egg genekai ly is than the Ojueh Golden E.\gle .... YOCNG KeSTKELS— BkOTULK AM) S'STLK HO.ME OF THE MeRGANSEU The Winter IIacnt of THi; P.lackgamk liL.VCK-HEADEI) 23 236 2 '7 I^> v:jr'rmft?MMim^-mA^ (*• 20Z THE CHARM OF THE HILLS CHAPTER I TIIK MOUNTArx (.IfAKM For the lover of the grand in nature the mountain.-, liavc a sm^'ular fascination. The children of th ■ mountain, too — the sltrn and impassive eagle and the gentle ptarmigan — seem to have instilled into them the true spirit of the mist, and thus appeal to the nature lover more forcibly than the denizens of less romantic regions. The mountains attract at excry season of the year— in winter, when their corries are buried deep undi r thoir snowy covering ; in spring, when tliis snowy mantle has been broken by t!ie strengthening sun, aided by soft breezes from the sou h ; and in summer, whin an occasional snowfidd imgering here pv.i there still reminds one of the winter that is past, but when the corries are clotlicd with grass of an exquisite green. It i-i Ciuring the first da . ^ of August that we make a vi-it to the hills. The heat wave has broken, and the weather is unsettled, though giving promise of better tilings to come. For some days past a mild breeze from the south has been blowing, and under its genial influence the remaining fields of snow arc rapidly diminishing. It is earlv morning as we leave the shelter where we have been staging overnight. The sun has just risen, and shines brighi^ly on the high ground to the westward, though the pass is as yet in twilight. Thunder showers the night before have cleared off the haze, and the mountains around us stand out with wonderful sharpness in tiie early morning light. During the hours of darkness a herd of stags have come down to the riverside, and as we open the door ot our shelter we find them grazing scarce lOO yards from us. Evidentl}' they are taken by surprise, for at lirst li 2 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS they show no inclination to move, but havin^j roaliscd that their arch-i^nciny, man, is in suih rlosi- {)ro.\wnity, they set oil in a mad rush, and d<> nt-t ()ausi. until the rivir is crossed and they have climbed some distance up the hill-side opposite. Our way first leads up a stoop corric, down which rushes a swift mountain burn, and in tho soft sunlit,'ht every blade of grass stands out a vivid green. The corrie is rich in plant life, and we come across several white-flowered specimens of the cross-leaved heath {Hnca trtralix). The cow-wheat {Melam- pyrum sylvaticnui) still shows its delicate blossoms in fa\oured situations, and we meet with at least two Alpine forms of the stag-horn moss. We surprise a fox on an early morning prowl, and the marauder crosses our path with easy stride ; his tail is held erect, and this gives him a sonu what unusual appearance. The top of the corrie reached, we have a gradual ascent until a height of some ^,(xx) feet is reached, when we call a halt and wait for some time on a slope covered with " scree," where the snow bunting has his home. In the earlier part of the summer the male bird is in almost continuous song from I A.M. until late afternoon, but now the nesting season is over he is silent, and though we watch the nesting site carefully, we are unable to see any traces of the birds. The sun now shines with some power, and the breeze from the south-west is, even at this altitude, soft and pleasant. Descending to the burn which drains the corrie, we come across a ptarmigan's nest built on a tiny " island " of vege- tation in the midst of acres of granite boulders. The young birds have left the nest, in which remain only the broken egg- shells to show that it has been in use this season. The nest of the ptarmigan is a very rudimentary structure, and is sometimes devoid of any lining; but in this instance the parent bird made use of some lichens which happened to be growing only a foot from the nesting hollow. It is on the opposite hill-side that we come across the first ptarmigan with young. She has only two chicks, which are just able to take wing, but after flying a few yards they drop and hide amongst .some stones. We have recourse to low cunning in order to call up the parent bird to obtain some photographs of her. A few plaintive whistles soon bring her towards us, and as the whistling still continues, motherly anxiety conquers fear THE MOUNTAIN CHARM 3 and the bird runs round us in prrat distress. VV'c keep up the deception a little longer, and the ptarmigan ventures to within a few feet, utte.ing croaking cries of distress, and often opening her bill wide with anguish. After a time, however, she begins to realise that she is being imposed uponi and we move off, having obtained a number of photographs.' f-rom the toji of the ridge we have an ( \-.:ell<-nt view'^of the etfrnal snowfu hi lying in a sheltered currie at the head of the Garbhchoire. The field is as yet unbroken, and is some 2CO yards in extent. The rocks, to within a few yards of til.- snow line, are bright with buttercups, while below the drilt are mosses of the brightest green, watered by the stream of water emerging from the snow. A short distance west of the corric another snowfield of enormous proportions is formed every winter, but lies in an exposed position facing south-west, 'and for this reason melts rapidly. At the time of our visit it is only some ;o or So yards long, and of nc great depth, though in early June the depth was estimated at 40 feet and the length at 500 yards. On the surface of the snow a wheatear runs about actively m search of flies, and we note the marks of deer w' ' have gone to the field to escape the unwelcome attentiu, f the "cleg " fly during the hot wcath. r. We are now nea.. ig the Wells of Dee, and make a slight detour to where the river issues from the ground at a height of close on 4,000 feet above sea level. There are two springs within a short distance from each other, each of which discharges a considerable quantity of water ; so the Dee, even at its source, is a fair-sized bum On either bank is excellent grass, and we discover many feathers of the ptarmigan, and also one from a golden eagle Footmarks of the deer are everywhere, for the feeding here IS good, and the stags are constantly crossing the plateau from one forest to another. The weather has now chan^red for the worse, for the wind has backea and heavy clouds "are crossing the hills, blown before a gale from the south. We make our way to the northern extremity of the plateau, and look down on Loch Coire-an-Lochan, the highest loch in Britain, which lies at a height of 3.. o feet above the level of the sea. A small burn, having its source on the plateau, falls over the precipices which tower above the loch on its 4 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS southern side, and oflors a conspicuous mark from tlie valicy of the Spry. To-day. howt-vrr, the wvathcr northwards is extremely hazy, and the houses of Avicmore can h<' made out with difTiriilty. \Vc remarked earlier in the day on tlic small amount of snow on the hilh to th.- west. Ben Alder, a hill on which , seemed to have less snow than usual. Tlie haze is now too thick to distinguish any distant oh|»ct, Init fnari the summit of Hraenach, .{.-\)S feet above sea level, we have, across the (iarhhchoire, a very fine view of Lochan I 'aine f^hc green 1- instance we come upon a cock grouse courting a hen bird ; he 6 WHERE THE PTARMIGAN NESTS 7 is so absorbed in displaying his beauties to the somewhat unresponsive hen that he is quite unaware of our presence until we are close upon him, and we obtain an excellent view of him as he walks slowly through the heather with outspread wings. The beautiful avern {Kubits chanicrmorus) is rapidly pushing its shoots above ground, and in a short time the whole hill-side will be covered with its delicate white flowers. After crossing a ridge, we flcscend into a corrie, down which a mountain bum dashes to join the larger stream which drains the glen. At on- puint we strike a narrow gorge, and fr(,m a ledge on the rv>ck a hen kestrel soars out with the morning sun full on her plumage. With a little difficulty we obta-n a view of her somewhat primitive nest, in which three much- bespeckled eggs are lying. A photograph of the nest is secured after a certain amount of difficulty, but the hen bird does not show herself wliile we are in the vicinity. Having crossed the glen, we have in front of us the giant bulk of the hill on whose plateaux the ptarmigan have their home, and on the higher corrie^ extensive snowfields are still lingering, in spite of tile warm sou'-westers which have lately been blow- ing. The heat is now intense, but a cool breeze blows up from an easterly point, while to the westward gathering clouds seem to prophesy a coming storm. Through the glass we see, <;in the snowfields, numbers of stags either stand- ing or l>ing full length, for red deer are very sensitive to heat, and are always ready to resort to the snowfields whenever the weather is at all warm. We note that the number of hoodie crows in the neiglibourhood must be considerable, for we repeatedly come across the sue! .d eggs of grouse, which tiie hoodies have carried tc some spring or streamlet to enjoy at their leisure. Why the hoodies should always take an c^g to wat-r is somewhat obst'.ire, for an egg is such a liquid form of nourishment that one would imagine .t would present no difficulties of manipulation to the artful hoodie. Possibly, however, the thief tests his booty at the water and rejects it if not fresh. As we reach the first snowfield we have an excellent view of a spixies of hawk which is soaring above us at an immense height. We surmise it to he a peregrine, but at the distance it is quite impossible to do anything but conjecture as to its 8 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS identity. At the top of the corrii', and close on 4,000 feet above sea level, is a massive roek of granite, which offers a conspicuous mark for many miles arc nd, and on its summit v.e see a small, dark object. Through the glass this resolves itself into the form of a golden eagle, and this noble bird, as he stands on his point of vantage, makes a curiously effective picture, for the sun strikes full on his feathers and transforms him into a gulden eagle in very truth. He docs n.:.t await our closer approach, however, 'for while we are still a mile fruni luin h.e h-,s spre.:d his wings and vanisiied over the ridge to the north. We find, shortly after reaching the 3,()CHi feet contour, unmistakable signs of a recent snow- storm, whieh wc imagine mu-.t have destroyed the nests of any plarmigan which were brooding at the time, but on t;ie edge of a bog which marks the source of one of the mountain bir is we flush a cock ; ' .rmigan, who resolutely refuses to leave the neighbourhood. He flics round the locality in circles, or runs along croaking excitedly the vxhile, and we have every reason to suppose his mate is brooding somewhere near, but a long-sustainrd and careful search fails to discL.se the whenv.bouts of the nest. As wo reach the higher grounds we Imd a considerable amount of new snow, showing' that a heavy storm has i)e(^n experienced on the liill, and we tear tiiat every ptarmigan's nest must have been destroyed, for th.e birds are nearly all in pairs, and fly right away when flushed. Carpeting the ground are many plants of the moun- tain azalea {AcaL-a frocumbens), and their delicate red flowers stand out in striking contrast to their sturdy xerophytic leaves. The flowers of this little plant seem to be formed the previous summer, for they appear on the hills only a very short time after the winter snow-cap has vanished. The plateau we arc traversing is several miles in length, and on its south- western extremity several giant worts arise. They are formed of granite, and while the rest of the hill has been weathered away, these rocks have withstood tlic violence of the v.inter storms, and are ,^0 or 40 feet above their surroundings. In their vicinity we find several large flat boulders, in whicli curious basin-shaped hollows have been worn. In places these are of considerable depth, ar.d are half-full of rain-water. It has been stated that these hollows have been worn by WHERE THE PTARMIGAN NESTS 9 the action of small stones which have accumulated in the natural depressions of the rocks, and have been violently blown ruiind the hollows by the action of the wind, thus forming- in the course of many years the deep cavities which now aimost invariably contain water. Our view from the summit is an extensive one. To our west Ben Muich Dluii, and to its right Cairngorm, still carry a heavy coating of snow, and south-wcst Jkinn a' ghlo (the TTiouiitain of the mist) stands out with great clearness ; while in the valley beneath us the Avon hurries down from its source in dark l.och Avon to meet the Spey below Tomantoul. We have scarcely started on our return jounu)- when wc hear in front of us the soft whistle of the dotterel, and as we are i.xtremely an.xious to ol)tain photographs of the nest, we lie prostrate on the ground and await events. The dotterel always a curiously tame bird — soon approaches, and runs around us in an agitated manner, every now and again slopping short and jerking its head with a characteristic motion. Apparently it is a hen bird, but shows no signs ot returning to its nest, so we concludo that either the eggs have not yet been laid or else the nest iias been destroyed by the recent storm. As we re-cross the plateau the burns are m many places still running beneath their v.int(^r coverin" c: snuw and ice, and around us the ptarmigan are croaking as Wc trespass on their domains. The sky is clouding, and as we pause before dtscending to the low grounds a view of extraordinary beauty is seen towards tlie north-west. In every other direction the sky is clouded, but here the sun— now low on the horizon— lights up the Ross-shire hills with superb effect. And now we leave this scene of grandeur and make for the valley !>■ neath. Here, in spite of the warmth, the birches are scarce siiowing a single leaf, though the grass, cropped short by the red deer, is of the most delicate green. Hoodie crows arc nesting in some of the birches, and from one of these trees we hear tlie cry of the cuckoo, sounding exception- ally clear in the still evening air. A wheatear, too, is in song, and a mountain blackbird pours out his clear, rich song —^- "f-ng which is essentially of the hills— vvild and passionate, and abounding in long-drawn, plaintive notes. CHAPTER III EARLY jrNE ON THE CAIRNGORMS Aftlr Ihcir lon;^' winter sleep, wliirii lasts from Octohpr until mid-May, spring and sninnicr join tngctluT on the lofty plat<>aux of the Cairn.:^.>rrn hills, and the snow disappe.trs as if by mai;ic, dr fts lin<,'erinjj onl\- in tlie most sheltcrL'd corrics away from wind and sun. It is on a perfect summer morninj^ during; the first days of June that wo l>'ave Aviemon- and make cur way up to Loch Lunach— lyin;^ between IJraeriach and Sgorran dubii — at a heifjht of some _\(^h) fi-ct above sea level. As wc drive u[) the side of the Bonnie the glen is lookintj at its best. C)n either side countless blaeberry i)lants are covering- the ground with their loaves of the most doHcafi- green ; and the bracken, too, is wonderfully advanced, for its fronds are well opened, and in some cases have already reached a considerable hoij,dit. The silver birches are at their best, and in marked contrast to their delicate foliaj^^e, weather- beaten pines extend to the limits of tree .[growth and raise their gnarled and twisted trunks to the sunli,<,dit. Sii,nis of life are scarce. A kestrel follows us for ^.ome way, and a few j,'rouse are flushed, while an occasional gull sails past with graceful movcnieiit. We have occasion during the drive to remark upon the absence of snow in the corrie^ of Jkaeriac!-. On'\- in Coire-an-I.ochan are the sn^nvUelds at all extensive, and some of the corries arc already quite clear. Loch Eunach reached, we leave the road and follow- the liill patii leading to Braeriach. A strong southerly wind IS sweeping down from tiie loch, the waters of which arc wondcriully clear in the strong sunlight, and we note the fact that in some {)art. of tlie loch the water appears of a deep green colour, due, .ve iiDaginc, to the reflection from tiie bottom. At a height of 2,500 feet we meet the first ptarmigan. 10 m ■'Si! "J EARLY JUNE ON THE CAIRNGORMS n Uc IS a cock bird, and flies off, croakinj? loudly. Doubtlrss lie has a mate brooding: in the vicinity, but wc push on, and soon reach the top of the corrie and the western plateau of Bracnach without havin- crossed snow once. The beautiful cushion pink is in full bloom, and large patches uf flowers of various shades of crimson and pink carpet the ground from a height of 3,000 feet upward. They are at least a fortnight before their time, for it is usually late in the month before their delicate flowers cocn on these exposed uplands. Having reached th. plateau, we skirt the side of the hill and bear in a south-easterly direction towards Cairntoul. Here we have a stiff wind against us, and the temperature has fallen rapidly. We come to an immense fi.-id of snow quite 5ough the cushion pink flourishes quite i,(x>, feet hic^her n Ihe Corrour come vegetation is far advanced, and" the Llaeberry plants are giving off their delicious aroma in 12 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS the cool of this summer evening. We are somewhat sur- prised tu tind, only ^.cxx) feet above sea level, quite an extensive wreatli of snow covermj,' tlu' burn. The yor^^c is here deep and narrow, and a .'^'reat amount of snow is drifted into it durinj^ the winter storms — one of which we have every reason to reinembi r in tiiis particular corrii-. Though close on ten o'clock it is still broad claylij,'lit, and the rushintj of the Uee strikes pleasantly on our ears as we picpare to take v.liat shelter we can in rji:r somewhat ( xposed surroundmgs. We are wakened at daybreak by the call m.'tes of ihe grous.', ,ina imd a large herd of stags grazing just across the river. The ri^in;,i- sun ligi.ts up Cairntoul, but as yet is hidden Ironi us uncii-r the shelter of Cairn-o'-Mhaim. Not a breath oi air stirs, and all is still, save for the yelp of an eagle high i:]. anu.ng tl:.- rocks of the Devil's Point. Cairn- toul is v.ondertull) tree of snow — only uni: or twd strong wreaths linger on lii .■,tony slopes— and at the head of the Ccrr(>ur face the snowlu his are considerably less than they \vere in niid-Jul\^ tiie prcviou.s season, while the well-known drift cm the east ol Jiracriach, immediately above tiie Pools of Dee, is also remarkably small. As we commence the steep ascent to Cairntoul the sua is saining with great brilliance, but heavy clouds gathering ever J5en .Muich Dhui seem to prophesy, even at this early hour, a com'.ng storm. Numerous cock ptarmigan ar.- Paislied, and we discover a hen bird sitting on her m.st. S,.. confident is siic that we are enabled to erect :•. cairn only a few feet from her, and set up the camera on this impruvisrd stand. The ptarmigan sits motionless as a statue, and wc are enabled to secure several photographs oi her without causing her to lea\e the nest. On a rock some fifty yards away the cock bird croaks anxiously for some little time, but his mind seems soon .set at case, and he preens ins feathers cunteiUedly as v.e take the photographs of his mate. The haze has now cleared away, and a bracing wind straight from the Atlantic sweeps over the plateau as we make for the Angel's Peak. Here, midway between Cairntoul and Braenach, an extensive view of the Garbhchoire i:- obtained, and we arc interested in comparing tlic amount oi snow iiuw in the corric to that in preceding seasons. For the early EARLY JUNE ON THE CAIRNGORMS 13 part of Juno the corrie is singularly clear. Wc remember, on June !(,, 1910, lookmg over the corrie and noting that the infant D.c was running beneath the snow for a considerable distance. Now, however, though a fortniglit earlier in the year, the river is clear the whole length of the corrie, and is partially hidden by snow only where it falls over the nxks of Braenach, at a height of nearly 4.oc)0 feet above the level of the sea. The western extremity of the corrir— the Fuar (.arbhclioirc— still carries several extensive snowfields • but tins c.rrie is, perhaps, the most arrtic of any on the Cairn- gorm mountains, and has nev.-r, within living memorv, been known to be cn,np!eteiy free of snow, even at the end of the hottest suinmer. Looking back. Monadh Mor. to the southwards, has manv snow-wreaths in its sheltered corries. and through the -lass we can see deer standing or lying on the snow, where "thev base taken rcluge from the intense heat of the sun. In the distance the southern Grampians stand out sharpU- ,n the c.ear air._ Glas Maol-on the boundaries of Aberdeenshire and Pertnshire-is recognised by ,ts characteristic horseshoe snow dri;t, out the drift has greatly dwindled-in fact is already 01 less extent than when we visited tiie hill in mid- July (.1 i.jio. i-_verywhere we notice the same thing, and even Len Ai(.er. to the west, carries exceptionally little snow Ben Aevis 15 mist-capped, and the hills towards .Skxe are also co%-ered by a mist which is sweeping in from the Atlantic. On a hill to tlie far south-west an enormous heather fire 13 raging. The whole hill is enveloped in a dense pall of smoke, v^!lK•h is blown in a cloud for manv miles to leeward and wc imagine that great havoc is being wrought amon-st t.'ie nests and newly-hatched joung of the grouse. We now striK..; westwards, and soon reach the head of Loch Eunach whir^i sparkles brightly in the sunlight. On the tableland which nur.ks the licad of Glen Feshie an immense herd of deer are grazing for the gra.s on the high grounds i-^ exceptionally lar io.'w.rd, and even at this altitude is showing up a rich green. ° ' As we descend towards the loch we lose the fresh w .d, and tae .leat is intense We note that quite a large snow- wreata, winch we marked during our ascent, has completely X4 THH CHARM OF THE HILLS disappcnrrd, and tliat the water of the l)urns is qiiitc trpid, except wh'rr it lias just issued from a snowficld. As we reach Lch-'i luinacli heavy eh uds arc swoopinff up from the West, and are just skimming,' t!ie snninnt ..f Hraeriach ; but of the lr.n;,'-lc.okcd-f()r rain there is little .,r no sif,m, and as wc drive down the },'len hy the r-ide <>i the Bennie the sun once more asserts itself and shines on the snowy corric of Cairnf^orm, lightint,' up the extensive tnowfield with brilliant cfTect. CHAPTER IV AT TflE HAUNTS OF THE EAGLE ^yT''V/'\ ^'''^'"^ '" fhc wildest and most exposed regions of the IJijihlands. the golden eagle is one of our first birds to commence nesting operations, and as early as tl.e end of January the h.rds are collecting material to repair the old eyrie, or dse are busily engaged in constructing a new one in uj- after a very frosty New Year, the weather suddenly changed for the better on January S. and on that day we noted a pair ol eagles soaring round their eyrie. On revisiting he locality on April ,; the keeper informed us that he had seen the hen bird sitting nearly three weeks previously, and haa also seen the cock alight on the top of the rock whore the cyric is situated. This particular eyrie is very cunningly placed under the shelter of a projecting rock, and cannot b^ e'n t'o se' t "' ''%"' °' ^ ^"^^ ^ '" ^-*- >^ ^ ^^^P^^^^^^ even to ec the eggs from any pomt of vantage. The mornrng me ;:;^;r rT ''V^^^V' ^^^ ^^'"^ -- exceptZuy fine, with a cloudless sky and very warm atmosphere, so we had no fears as to the results of the eagle's enforced Absence from her egg.. We had hoped to obtain a snapshot of "he hen as she rose from the nc^t. and for that purpL crept up cautiously until within a few yards of the eyrT and h- s^^d ^and whistled, thinking the bird wo^L^^diJ^;; see mtC'^tr "'? "° ''^"' "^ ^'^'' '^"^ ^^ ^^'^ ^°"'d not actually s into the nest, we surr,..:sed that the hen was off feeding and in' Th""' °" ' ^^"^^"""^ P^^^ ' ' '^^^ '^Hff. howevef' and in such a position that the use of the came a was an impossibility. tJie eagle sailed leisurely off the eTr e and Z the opportunity of a photograph was lost She 'app- Ted " be an old bird, judging from the lightness of her colour -g. and soared off till she was a nfere speck in th^ sky 15 z6 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS After trying vainly U> roach tlic ryric from two point.s, wc made mir way to a very old nest of the fork-taiKd kite which has now bfcomc qmic extinct, so far as Sii>llanii li concerned, and U was very interestni^' to see that althou^'li the nest had not been tenanted fnr (luitc thirty year^, yet it still seemed in perfect orrl-r, as thoii-h rei)aired regularly every season. Tlu' district wo were visiting Ivjasis ol a good number of eagli's' e>rie.= , so the following,' day we set out to try to discover a m -t v. Iii.li was v\e had reason to Iii'Iievo, situated on the otiier side ol the valley, m an ancient lir tree. The .ceather liatl ciiipleteiy clianf^cd, and instead of finding,' briidit sun and warm breezes, we iiad to li.ijht our way ai;ainst a stronj,' northerly wind, with squalls of snow and hail. We Iiad iluibts a., to the eyrie biin.<; occupied, as the previous season the hen liird had been fcund diad on the nest, with part of her bill broken ri-ht away- although whether tiiis was actually the cause of death it would bo difficult to sa\— and when the tree was reach, d, the eyrie was found to be (luite desert.'d, with great numbers ol the unlucky birds (catlier., still clinging to the slicks of whuh the nest was composed. When near the e)rie the cock bird came sweeping ocer the brow of the hill, and on catcliing sight of us immediately bo'■^"ln to rise against tiie wind. Higlier and higher he sailed. and it was wonderful to sec how lie ascended witli wings practically laotionless. utilising tiie wind in a marvellous way. In the space of five minutes he had n -en to an extraordinary heiglit, and when some passing clouds came across, it was noticed that lie had ri.-en a good distance above thorn. By this time he looked no biggiT th.an a lark, and ultimately became f]r.it-: invisi:!'..-, having reached a height of perhaps 3,(XK) feit aliove the gion. Xorthward from the ncst, which was situated in the topmost brandies of a pine, at a height of about i,8c.. . feet above sea level, the heather gradually became oblit'-rated by the heavy orcering of snuw, and the hill-top, son.e 4, OCX) feet high, appeared dimly through the mist, while bonding clouds oi " spindrift " were swept across the plateau belere the gale. Some miles to the north-west of the eyrie referred to is situated one of the highest-placed eyries in Scotland. It is THi; IIOM1-. Ol THl- 1 AG I I- I HI I Ai,l 1 s MOMI IN MAk( II Ul/i,t>l- i^jad'Sl,, AT THE HAUNTS OF THE EAGLE 17 built on a lofty precipice, at a height of more than 3,o ice s1o[ks. Never before had we experienced such a blizzard, und it war, calruiatcd tliat f^;' wind was blowing at the rate of a mile a minute at the lowest estimation. At times there would he a sudden lull for a few minutes, and then we could see the ptarmigan running on the snow slopes and hear them calling weirdly to each other. It was cxtieniely interesting to watch their behaviour when the blizzard suddenly swept down upon them. They were evidently quite used to the storm, and as the gale reacJied them they squatted low on the snow, and even ran against the wind, crouching low all the time. We also noted a fox making off at our approach. He did not seem to be in the least hurr\ , but trotted slowly away, glancing now and again over his shoulder. Suddenly, however, when quite 200 yards .i; i8 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS from us, he seemed to be greatly alarmed, and went off at top speed. Althouf^^h the snow never actually ceasi d, we had some exceedingly hne views of the towering criigs above us when the drift lessened, and across the valley could soe now and again the hills to thf east, with the sunlight on their snow- covered slopes. I pon reaching the head of the glen we found the storm raging here with tremendous force, and the ice-bound loch looked wild and desolate, with its fartlier shores hidden by the mist. To proceed farther was quite useless, as an extensive plateau had to be crossed before the eagle's nesting site was reached ; so we reluctantly had to turn back and put off the expedition until more favourable weather conditions obtained. The descent of the corrie was a very simple matter, but care had to be exercised owing to the snow in places being covered by a sheet of hard ice. We had some good glissading, and it was a strange sensation to go down the hiil-side with a roaring gale blowing at our back, and everything blotted out by the blinding snow. At the lowrr cxtreniity of tlie glen the weather was mucii milder, and tlie snow comparatively soft, while large herds of deer were grazing on the grass at the edge of the burn. The last and most pleasant day of our outing was the ascent of Ben Avon (3,81x5 feet), and for the climb we had quite perfect weather conditions. Even on the low ground the weather was extremely wintry, and from 2,000 feet up- ward we had continuous frost and snow. Just below the snow-line we came upon a clump of birches where several pairs of hoodies were nesting. In one of the nests a single egg had been laid, but it was as yet rather early to find the birds sitting, although wo netted several of them lazi;)' tlap- })ing their way across the glen. Making our way along the Quoich, we had Beinn a' Biuiird in front of us, with Cam Eas— bearing a huge cornice of snow — to our right. Every burn v.as covered with a snow bridge, and some of these bridges were (juite 30 feet in height, a good deal of the snovv having been drifted in the day before. During th- early hours of the ciimb there had been snow squalls, but by the time the summit of Ben Avon was reached the weather was magnificent, with a bright sun and only a slight wind. As we were crtjssing the plateau on tlie sumniit we saw an AT THE HAUNTS OF THE EAGLE 19 I I e ca^le hij^'li abovr us — a dark sptck against the deep blue sky— soaring lci>iircly ac^ainst the wind. Doubtless he was the mate of the bird sittiiifj in the \allcy below us, as distance is nothing to the kint^ oi birds, who can tly ten miles in as many minutts, and that without any apparent effort. hroin the sun)niit of the hill we had a very fine view in every direction V. 'st, the Cairngorms were just cloud-capped, and northwar 1-. we mad': . ut die Speyside hdls and the Moray I'irth, with ' , e .Xvun vail } just beneath us. To the south the view was . .e. sally stnl;aig, with Lochnagar and Beinn a' Ghlo very promineni ; •> liilc eastwards Benachic was easily made out, and the whole range of the Grampians from Loch- nagar down to Cairn- mon-Earn. The giant rocks on the summit of Ben Avon were thickly crusted with snow and ice, and behind each a deep wreath had been formed. Descend- ing by Carn Eas, we had an easy walk back to the valley of the Dee, and as we were nearing Ikacmar, Lochnagar was looking more picturesque than we had ever before seen it, with its cairn standing out in the rosy light of tiie setting sun, while the rest of the hill in shadow was of a cold, greyisli white. The nearer hills, plentifully streaked with snow, wert .ilso looking extremely beautiful, and in the fore- ground the winding Dee reflected the deep blue of the evening sky, flocks of oyster catchers whistling on the river banks as they took up their station for the night. m CHAPTER V THROUGH THE LARIG GHRUAMACH BY NIGHT Of all the Hi<,'hland passes, there is perhaps none that appeals to us 50 slronj^ly as the lamuus Larig Ghru (the forbidding passj, which links Avieiiiore with Braemar. We had often explored its curries during the hours of daylight, and a short time ago deterimned to make an expedition by night through its rocky fastness. Arriving at Aviemore one glorious summer afternoon about live o'clock, we drove to where the road ends on the outskirts of the iamous Rothiemurchus horest, and the Lang proper commences. The evening was an ideal one. As we made our way through the forest the Ciiirngorms stood out sharp before us in the sunlight, and we remarked on the amount of snow lying in the curries of Braeriach. On Cairn- gorm itself only a tiny patch was visible, and our driver informed us that at the eorr.. spoil ling season of last year the hills were carrying considerably nujre snow. Scon we forded the Druic burn — a by no nK is easy undertaking owing to recent heavy rains — and shortly after 6 P.M. reached the end of the driving road and started out on our walk. Scarce a breath of wind stirred the birches in the forest, and the midges soon began to make themsc-lves unpleasant, but as we reached the higher ground a fresh breeze from the south swept down on us from the summit of the pass, and in its coolness we made more rapid progress. Before us stood the Lurcher's Craig, and farther up the pass we could make out the infant Dee, where, after rising on the plateau of Ben Muich Dhui, not far from the source of the Avon, it plunges down the side of the hill, and after running underground for some con- siderable distance, emerges by the Pools of Dec. This is one of the sources of the royal river; the other rises on the plateau of Braeriach, and is known as the Garbhchoire until it joins the first-mentioned str^ am at the base of Cairntoul. As 20 THE LARIG GHRUAMACH BY NIGHT 21 wc fjaincd the hicjher grounds the heather, which had hitherto b«-n truly magnificent, began to show the cfTccts of the severity ither, and we noticed that a heavy bank of mist of the weat was h iging low over the top cf the pass. The sun was now setting behind the hills to the north-west with beautiful effect, and a dark thunder-cloud near the horizon was lit up a rosy red in its lays. Hill upon hill rose up out of the north and north-west as far as the eye could see, and nearer at hand the valley of the Spcy stood out clear and sharp in the evening air. Dusk was falling ere wc reached the summit of the pass, and the mist was less than 100 feet above us, hut the wind had died away, and the air was warm and intensely still. A wonderful view was obtained, looking back to the north, the mist acting as a curtain and disclosing now and again the Ross-shire hills standing sharply out in the afterglow ; but to the south the view was indistinct. Walking now became difficult, and the path was often missed for a few yards. During one of these digressions wc came across the nest of a ptarmigan, from which, of course, the young had been hatched some time previously. This had some slight interest, for while crossing the path in June the writer felt confident from the behaviour of a cock bird in the vicinity that a n .st must be hereabouts, but was unable to locate it. The Pools of Dec were reached as the twilight was deepening, and here wc rested for a few minutes while we admired to the full the grandeur of the scene spread out before us. Not a ripple disturbed the surface of the Pools, save where a trout her,; and there rose to the surface or darted out from the shallows, and in the distance the deep note of water rushing down the hill-side fell pleasantly on the ear, while all around us watchful ptarmigan kept up a guttural croaking. In the uncertain light Cairn- toul (4, .241 feet) presented a very fine sight, with mist wreath- ing its lower slopes, and the summit standing out sharply against the night sky, and as we descended alongside the Dee the Garbhchoire came into view, swathed in a thin, filmy mist. On Bracriach the mist extended to within lOO feet of the summit, but Ben Muich Dhui was now quite clear, and a star of considerable brilliance just topped the ridge to the north-east with startling effcx:t. It was now close on eleven, THE CHARM OF THE HILLS and the darkness intense, so that pro;,'ress was necessarily very slo\\. Near the Corrour b^thy we walked nito a flense mist, which extended right down to the river's edge. ve 'icterinincd to spend the night v n the hill-side — no gre;; .rd- ship with a ttnipcrature uf weii o\er Co degrees, and not a breath of wind. About 6.30 we rose, to find the sun flooding the glen, and Caimtoul char of mist to the base. On the Devils Point (i,^');^ feet) and Cairn a' Mhaim wisps of mist still clung to the hill-sides, hut soon they too were dispersed by the power of the sun. To the south and east, however, the fog could be seen l\ing close and thick over the c(Hintr)side, but here, m this wild giiii, the wcallier was perfect, the scent of the heather and the delightful fresliness of the morning air having a most plcising and exhilarating effect. On Hen .Muicli Dhiii the large snowfield which had been pil'd up during th'- winter montiis in the southern corrie had now iKvuullcd until it was little more than a speck on the lull side, and we imagined that a fortnight of fine weather would see it disappear altogether. On I^raeriach (4,24s feet) several fields of snow still lingered— one at the low altitude of under J.o.jo f et t — but they were none of them at all e.xtt nsive, e.xcept ihc well-known field at the western extremity of the (iarbhchoire. In climbing to a higher level, to obtain a more extensive view, we put up a hen ptarmigan with her young, and so fearless was the parent bird that she allowed us to approach to within a few yards. In the neighbourhood we flushed several other pairs — apparently barren birds, which had had their eggs or young destroyed by a heavy snow- storm during the last few days of June. In the distance a herd of stags could be made out grazing on the hill-side, and the animals seemed to be in excellent condition, and already almost clear of velvet. One very old stag, without any horns, was grazing by himself on the outskirts of the herd, and we could not but pity his apparent loneliness. When the herd moved off up the hill-side this veteran found it impossible to keep pace with the rest, and followed them with great difficulty, with more than one pause for breath. Crossing a rocky gorge we came upon a ledge of rc>ck where a golden eagle was in the habit of perching for hours and scanning the corrie beneath. Feathers of all sizes were lying THE LARIG GHRUAMAGH BY NIGHT 23 1! on the leci^c, and the smallest ones were scarcely half an inch long, coming, probably, from the neck of the king of birds. Ca tings were also there in plenty, and one of these contained, amongst other things, the bill of a ptarmigan and a piece of egg-shell, besides numerous bones and feathers of various kinds. As we rounded the shoulder of Cairn a' Mhaim a very fine view ot Glen Gcusachan was obtained, with Monadh Mor in the background. Monadli Mor, for its height (i,(>ii feet), carries perhaps more snow than any other of the Cairngorms. To Its west is an extensive plateau slopi g towards the Feshic, and, blown by a westerly gale, the snow is whirled across this phteau, and forms in an immense field on the east slopes of the hill. An old stalker once told me that while engaged in a deer drive on this hill he cune across a Cairngorm of extra- ordinary size, but as he was in a great hurry— for his late Majesty King Edward was one of the guns — he had no time to break it off the rock. He imagined he would be able to find the spot again, but though, he informed me, he had looked for many years, he had never been able to redis- cover the spot. He was of opinion that the burn near which he saw the stone had altered its course, and so the rock had been covered over with sand. To-day as we looked up the Geusachan to Monadh Mor, the snow wreaths were glistening in the clear sunlight, and the precipice on Ben Bhrotain was specially clear. During the latter part of our walk Lochnagar and, farther east, Mount Keen were conspicuous objects, until at Derry Lodge the valley shut out the view. A short dis- tance below the lodge we had the pleasure of seeing a lordly peregrine falcon soaring over some lofty firs in Glen Derry, while a little farther on a red-breasted merganser with her brood splashed heavily down the burn, th- youngsters progressing at a great speed by using their half-formed wings as paddles. As Braemar was reached the weather was changing— a dark leaden haze spreading over the sky from the south— and before many hours had passed the tops were shrouded in mist, and a steady, persistent rain commenced to fall. CHAPTER VI BEN MUICH L>HUI AND LOCH AVON For long Ben Muich Dhui — (according to some "The Hill of the Black Sow," but more recently " MacDuff's Hill ")— 4.29(:) feet above sta level — was supposed to be the highest liiountain in (Jrcat Britain, but now iien Ncvis (4,4r)<) feet) has hixm given tnc place of honour. In late August, when the grass and blaebt-rry plants covering their slofx^s arc still at their best, tlic high hills have always a great cliarm, and the few wreaths of the previous winter's snow add a freshness to the hill-sides. Leaving Braeniar early in the morning, wo have a deliglitful drive up Glen Lui, but tyre troubles bring our car to a standstill, and a good deal of valuable time is lost. In the glen we pass a very old tramp, whom we take to be a Russian, and who informs us with pride that he has come through the Lang from Avie- mure, and a little farther on we meet two kilted stalkers on their way down to Bracmar. Although the barometer is high nnd rising, the morning is none too promising away to the west. On the Cairngorms the mist is rising and falling, and as we near the Derry we see Monadh'^Mor, with its snow-filled corrie. dimly through the haze, but as we walk up Glen Derry tae weather improves, and the sun shines strongly. All the burns are exceptionally low. but in spite c the long continued drought the hill-sides are wonderfully green, and the deer are seen grazing contentedly, or else moving about on the skyline. For some time wt' have a very fine view of Ben Mheadhoin (The Middle Hill) with the early morning mist resting on its slopes, and the rocks on the summit rising above the cloud. The heather on the low grounds is in full bloom, and the scent is delicious, hut as we reach the entrance to Corrie Etchachan it is not yet m blossom. 24 :\- BEN MUIGH DHUI AND LOCH AVON 25 Up to ,this point we have followed the Larig an Laoigh (The Calves Pass), which crosses to Abemethy, m the sister valley of the Spey, but now we turn westward and pass up Corrie Etchachan, keeping near the burn, which is a con- tinuance of the Dt-rry water, but is marked on the map as the Etchachan burn. On the slopes of Derry Cairngorm (3,800 feet) we note a couple of snowdrifts not much above the ^.cicjC) feet level, which at the beginning of the season must have been of very great depth. At the head of Corrie Etchachan is a favourite haunt of the ptarmigcn, and they are almost certain to be found here at every season of the year. The golden eagle, too, is often seen in the corrie, and I have watched a pair playing with each other above the summit of Ben Mheadhoin. Loch Etchachan, lying at a height of 3,100 feet above the sea, is the highest loch of any importance in Great Britain. Concerning the derivation of the word there seems to be a great deal of uncertainty, but some hold that it is a corruption of Aitaonacb — "abound- ing in juniper " — and as there are a good many bushes of this shrub in the vicinity, this may be correct. As we reach the top of the corrie we have a magnificent view of tlie loch, deep blue in the morning sun, with Ben Muich Dhui in the background. The hill as yet carries a good deal of snow, and one drift in a corrie immediately east of the summit very rarely disappears. The corrie is known as the Snowy Corrie, and on one occasion, as late as September 23, we found the drift about 30 feet deep ; to-day, so far as we can measure, it is at least 60 feet m depth. Instead of following the path straight to the summit we turn north, and make for the Shelter Stone and Loch Avon. Before us we have Cairngorm (4,08' feet), with the morning's mist as yet enveloping the summit, and at times Ben Muich D'uui is mist-capped also. In spite of the drought we notice one burn which is much larger than usual, and is over- flowing its banks, from what cause is doubtful. All at once we reach the edge of the plateau, and look down on Loch Avon (2,600 feet above sea level). This loch lies in a deep gully, being bounded to the north by Cairngorm, west by Ben Muich Dhui, and south by Ben Mheadhoin. It is over a mile in length, and exceedingly deep, while I' • 1 26 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS trout in hundreds may ottcn be sr/s Srolifus) has a spicial interest from the ornitholofjist's point of view, because of the fact that it IS the only bird we have which is peculiarly indigenous to these islands, and is met with nowlicrc else, so far ;i.s is known. It is tc)wards the end of January, if the season be mild and open, that the grouse begin to pair, and on a still, sunny day the cock birds may be seen going through all kinds of antics in their cnd(:a\(jur to win the affections of the sedate hen birds. C)ftcn — in fact, almost always — after the birds have paired winter returns to the uplands, and under the severe weather conditions the birds regather into large packs, but whether they remain paired is dilTicult to say. At all events, on the advent of spring proper the birds break up into pairs once inoro, and commence to look about for a suitable nesting site. The earlier nesting birds on the more sheltered moors commence to build during the first week in April, but the usual nesting season is May, or even June on the liigh grounds. Tlie nest is a -,hallow hollow scraped on the ground among long licather or ling, and is very rudimentary in appearance, being sninetiines scantily lined v\'th grass and heather, with a few feathers from the breast of the hen bird. The eggs are from seven to twelve in number, one being laid each day till the clutch is completed. The hen does not commence to brood until tlierc are four or five eggs in the nest, and usually co\crs her eggs with heather and grass when she leaves them. Incubation lasts about seventeen days, and during this time the cock bird mounts guard in the vicinity, and gives warning of the approach of danger. The eggs arc very beautiful, and are coloured in such a way as to harmonise in a remarkable manner with their surroundings, being of an olive ground 28 THE RED GROUSE 39 f: colour, and liberally blotched with dark reddish-brown mark- ings. I have more than once seen a grou-^e's nest built in a clump of rushes, where the hen bird sat well concealed from view. It is remarkable how a brooding groubc will sit through a storm of snow, especially if her nest be on an exposed ridge, where the snow is drifted past her. A few years ago we had an exceptionally severe fall of snow during the last few days of May, which destroyed a great many nests of those birds which were breeding on the high grouniN. There was an average depth of nearly a foot of snow above 2,ock) feet, and the drifts were many feet deep. This notwith- standing, some of the grouse nesting on the windward side of the hills continued to sit through the storm — although their eggs were completely bleached by the wet — and hatched their broods in safety. I remember flushing one bird after the storm, so weak from cold and e.xposure that she was scarcely able to lly from her nest. Grouse sit very closely, and if they consider themselvc-s well concealed will remain on their eggs until actually trodden upon by the unsuspecting intruder. It is a matter of some difficulty to obtain a photograph of a hen grouse on her nest, owing to the fact that the latter is generally in such a position as to render the brooding bird almost invisible as she crouclies low amongst the sheltering heather, and when the nests are placed on exposed hill-sidcs the parent birds will not, as a rule, permit of a near approach. The range of the red grouse is an extensive one, and altitude seems to make little difference to them. There is one healthy grouse moor that I know of situated only a few hundred yards from the North Sea, and on this moor the nesting grouse have as their companions sheldrake, eider duck, and a colony of quite lO.CXX) pairs of common terns, not to mention black-headed gulls, ringed plover, dunlin, and a host of shore-nesting birds. The terns are always very zealous of the privacy of their nesting site so far as strange bird life is concerned, and it is amusing to see the colony swoop down upon an inoffensive grouse and drive it from the vicinity in a state of great alarm. Up to 2,500 feet grouse are plentiful, but the highest level at which I have ever seen a nest was just under 3,000 feet above the sea, and on uie 30 TUF. CHARM OF THE HILLS sumiuils of our liiglicst mountains the birds are never found. The hi^,'lu^t nes'iii^' j^rouse share tin- hill •^ide with the ptar- niij;an {Liii;o/>u.\ luutus), and thr lurds occasionally inter- br(Ocl. 1 uiit c tUished a bird wliicJi apfjcarcd to be a iross between a ^Touse and a {)tarmifj.m, but, considering^ how often the two species breed side by bide, " crosses " are re- markably ran. I'he two t,'reatcst enemus of the ^^rouse arc generally considered to be the golden eagle and the peregrine falcon, but, pi r,on.illy, I do not tliink much damage is done to a grouse iiiiMir by eitlitT of these birds. Thi re is one hill — which I know intimately — on whicJi a pair of peregrines annually make their nest, and attempt — invariably without success — to rear their young. Notwithstanding the presence of the piri'grines, the moor swarm-i with grouse, and the usual birds to Ix- found at the [)eregrines' eyrie are green plover, which the falcons capture in a bog in the valley below. The golden eagle, wliile undoubtedly taking a certain number of grouse, makes no appreciable difference to the shooting on a moor, as the eagles capture the old and diseased birds in preference to those in good condition. .An eagle has more difTiculty in taking a grouse than is generally supposed, and he often misses his prey when he swoops down upon it. Tor this reason he seems to prefer mountain hares to grouse , as the former are more easy to capture. A hare, when pursued by an eagle, is in a very tight corner, and her jnly chance of escape is to hide under some rock, or in the burrow of a rabbit. A keeper once saw an eagle in hot pursuit of a liare, which ultimately gained the protection of an overhang- ing stone. The eagle now seemed at a loss for a plan of action, and walked round and stood on the top of tfie stone, in the hope that the hare would leave her shelter. This she very naturally refused to do, and after wai'.ing for some time the eagle sailed away in disgust. I have seen a grouse inadvertently alight almost on the top of an eagle which was going to roost on a heatlicr-clad hill-side. The eagle, thus rudely disturbed, flew up and swooped at the grouse, but missed his aim ana struck heavily against the ground. He thereupon flew off, and soared to a great height, being soon joined by his mate, when they both disappeared over the iiill-top. IIAI I CROWN KM) (,Kili;SK e KOlU' HI N(. VOL'N-G lil.ACK GROUSI- Till- I ot II Ol 1 111. IIJNIPI-.KS III1-. HAUNT Ol Till VVHITI- (,KOUSl- THE RED GROUSE 31 The earliest nesting grouse hatch out their chicks early in May, and by mid-June most of the birds have young. As late as August 3, however, I flushed a grouse with her brood, the latter being scarce able to take wing, and the watcher near whose bothy that particular grouse nests every season stated that she usually was sitting on eggs as late as the first week of July. When a hen grouse with small young IS disturbed she shows signs of great excitement and an.xicty, and often flies right up to the intruder, uttering a curious hissing noise. Then she flutters on ahead of him, trailing her winys as th ugh useless, in the hope of enticing him away from her ch ks. Tf the day be cold the mother bird broods her young and sits on them very closely, but in warm weather the chicks wander a considerable distance from the parent bird. At night the hen grouse leads her young to a patch of short heather, where they are less likely to be surprised by a fox or other enemy, and covers the chicks, while the cock bird sleeps a few yards away from her. The young grouse arc able to run about a few minutes after leaving the eggs, and sometimes one comes across chicks to which pieces of eggshell are still adhering — a no uncertain testimony as to their extreme youth. I once found a grouse's nest from which the young had just been hatched, and, as my camera was a few hundred yards away, I left a handkerchief to mark the position of the young birds and went back to fetch it. On my return I could find no trace of the chicks, and ultimately I came upon them nearly 100 feet away — a good instance of their extraordinary activity when newly hatched. By mid-July, if the season is a favourable one, the young grouse are strong en the wing, though as yet much smaller than the parent birds, and young and old keep together till well into the autumn, when the birds form into large packs, remaining in this state until the call of spring once more turns their thoughts to domestic cares and responsibilities. CHAPTER VIII THE MOUNTAIN SHIELING Far up amonfjst the lone mountains there stands a humble shielinjj. Built in a deep coirie which can be bright or gloomy according to the mood of the hills, the shieling stands apart, as it wore, from the world and its inhabitants, and here a stalker lives out his quiet and uneventful life. Probably without knowing it he lives as closely in touch with Nature as it is possible for man to do, and has deeply instilled into his soul the solitude and grandeur of the hills. A burn runs near the shieling. During months of summer drought the springs which give it birth dwindle until its waters are in- siL,Miificant and as clear as crystal ; but with the melting of the snows 1:he burn, now a raging torrent, hurries down the corrie with deep roar until it joins the parent stream at the foot of the glen. It is only during a part of the year that the stalker makes his home among the hills. As the storms of winter increase in violence he descends to the low country, where the snows are less severe and where there is shelter from the cruel north wind. The shieling boasts of but one room, with a large open fireplace of generous proportions. When the outer and inner doors are shut and the peat has been piled high on the fire, the stalker is wont to draw his large roomy chair near the glowing moss, and practise mournful pipe tunes on his chanter. His full-sized bagpipes he only occa- sionally brings to his mountain home, but we have sometimes heard, while crossing the glen, the wild, sad music of the hills borne to us on the fitful gusts of the wind. We know the shieling at all seasons of the year. In early June we have found shelter under its roof— at a season when there is no darkness on the hills, and when the lingering sunset m the north remains throughout the night until its place is taken by tiie light from the rising sun in the north-east. 32 THE MOUNTAIN SHIELING 33 We have visited it at midnight, when the full moon shone low in the south, flooding the pass with her rays, and have seen the formation of a brilliant lunar rainbow spanning the glen Irom side to side where the light of the moon met a shower which softly crept down the pass from the north. In the early part of summer and up to the end of June the mountain burn which flows past the shieling rushes, unseen and unheard, beneath many feet of frozen snow, for the path of the bum is marked by a deep corrie, and during the storms of winter this corrie forms a quiet resting-place for the drifting snows. From the snowy corries of the giant hill to the north we have seen, in early summer, an avalanche break and fall down the hill-side with the roar of thunder, burying deep the young grass which had only recently been freed from its winter covering. From the shieling a glorious view meets the eye to the north and south, for thus is the lie of the glen which cherishes this tiny habitation. East and west the view is limited by giant hills, over which in winter the sun peeps but for a short time daily. To the north-west the grourd slopes abruptly to well over 4,000 feet above the sea, and sometimes the lordly eagle perches for hours on a rock on the sky-line, where the setting sun tinges his plumage with red. Ptarmigan are rarely seen at the shieling. It is only when pursued by an eagle, or when a heavy fall of snow visits the corrie, that they descend to the glen, but their weird, croaking call is often to be heard on the hill-sides above. The eagle is a frequent visitor to the corrie of the shieling. His eyrie is on a crag hard by, and he may be seen almost daily circling above the glen, or driving — seemingly for mere pleasure — the ptar- migan from the hill-tops. Sometimes he is seen to rise to an immense height. On one occasion he mounted in the teeth of a northerly wind until he was quite invisible, even through a powerful glass, to the stalker below. Near the top of the corrie is a ledge of rock where the eagle is in the habit of resting, and on the ledge is a varied assortment of feathers and castings. Deer in plenty are in the corrie until the heavy snow drives them to the low ground. They are chiefly small hill stags — hinds are rarely seen — and towards October their roaring D ,. 4- ' ffi i 34 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS echoes through tlic gkn. During the darkest nights of autumn — nights when the mist hangs low on the hill and when the glen IS black as ink— the tramp of the stags sounds strangely clear and startling, and one conjures up visions of phantom stags treading, in the spirit, their beloved corrics once again. It is perhaps in autumn that the romance and poetry of the shieling are most apparent. We well remember, one October day, sighting the bothy from the mountain to the north. Here Arctic conditions prevailed, with driven snow sweeping over the exposed plateau, but in the glen all was quiet and still, and the blue smoke curling up in the evening air was a welcome sight to us after a long day on the hill. Our way to the shieling led down a steep corric, where ptarmigan in their hundreds were sheltering, and where the roar of a hill stag from time to time fell on the ear ; and as we reached the depths of the glen and wandered by the swiftly flowing burn, it was brought home to us that in the peace and solitude of the hills was that happiness which awakens all that is noblest and best in the lover of the lone places. On clear, frosty days, when the hills are snow-capped, but when winter has not as yet penetrated to the glen below, the view from the shieling towards sunset is of unsurpassed beauty. Gradually the mountain to the north changes in colour from dazzling white to the softest pink, reflecting on Its snowy expanse the last rays of the sinking sun. And then, with almost startling rapidity, the hill is again trans- formed. The rosy tints disappear, and in the twilight the mountain top assumes a blue-green colour — a colour from which the soft k'auties of sunsot have entirely disappeared, and which presents a certain cold, impassionate grandeur, without pity and yet magnificent in its sternness. At times, in clear, frosty weather, the whole of the glen is transformed, after dark, by the bright streamers of the Northern Lights. As a rul -, the electrical disturbance is con- fined to the northern skies, but at times the aurora extends from north to south and from east to west, lighting up hill and glen with its cold beams, and rivalling the moon herself in the strength of its rays. To the east of the shieling a hill rises abruptly. Towards its ba<;e it is covered with long, thick heather, but nearer the summit a belt of dark granite cliffs THE MOUNTAIN SHIELING 35 encircles the hill, and on wild nights the rushing of the westerly gale, as it strikes angrily against the barrier in its path, is often borne to us against the wind, as the booming of breakers on the shore of the ocean. On certain nights the rising moon is intercepted by the hill, and it is not until she has mounted high in the heavens that she asserts herself and floods the shieling with her light. For a while before she tops the hill her rays are seen to shoot high into the sky ; gradually the outline of the mountain becomes more and more distinct as the sky to the eastward grows in brightness until the moon herself peeps above the crest with almost startling abruptness. We remember, one glorious frosty night of iate autumn, hearing curious barking cries proceeding from the rocks high above us. The calls were quite unlike anything we had ever before listened to, and at first we imagined that some poor wounded stag was groaning in pain. But as we approached nearer w. recognised in these strange, hoarse barkings the cry of the grey crow, rendered wild and unnatural by the many echoings from the rocks above. In the stillness of the night the calls rang out curiously ghostly and unreal, and to the Highlander of old would have seemed as the broodings of a lost soul as it wandered over the mountain side. From the door of the shieling we one day marked, through the glass, what seemed to be the motionless form of an eagle perched on a rock on the sky-line opposite. Hour after hour the eagle — for we had little doubt as to its identity — stood motionless ; but when again we scanned the hill some days later we found the supposed eagle to be merely a rock which certainly bore a very striking resemblance to the king of birds. Often we sweep the hill-side to gaze upon the phantom eagle. In fine weather, when the whole hill is brilliantly lit up in the strong light of the sun, he occupies his perch ; when the rains of autumn dash upon the hill face and the wind blows with hurricane force, this bird of stone faces the storm unmoved ; and it is only when the spirit of the snows has covered hill and glen deeply in her white mantle that the eagle is lost to view, until the soft south wind breathes once more on the hill slope and frost and snow beat a retreat. I 36 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS One evening, as we watched from the bothy door, it seemed to us as though two figures were at work in the peat moss opposite. One figure appeared to be seated in the heather, while the other, in his shirt-sleeves, was standing surveying his labours. We drew the attention of the stalker to the hgures ; but a closer inspection through the glass revealed them, too, to be unrealities, though the resemblance to human beings was particularly striking. Often when the north winds of autumn bring showers of sleet sweeping through the glen we look across to the two motionless forms braving fine weather and foul without complaint, and ever engaged in their self-imposed and unending task. On one occasion, when we were at the shieling on a July afternoon of sunshine following a morning of storm and thunder, we were somewhat surprised to see, making for the shieling, but at a considerable distance from the path, tv.'o figures wrapped in long military cloaks ahd bearing heavy haversacks on their backs. Attracted by the pipe music the two strangers advanced until they were some fifty yards distant from us, when, with one accord, they removed their Tyrolese hats and. bowing repeatedly, approached the .shieling door. From their somewhat disjointed speech we gathered that they were Germans who were making a tour of Scotland, and who were now on their way to an east coast port. To every remark which wc put to them th^^ir reply was " Delighted " — a reply which caused the stolid stalker to look at them with no small surprise after a singularly inappropriate expression of pleasure on their part. The linger- ing snow-fields on the hill across the glen were a source of considerable surprise to the strangers. They were astonished, they said, to see water in such a curious position, and on being informed that what they saw was the remains of the winter snow, they were quite incredulous. The bagpipes were objects of great interest, as also was the sporran which the writer was wearing. After partaking of tea, and after the making of a short speech, in which they stated that they were "staggered by the hospitality of the Highlander," the two voyagers resumed their journey, being escorted to the track by the stalker, who throughout was courteous in the extreme. It was towards the close of a beautiful July day some THI'. MOUNTAIN SHIKI.ING il VI ■l; . ml g||»:3 THE MOUNTAIN SHIELING 37 years ago that the shieling and its inmate had a very narrow escape. Gradually black thunder clouds formed over the glen, shutting out the rays of the setting sun, which, how- ever, still shone clearly a few miles to the northward. The evening air was close and heavily charged with electricity. Not a breath of air stirred down in the corric, and the calling of the birds was stilled. Suddenly, with the noise of thunder, a cloud-burst crashed on the summit of the hill opposite the shieling, and down the hill-side a surging mass of water rushed with lightning speed, scouring a deep hollow and carrying in its mad course boulders of great size. On striking the hill-top part of the body of water rebounded into the air and again struck, though with somewhat lesser violence, on the hill face opposite. During this time the old stalker stood at the door of the shieling quite unnerved, and ex- pecting every moment that his humble dwelling would be swept away on the rush of the waters. Fortunately for him the path of the torrent cut its way a few hundred yards to the southward cf the point from where he watched, and the shieling was spared. Bird life at the shieling is somewhat rare. A few— a very ftw — grouse remain in the glen throughout the year ; but as the grouse shooting progresses and many drives take place on the surrounding moors, a certain number of fugitives enter the glen of the shieling, realising, perhaps, that here they are safe from their human enemies, though still at the mercy of the lordly eagle and the cunning fox. In autumn snow buntings twitter in the glen, feeding on the seeds of the mountain grass, and flying restlessly hither and thither over the hill- side. In summer they will nearly all set their faces north- ward, but a very few remain in the stony corries, where, at the haunts of the eternal snows, they will rear their young amongst granite "scree." A true child of the mountain is the snow- bird. His wild, whistling call-note, the charm of his tinkling song, his choice of the lone plateaux, where even the ptar- migan are but seldom met with, all stamp him as a true lover of the desolate places where he has his home. Lying as it does in the very heart of the hills, the shieling rarely sees the form of a sea-gull. In all our experience wt- have only twice known of gulls penetrating to this remote i I f1 38 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS I glen. It was early one glorious July morning that, on going to the door of the bothy, v.e greatly alarmed a mother black- headed gull with a solitary youni,' one. What had induced the parent bird to bring her oflsprmg to the corric is difficult tu say; probably they were migrating together from the nesting site seawards, and the appearance of the tiny dwelling m the midst of the hills had suggested the possi- bility of food. At all events, they remained in the vicinity fur several days, and on one occasion we observed the parent bird crossing a hill-side close on 4,000 feet above sea level, evidently Hying ti) rejoin her young. On another occasion we had been watching, througli the glass, the movements of an eagle which had been clearing the ground of its ptarmigan, apparently for tlK.- mere \ asure of the thing. After a while, tiring of this occupation, the king of birds sailed into his cyne in a rocky hill-side, and did not agaih show himself. As we watched, a little later on in the afternoon, from the shieling door, a pair of sea-gulls, flying high and steadily and evidently on migration, passed over us, their course leading them across the hill-side where the eagle had his home. We looked anxiously, expecting every moment to see a dark form shoot out from the rocks and pursue the travellers ; but we looked in vain, and the gulls, quite unaware of the proximity of danger, went on their way unharmed. Though the whereabouts of the eagle's eyrie has been known fur many years, the exact nesting site still remains a mystery, for, on account of the giant cliffs, the eyrie remains impregnable both from above and below. Some- times in the cool of a summer's morning, before the rays of the sun beat fiercely on the hill-side, we have heard borne down to us the yelping cries of the young birds, but the most careful search with the glass has failed to reveal their whereabouts. In late autumn, when the days are rapidly drawing in, and when even at midday the hills cast a shadow, it is pleasant to be aroused at dawn by the crowing of the cock grouse around the shieling. .Sometimes during the night a great outcry arises, and one realises that a fox has been detected by the ever-watchful birds. Our last visit to the shieling was at a time when winter hajti^ THE MOUNTAIN SHIELING 39 had already set his seal on the hill lands, but when autumn still lingered at the foot of the glen. As evening drew in the wind backed to south'ard, and swept up the strath in fierce gusts, blowing the smoke back down the chimney and filling the room with a dense peat reek. Rain soon accompanied the wind, and as night wore on the tempest was at its height. Though the moon was at her full, everything without was wrapped in impenetrable gloom, and the rushing of the river was hoard only during a lull in the storm. Quite a foot of snow covered the high grounds at the time, and the heavy rain, together with the melting of the snows, brought down the river in spate. Shortly after midnight the wind again shifted to west, and al>i.T a squall of snow the clouds lifted and the full moon, now high in the sky, flooded hill and corrie in her cold light. On the hill-tops she shone on an expanse of unbroken white, but to the glen the snows had not as yet penetrated, and the river, .'n its winding course, stood out a silver, rippling streak against its sombre background as we left the shieling to sleep its quiet winter sleep, secure in the keeping of the silent hills till summer comes agam to the land. -r-\f\ 'A m 11 CHAPTKR IX THE LIKE HISTORY OF THE PTARMIGAN A GLORiOL's June morning on thi' high hills! Though the day is as yet barely four hours old, the sun is already shedding his clear rays on the eastern slopes of the corrie whrrc our ptarmigan is patiently brooding on her primitive nest, hidden away amongst the fresh young grass and the trailing stems of the cowberry. During the short summer's night the dew has fallen freely, and lies in tiny drops on the ptarmigan's feaiiii rs, glistening in the sunlight with each breath drawn by the mother bird. In the valley beneath nestles a diminutive loch, over which a thin grey mist is being continuously formed. The cloud is not permitted ti) remain, however, for it is gently guided by the westerly breeze down the course of the valley, until It is caught up to the skies by the sun's warm rays. The sitting ptarmigan broods on, patient and contented, for the first part of her duty as a mother is almost completed, and in the course of the next few hours she will lead her nt wly hatched brood across to where a small spring, clear as crystal, issues from the hill-side and hurries down to the valli y beneath. From time to lime the ptarmigdn listens intently with an expression of deep satisfaction, for she hears that which is most dear to a mother bird— the soft tapping of feeble bills as they slowly, though surely, break a way through their prisons. For close on three weeks has this bird of the mo-jn- tains brooded on her clutch of eight speckled eggs, which in Bppearanre so resemble those of her relative the red grouse as to be indistinguishable except to an expert. Not alw-.ys has the weather been so favourable to her as on this midsummer's morning. At times violent storms from the south have beat on the hill-sides, and have brought with them torrential rains which have threatened to wash the eggs from beneath the mother bird. Again, there have been days when 40 ; j m 4 THE LIFF HISTORY OF THE PTARMIGAN 41 thr north wind has brought with it squalls of blinding snow, winch soon covered the high hills with a white mantle, and which threatened every moment to force the ptarmigan to leave her treasures. She succeeded in wcath<'ring the storm mainly owing to the fact that her nestinjj site happened to be on a ridge over which the snow swept in suffcnrating clouds, but, finding no resting-place, was hurried on to more sheltered parts of the hill-sidc. During one of these early June storms a great many of the ptarmigan's friends who had chosen less exposed nesting sites than the subject of this story were forced to leave their eggs in order to avoid b<'ing buried alive in the snow, and in the course of a walk over the high mountain plateaux we con- stantly came across the deserted nests of the mountain grouse. The eggs in every case had been sucked by grey crows or common gulls — both deadly enemies of the ptarmigan during the nesting season — and the bereaved parents had in several instances already contiuercd their grief, and were busily en- gaged in constructing new nests for the reception of fresh clutches of eggs. One ptarmigan, wiser than the rest, had chosen for a nesting site the shelter of an overhanging rock, and had thus escaped the storm. As the neighbourhood was infested with common gulls, which were doing an immense amount of damage to the ptarmigan's eggs, we imagine that this particular bird had chosen her unusual nesting site more with the idea of evading her enemies than of sheltering herself from the storms during the period of incubation. The ptarmigan shows a marked absence of fear during the nesting season. Whether this can be accounted for by the fact that human intruders rarely penetrate to their nesting sites is doubtful. It may be that they rely rather on their protective resemblance to their surroundings than on their powers of flight, being accustomed to avoid the keen glance of the eagle by crouching quietly amongst the rocks and lichens. The protecti%c coloration of the ptarmigan is ex- tremely necessary to them, for at their haunts there is an almost complete absence of natural cover, and, indeed, where such cover is present the white grouse rarely avail themselves of it. To illustrate the confiding nature of the mountain grouse, it may be of interest to recall an experience which we had with one of these birds a short time ago. About eight o'clock on a 42 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS Jane evening we came across a mother ptarmigan brooding on her nest on a south-lying hill slope some 3,300 feet above the level of the sea. The bird was a very confidmg one, and we were anxious to obtain some photographs of her on the nest, but owing to the lateness of the hour instantaneous piiotography was out of the question. Working as noiselessly as possible, we gradually constructed a cairn of stones within four feet of the silting bird, and, having erected our camera on this improvised stand, succeeded in taking several pictures of the ptarmigan without causing her to leave the nest ! Again, a Highland stalker informed us that he on one occasion removed an egg from under a bitting ptarmigan without disturbing the bird, and we lately heard a story of a stalker who discovered, after lunch- ing on the hill-side, that he had been sitting on a stone imme- diately above the spot where a ptarmigan had been covering her eggs, and that he had actually been dropping crumbs on to the back of the brooding bird ! It was early in the spring that our ptarmigan was wooed. Wliile the high hills were still buried deep under their snov,^y covering, and while the mountain burns were quiet beneath their heavy coating of snow and ice, a certain cock bird, n^splendent in his winter plumage, had fought many battles on her account. As yet, however, thoughts of rearing a family were out of the question, and it was not until the advent of May that the birds commenced to search for a suitable nesting haunt. Even then there was little ground on the high hills free of snow, and May was a full fortnight old when the pair chose for a nesting site a sunny bank, d'stant only a few yards from a deep, snow-<:overed gorge. For a ptarmigan's nesting site the altitude was not great — some 3,300 feet above the level of the sea — but the situation was an exposed one, and the mother bird had little to shelter her from the full force of the storms from the north and south. The construction of the nest occupied only a short time, for their home was a very primitive one, being merely a hollow scraped amongst the heath and blaeberries, and lined carelessly with a few blades of grass and mountain lichens. A few weeks before, the parent birds had commenced to lose their snowy winter plumage, the white feathers being gradually replaced by those of grey -brown tints, until the wings alone retained the colour of ■„: \ it 1 THl HOMI Oh THl. HTARMIGAN IN Mil) Al'RIt. y^ ^:%l^ r M i"' Al.'THOH A^i!; HIS TKNl' IV I'.INI- AT Tf!!- IIAtJNT Oi- TilJ' f'TAHMlGAN z. < < i r~Ej^Kiism^nr- THE LIFE HISTORY OF THE PTARMIGAN 43 the snows. On May 20 the first egg was deposited in the nest, and until the 27th of the month the hen ptarmigan visited her treasures by stealth at every dawn, depositing on each of these visits an additional egg beside its fellows. On these occasions she was always most careful to take precautions lest she were observed by any of her enemies — the marauding stoat, the cunning crow, the quiet-flying gull — but she was fortunate enough to keep her secret secure, and on leaving the nest she invariably covered her treasures with grass and lichens from the hill-side near by. On the morning of May 27 the ptarmigan's freedom was at an end. On this morning she, as usual, crept to the nest with the coming of the dawn. The cock bird was with her, and while he took up his watch on a prominent stone hard by, his wife slipped on to the nest, and with supreme content settled herself on her eggs, commencing her first period of self-denial as a mother. And so day suc- ceeded day on the high hills, and nothing occurred to mar the happiness of the mountain birds. Superb weather prevailed, and the sun shone from a sky of unclouded blue, heating up the immense hill slopes, and forcing the mother ptarmigan to slip off her nest from time to time in order to cool herself on the snow-field a few yards away. There were, it is true, moments of anxiety for the pair — when the grey crow and his mate crossed the sky line and flew slowly over the hill, on the keen lookout for such a dainty morsel as a ptarmigan's egg, and when a common gull, sailing up from the loch below, seemed as though he could not fail to mark the sitting ptarmi- gan beneath him. But the mother bird crouched low on her nest, scarce daring to breathe, and her wonderful harmonisation with her surroundings misled even the keen eyes of these experts in egg-stealing. One morning the ptarmigan saw, in the sky far above them, a dark speck sailing in circles on motionless wings. Terror filled the hearts of the mountain grouse, for they real- ised at once that the dreaded golden eagle was above them, and that he was scanning with proud and pitiless eye the hill-side far below him. Gradually the king of birds descended earthwards, and all of a sudden, closing his wings, shot down with terrific speed. This he did purposely, well knowing that the ptarmigan would be unable to stand their ground, and 1/^ i 44 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS k I would nso in a body from the hill-sidc. Our ptarmigan, how- ever, did not rise with the rest, and well was it for them that they remained crouching motionless on the ground. From every side terrified birds rose, and, croaking loudly, flew hither and thither quite aimlessly. The eagle watched grimly awhile, the.^ suddenly pursued one of the fugitives, overtaking it in a few seconds, but swerving aside abruptly when it seemed as though he would strike down the flying bird. Then, glorying m his strength, he made off in hot pursuit of another victim, enjoying what was to hiin excellent sport. The latter ptarmi- gan was not so fortur ate as its predecessor. Its most frantic efforts at escape appeared pathetically useless against the eagle's powerful flight, and it was soon overhauled and struck down by the mountain king. And then, as our two ptarmigan watched anxiously, the eagle, sailing to an immense height, dropped his now lifeless prey, and, as it fell earthwards, closed his great wings and shot with terrific speed after the mountain grouse. He regained his prize a few yards from the surface of the hillside, and, soaring upwards once more, repeated the performance several times, evidently enjoying to the full his rushes earthwards. At length, however, he took his departure over the brow of the hill, and, one by one, the affrighted ptarmigan returned to their haunts, croaking to each other as they reached their nesting quarters, and showing signs of great uneasiness for some time. A few days before the hatching of the eggs an event occurred to cause considerable anxiety to our sitting bird. A roaming ornithologist, in search of fresh subjects for his camera, was seen to approach in a straight line for the brooding ptarmigan. As a matter of fact, he was quite unaware of her proximity, and it was not until he had reached a point some six feet from his crouching "sitter" that he suddenly stopped, and, with feverish haste, erected his camera and crept cautiously forward. The ptarmi- gan for some time remained motionless as a statue, but at length her nerve faJed her and she hurried from the nest, feigning a broken wing. Instantly the cock left the knoll where he had been a silent witness of the proceedings, and flew down to his mate. Emboldened by the presence of her husband, the hen bird now returned, and both parents waited anxiously u short distance from the nest to watch the course of THE LIFE HISTORY OF THE PTARMIGAN 45 events. Fortunately the photographer was content with severaJ pictures of the nest, which he left unharmed, and went on his way, after admiring the beautiful snow-white feathers which lined the nesting hollow, and the richly coloured eggs lying therein. At length, on a beautiful summer's morning, the hen bird knew the happiness of motherhood. One by one tlic tiny chicks emerged from the shell, until the ptarmigan was covering eight downy children under her warm feathers. Her young, more fortunate than those of many other birds, were ushered into the world with open eyes and little feet already prepared for walking, and so. a few hours after the hatching of her brood, the mother bird was leading them across the hill to where the clear spring issued from the ground. Favoured with fine weather, the chicks grew rapidly, and by the time they had reached the size of larks were quite strong on the wing, and able to accompany their mother in her shorter flights. One day a marauding stoat surprised the happy family, and before the excited parent had realised the true state of affairs had captured one of the fledglings and had borne it into a hole in the rocks. On another occasion one of the family, while traversing some rocky ground, disappeared into a deep hole between two stones, and although the parent bird called anxiously for it, and remained in the neighbourhood for some time, the chick was never again seen. Another exciting in- cident was when a herd of stags, suddenly alarmed by the appearance of a mountaineer, galloped madly down the hill face, making straight for where our ptarmigan was resting with her young. At their approach the mother bird fluttered forward in front of the advancing stags, feigning injury, and hoping, apparently, to entice them from the whereabouts of her brood. Her somewhat pathetic confidence in her powers as a decoy was, very naturally, unjustified, and the herd passed right over the spot where her family were crouching on the ground, but, strange to relate, not a single one of her brood was injured, and the next half-hour was marked by happy congratulations between the mother and her family. And now as July slipped into August, and the air of nights was chill, while the grasses and mosses of the high grounds were gradually losing their fresh verdure, the young ptarmigan !i ill 46 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS could be distinguished only with difficulty from the parent birds. Even the white feathers of the wings served to heighten the resemblance, but the youngsters could still be identified by the shorter length of the tail, and the somewhat clumsy way in which they took flight, swaying from side to side like a rudder- less ship as they shot across the hill-side. It was about this time that the various ptarmignn families in the neighbourhood collected into one great flock of many hundreds of birds, and began to cover a wider range of ground than they had done during the nesting season. And as summer gradually merged into autumn the mountain grouse slowly lost their subdued plumage of the summer months, and clad themselves in a dress rivalling the snow in its whiteness. So that when winter descended on the hills, and when the blinding drift swept over the mountains and wild plateaux, the children of the hills were not unprepared for its coming, and even revelled in the snowy wastes, realising that in their plumage of white they were all but secure from their enemies, the mountain eagle and th( stealthy, prowling fox. Happy in this knowledge, they lead their quiet, uneventful life till the breath of the south wind once again comes to the hills, and even on the highest grounds frost and snow disappear for another season, lingering only in the highest corries, which, protected from the sun and soft breezes from the south, retain their snowy covering from one year's end to another. 'i 1 CHAPTER X AUTUMN ON THE HIGH HILLS There is a peculiar grandeur in the Cairngorm mountains at every season of the year; in winter, when their summits and corries are buried deep under glistening snow, and wh'n the ptarmigan in their spotless plumage seem almost to rival the snowy wastes in their brilliant colouring ; in spring, when the summits are free of snow, but when huge fields stiU lie m the corries; in summer, when the mountains are green to their summits, and when the cushion pink and the Alpine azalea cover the plateaux a beautiful red ; but at no season of the year are these giant hills seen to greater advantage than on a fme October day, a day sucli as we were fortunate enough to choose for an expedition over Ben Muich Dhui, 4,296 feet above sea level, and Britain's second highest mountain. As we made our way through the Larig on this October morning it was hard indeed to realise that autumn was wellnigh half gone. The evening before had been remarkable for a very fine display of Aurora, which had lit up the glen with wild effect ; and now the morning was soft and calm, with a wonderful sky, in which mackerel clouds predominated. Before we had gained the Corrour Bothy, at the base of crater-shaped Caimtoul, the sun had pierced through the clouds, and never have we seen the Larig appear more beautiful. Ben Muich Dhui was as yet in shadow, but the sky behind it was of a wonderful azure blue, and on Caim- toul and Braeriach the sun shone with great brilliance, showing off the giant corries to perfection and the waters of the mfant Dee, where it fell, sparkling in the sunlight, from the heights of Braeriach to the comparative gloom of the deep Garbhchoire. On crossing the Dee opposite the bothy we were interested to see a fair-sized salmon dart out from the shallows, and 47 Ui ^ 48 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS I Hi > \ endeavour to conceal itself under a rock in mid- stream. Salmon not infrequently ascend the river to the so-called Fish Pool, rather more than a mile below the bothy, but it is comparatively rare to sec them above this point, as between here and the bothy a succession ni small falls renders it difficult for them to push up farther. After a short halt at tlie bothy, we resumed our journey, making for the Pools (.f Dee at the head of the Larig. Soon we had a view of a f,^i)lden eagle — a mere speck in the sky — just as he was disap- pearing behind the summit of Bracriach ; and a few moments later another eagle gave us a splendid sight of him as, with the sun full on him, he soared in spirals over Ben Muich Dhui, gradually rising to a great height, and appearing almost level with the summit. At this point he was joined by his mate, and the two soared round and round each other until they had actually risen into the clouds, and could only be made out with difficulty. They were occasioning great alarm among the birds in the neighbourhood — a pair of grouse in their excite- ment flew almost into us, and higher up the hill-side flocks of ptarmigan were flying south at express speed. At the extreme end of the Garbhchoire, in a hollow known as the Fuar Garbhchoire (the cold rough corrie), we could see the remains of the immense snowfield which has never, so far as is known, completely disappeared even during the hottest summer. Near the Pools of Dee we heard the roaring of the deer almost continuously, and numbers of stags, with their attendant hinds, could be seen on both sides of the glen. The climb up the plateau of Ben Muich Dhui was ex- tremely stiff going in the intense heat, but we noted, although it as yet wanted an hour to midday, that the sun had already disappeared behind the rocks of Braeriach, leaving the snow in deep shadow. The waters of the Dee in the Larig, far beneath us, were glistening in the sunlight, and the watcher's bothy by the Corrour burn was very distinct. The watcher himself we saw for a moment as h^ walked round to the back of the bothy to fetch some wood On the plateau of Ben Muich Dhui we found many plants of the mountain willow (Sulix herbact-a), the leaves of which had, in most cases, turned to their autumn tints, but were wonderfully vigorous, considering ft some three weeks previously Ben Muich Dhui ii. :U -'■- a. AUTUMN ON THE HIGH HILLS 49 had been deep in snow for several days— in fact, a drift remained for close on a week in its southern corrie. Plants of the cushion pink were common. The latter, though delicate in appearance, are well suited to withstand the storms at this high altitude, and are moored to the loose, gravelly soil by long and formidable roots. Looking across the Larig, Cairntoul was beautifully clear in the strong sun- light, and we could sec the corrie where, nestling between Cairntoul and Sgor an Lochan Uaine, the dark and deep Lochan Uaine (the green lochan) lies hidden from the sun except during the longest days of midsummer. Before October is out ice often covers its surface, and the lochan is hidden under this wintry mantle until long after the soft southerly winds have cleared the snow from off the hill-tops. On the present occasion no snow lingered on Braeriach, except in its Snowy Corrie; while Cairntoul, with its crater-shaped corrie, has rarely snow after the month of July — in this respect being the only one of the Cairngorms to lose its snowfields before the summer is out. From the summit cairn of Ben Muich Dhui the view was extremely grand ; westwards, across the Garbhchoire, the giant bulk of Ben Nevis stood out with marvellous clearness. On its slope light, fleecy clou-Js were resting, continually changing the aspect of the mountain ; but the summit remained wonder- fully clear, and we imagined that we were able, through the glass, to distinguish the observatory or the summit hotel. The Glen Coe mountains were also clearly outlined, and Ben Alder, in the foreground, although close on thirty miles distant, was a very conspicuous object. Farther south, Shie- hallion and Beinn a' Ghlo (the hill of the mist) were prominent, while over Glas Moal and the Glen Shee hills the sky was quite cloudless. Though the summits of all the mountains were so clear, the lower slopes were enveloped in a thin haze, and we afterwards learned that down in the valleys a heavy hoar-frost had been experienced that morning. Lochnagar, to the south-east, was, of course, conspicuous, and down in the valley of the Spey, Ben Rinnes, with dark rocks on the summit, was a well-known landmark. To the north, however, the view was obscured by a very thick haze. On Aviemore the sun was shining with great brilliance. f w Ml li- fe H V*,, --I'j-ii.' 5^ THE CHARM OF THE HILLS I !i I 1' I * I i but beyond al! was dim, ;ind !!■ n \V>\i.i and the Moray Firth were quite invisible. Here on the smuruit plateau, 4,300 feet above ?ea !(vel, tlie t( mpc rature was close on (15 drrrrces m the shade, what wind there was blowing very soft out of the south-west ; and with the sun shininj; from a sky of azure blue, it was quite impossible to realise tiie true season of the year. We had been on Hen Muich Dluii at all seasons, but never before had we been fa\iaired with such truly magnificent weather conditions. The sky to the west was covered with the most wonderful clouds; a few heav}' cumuli here and there, but for the most part soft mackerel clouds predominated, and the sky between them was of an e.\(]uisite blue. On crossing over the ridge we found in the .Snowy Corric the remains of the extensive snowfield from which the corric takes its name. It had dwindled greatly, however, and was not visibli until we were close upon it. Following the Garlih Uisge — one of the sources of the Avon — we came upon three more snowficlds, the lowest being just above I.och Etchachan. The presence of so much snow on the east of Ben Muich Dhui after a warm summer is explained by the fact that the heaviest storms of the winter came out of the west, so that the eastern corries of all the higher hills carried considerably more snow than the average, while the southern corries were not so heavily covered as usual. Descending to Loch Etchachan, we found near the shore of the loch the remains of a ptarmigan which had < vidcntly been captured by a fox, and ample signs were present to show that this was a favourite feeding ground of the deer. On the waters of the loch white-capped breakers were being hurried along by a fresh sou'-wester, and we could not help thinking what a capital day it would have been to attempt to lure some of the large trout from the clear depths. At the southern end of Loch Etchachan many plants of the sea thrift {Anneria markiwa) cover the somewhat boggy ground, and here wc had an excellent view of a parcel of hinds making their way, with many halts for breath, up the steep slopes of Ben Mheadhoin. Curiously enough, tliough on Loch Etchachan the wind was strong and from the south-west, at the head of the Corrie Etchachan not a breath of air was stirring ; and as we made our way down the corric a cold easterly breeze blew up in our faces. AUTUMN ON THE HIGH HILLS 51 Dnriiif,' ^mT (limb v\l- hi art! a riflt- shut, ming apparently fiLHi -.h-: corric to oui south, and now thr hoodies were winj;- ir.j; their vv.iy in the (iircctiun ^ lit nee the report came. At the head of (Jlen Derry we stayed a .vhilo vatchin^' a large niinibi r of deer. tJn the sky-line we i :ild just see the horns cf a fine beast as he lay atnonjjst the Knj; h'^atlnr, and on the slopes of the hill one very heavy =laj:; was ke[>t busy drivinfj off smaller staffs from his lari^c followin{:j of hinds. In the soft ■ vening lis;!'* Cilen fit rry was lookinj^ won
  • uninicr home on marly every Ili<4hland locli, and even in the Lake District of En^'land there are records of eyries ii(j to the end of the ei^'hteenth century. Tradition has it that it fdriiierly nested on the south coast of Kn;,'lanil. hut it has Kaii^ d'^o ceased to oc( ur — except as a niifirant — in that part of the country. And now it is to be feared tliat < vtn Ironi its last mountain strniif^'hulds the osprey lias bien bani=.hed. No more will the hen bird brood on her nest of sticks on the ruined castle on Loch-an-Eilan, nor will her malt-, soaring; down from dark Cairnj^orm. swoop like an arrow to the surface of the loch, and sail aloft tnar- inj^ in his talons a captured fish. Mvtn from Loch Arkaig one of the last stron.Ljhnlds of the race— the fish-hawk has vanished, and we fear it must be owned that one of our most interesting birdr, of prey has been lost to us as a nesting species. It may well be remarked with surprise that the golden eagle — in marked contrast to its near relative— is more than holding its own amidst its Ilijihlatid strongholds. The explanation is that the eagle is a resident, the osprey a migrant. The most careful protection can — indeed, has been— given to the latter bird at its nesting quarters, but on the passage to and from its summer haunts it has to run the gauntlet of many un- scrupulous gunners, who are ever on the look out for a rare bird. It is undoubtedly to a large extent owing to its migratory habits that the osprey has failed to hold its own in the British Isles. The migration of the mullet-hawk — to use a local name— has always appealed to us as being a subject of some considerable interest. Why the osprey should travel 52 d.\ THE VANISHING OSPREV 53 I > A south on the approach of winter, while the golden eagles remain in tlic north throughout the year, cannot easily be explained. At first sight the solution (>l the puzzle would appear to rest in the fact tliat the lochs are frozen over during a considerable part of winter, and thus the osprey is prevented from obtaiiung a necessary suf)ply of fish. This argimifnt would undoubtedly hold good if the osprey confined its tiihing operations to trcsh-water hxlis alone, but, as witnessed by its name " muUct-hawk," this is far from being the case, and one would have imagined that the sea lochs of Scotland would have yielded fish in plenty, even during the most severe weather. It would seem to be the case that this .southern migration is undertaken not sn much on account of considerations of food as to avoid the cold of winter, for (Ireat Britain is near the northern limit of the osprey, and in Greenland and Iceland it is quite unknown. We recently had »he privilege of visiting a stronghold where the osprey succeeded in holding its own for several years after its neighbours had disappeared from their ancient nesting sites. The eyrie was built on a tiny islet in a large fresh-water loch, and — in contradiction to a well-known authority, who states that the osprey s eyrie in Scotland is never placed on a deciduous tree — was constructed on a some- what stunted and fragile oak. At the time of our visit — late autumn— the scenery near the loch was beautiful in the extreme. W^eeping birches fringed the banks, their bright autumn tints contrasting strongly with the dark hill-sides above them — hill-sides on which belts of scraggling pines ex- tended beyond the birches and loomed dark against the snow above. The bracken had turned to flaming orange, save where it had been shielded from the ravages of the frost by the shelter of the woods, and beneath the trees it retained an almost summer greenness. On every side lofty hills rose from the water's edge, their upper slopes thickly coated with white, and every now and again a blinding squall of snow, sweeping down from the north, would blot out the whole country-side and would restrict the outlook even across the loch. As wc pulled out into the water we noted a dark fortn soaring with a certain grim determination across the hill- side above the loch. At first we surmised h''m to be the osprey, ^n I '; ill m m 54 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS but a closer inspection .s'lowed u^^ that a lordly caejle was makinfj Ins way leisurely westward. The osprcy's eyrie, as we have stated, was built on an oak and on a tiny islet whieh, at the time of our visit, was almost entirely si:bmer<,^ed. Situated at no great height above the ground, the nest was easy of aceess to even a moderate climber. It was in a somewiiat dilapidated condition, and had not been tenanted for some considerable time, though we learnt that a solitary cock liird had been in the habit of turning up at the loch each May for the last seven years, having been unable, apparently, to secure a mate, and had every spring repaired the eyrie, to a certain extent, on his arrival. This is not the only case in whicli a solitary osprey has put in an appearance every year at his nesting site before the birds became quite extinct in the locality, though it seems almost incredible that the survivor should be unabl<; t'> secure a mat(' through the winter months, for the osprey nests on sea cliffs in the Meditcrraiiean, and is also met with as a nesting species in Spain and Greece. Thus, on its migration south at the end of summer, t'.ie surviving bird could scarcely fail to procure a mate to return with him the following spring. Another explanation, though we doubt whether a satis- factory one, is that these individuals arc old birds whose breeding days are over ; but, whatever the cause, it is somewiiat pathetic to see the solitary bird returning year after year, until he, too, disappears from hi^ well-loved loch. It seems to be on the autumn migration that the osprey suffers most at the hands of its enemies. In the spring it rarely halts on its journey north, but in autumn it takes the southern stages leisurely, and often remains for days on end, fishing on some lake or reservoir in the southern counties. A few years ago a pair of ospreys were unfortunately shot in the New Forest. \\'liether a coincidence or n^t. it is a fact that since that time the Loc!i-an-Eilan eyrie has been deserted, and it is more than likely that the two victims were on their way .south from their Highland loch when they were shot. The <'ood of the osprey consists entirely of fish. We have been told by the owner of a west coast loch on which the birds used to nest that the fish were never taken from the home loch, but that the birds invariably crossed the ridge m ! -\i i ■ I r:^^ I i J THL VANISHING OSPREV 55 and conducUd their fiahin.^' t.jx^rations on linh:^ prinnpally to the west. On another loch of our acquaintance, however, the hirds usid to catch the fish for their young largely on thoir own loch. The fish in this case were principally pike, and sumeti:ncs an osprey would tackle a lisli which pnncd more than a match, for him, when the bird, after a stru;,'^'le, would be dragged half under water and would be obliged to let go its hold. The osprey will taki trout with avidity, and sometimes grilse. Occasionally it tackles a salmon, but often with unsuccessful results. We were told, a little while ago, a most interesting story in this connection. .\n angler, fishing a famous Highland river, hooked and landed a good fish of considerable weight. Nothing remark- al:ile was noticed about the fish at the time, but when the salmon came to be eaten, the nail of a bird's claw was found deeply embedded in the flesh. I-"rom the size and shape of the find there could be little doubt but tliat the nail belonged io an osprey, and so an interesting romance was woven round tin discovery. The probable explanation was that the osprey had buried its talons deep in the fish, and had lieen over- powered and dragged beneath the water by the tirrified salmon. Evidently its clows had been so deeply embedded in its intended victim that a nail of a claw iiad to be sacrificed by the bird in order to free itself! Before the ospreys disappeared from a certain Highland loch they were subjected to great per.seeution during the nest- ing season, and, in spite of every precaution, tlieir eggs were frequently stolen. While thi- lien bird was sitting the boat on the loch was chained and padlocked, and watchers were placed in the neighbourhood, lO that access to tlu' island was wcllnigh an impossibility. One night, during a blinding snowstorm, a certain daring character determined on rubbing the nest. Having stripped naked, but retaining his cap on his head, he swam through the dark wat<'rs to the island. So wild was the nignt that the sitting osprey was quite unaware of liis approach, and he was almost successful in capturing the bird as well as robbing the nest. TIk' eggs he placed in his cap, and with his night's haul lie swam back through the icy waters without arousing the -ispicions of the watchers. % I ii ■<] r 56 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS This was prchahiy the most daring robbery of an osprcy's pyrio. and ..ne cannct be surprised at the number of attempts — both .successful and unsuccessful — which were subsequently made, fur unscrupukms dealers were ever ready to buy the eggs, and even colkrtors were sometimes not above < ffering a bribe for osprey e^';^^s taken in Great Britain. In North America the osprey is abundant, and nests in colonies. In Southern Russia it is also to be found, and its range extend- along the coast of Northern Africa, and even into suitable districts in Asia. It will thus be seen that tile extinction of the hsh-hawk is purely a local one, and were it not fur its migratory habits, it might be possible to re-establish it in some of its former strongliolds amongst the hills. Even as it is, if these attempts at reintroduetion were proceeded with seienafically and at several distinct nesting sites, there i.s lust a possibility that the venture would prove successful, and that the osprey would be restored to us as a nesting species. Ir-. m CHAPTER XII THE COMING OF THE SNOWS TO THE HILLS The snows descend early on the hills. While the glens and corries arc still bathed in warm sunshine and soft breezes, on the mountain-tops winter in all her grandeur and seventy h(!ds sway, and the rushing burns are silenced in her icy grip. The first stay of winter on the hills is usually a fleeting one ; sometimes, however, the snows descend with little or no warning, and for a full week blizzards of snow sweep over the mountain summits, piling up great drifts in the sheltered corries, and leaving the exposed plateaux almost bare. A wintry spell still holds as we set out one mid-October morning to penetrate to the haunts of the snows, for the hills are mist-capped and shrouded by passing snow showers. In tiio fir wood at the foot of the glen tlu- air is mild, as tlie force of the wind is broken by the giant trees and the sun shines warm and clear. A heron is fishing at the burn side, and is disinclined to move at our approach. He flic^ a short distance with manifest reluctance, and then settles on the top of a fir tree, where the s.m shines full on him. From the long heather at our feet a woodcock suddenly rises and darts off through ^he firs. At this elevation the woodcock is by no means common, and the solitary representative is in all likelihood one of the invading army of migrants from the north. As we push on up the valley the trees become more scattered, until only a few veterans clothe the hill-sides on fither side of the mountain burn; but long aftf ; the last fir has been left behind we come upon a solitary rowan, over- looked during the summer months, but now conspicuous in its autumn tints against its sombre background. On either side of the glen large numbers of deer are grazing, and stag answers stag in challenge across the corrie, 57 I. ji n'^^ irc- 5S THE CHARM OF THE HILLS 1 Some of tlic sta^js ar,- still by themselves, but many of the lar^^cr boasts have already annexid a number of wives. W'c note some very luavy deer, with exeellent licads. One in particular carries a finer head of horns than wc ever remember havin<.j seen in tins part of the fonst. Though hi' is several points short ui a "royal," the size and span of h'iir, horns are remarkable, and he more resembles a park stag than an inhaliitant of the hills. This sta;^ is mister of quite forty hinds, and is liavinj^ a busy time in repelling the advances of rivals and in keeping the Innds from stra\ing. As we watch, ancjther slag — also a heavy beast, but with a smaller head — answers tiie challenge of this king of the glen, and for two or three minutes tiny fight fiercely, charging each otlKT with lowt-rtd heads. Suddenl)-, huwe\er, the new- comer is of o|Dinion that he lias taken on a somewhat too powerful adversary, and gallops precipitately down the hill- sid(\ The victor does nut [lursue, but turns lialf round, roaring repeatedly, as tliough U< proclaim to all in t!ie neigh- b urh.Mid that he is ready to tight to the death for tlie posses- - 1 ! liis hinds. 'I'hen iie runs restlessly backwards and : wards, ga.^ping for breath, and charging any hind which •lis tu be stru) ing from the main herd, lie higher reaches ,>f the glen are almost devoid of deer, len (he hills on either side of us are powdered with snow, been blown into the liullows in miniature snow i'urning abruptly to the west, wc enter the corrie ' Highlanders as "The Corrie of the iuni[)er." shut in on either side by precipitous hills — so \en at idday tlu- sun is unable to penetrate to .1 ha~ ith- .vn t we . th eorr ntath -and in the glen itself the air is calm, 1 wind passes iiigh nver our heads. Against t'lc tl:, nvks ue suddenly see the form of a golden '[)ing downwards with half-closed wings. Soon, he sails ui)\\ards, uiiiising the wind in a masterly and rising rapidly with never a movement of his ; lan: r \\ing3. Higher and higlier he mounts, until he appears a ghostly form through the flying clouds, and gradually is shrouded in the mist. His ascent into the clouds is interesting, for he can no longer scan the ground beneath him for the luckless &£k t^r 'i%n7' COMING OF THE SNOWS TO THE HILLS 59 ptarmigan, and he niuit riso above the mist either lor the joy of flight or else to reach the warm rays of the sun. At a height of considerably less than 3,cxx) feet we reach the first snow, and as wi' emerge on the lop of tlie orrie and look across the dark loch where the burn has its birth we sec the mist low on the farther hill-side. Even as we look, a cloud of thin grey vapour is being borne rajjidly towards us on the north wind, and the loch is soon blotted out in its soft embrace. Through the mist, then, we press onwards, liaving as our companions the myst'-rious ptarmigan, whose weird, croaking cry is often borne to us un the bnath of tin wind, though the birds themselves are (juite invisible. Here a thin mist is falling, in the form of small particles of ice, and we are speedily transformed into objects more in keeping with our Arctic surroundings. At this height every grass stem is covered with a thin, feathery mantle of white, and as we pass a lochan we note that its surface is covered with a thick sheet of frozen snow and ire. We are now on the summit plateau of the mountain, and, though a thin mist covers the hill, the sun siiines through feeblv with curious effect, lighting up the snowy expanse with its soft yellow rays, so that with little effort of the imagination we can almost persuade ourselves that wc are w.;';-;ing on some mountain plateau in the Arctic regions. At the summit cairn we rest for a while. Gradually the sun shims with greater power, and at our backs is iorined on the mist that ghostly rainbow known to all hill men as a "glory." There it remains during our stay on the plat jau —sometimes bright, sometimes dimmed as the sun half hides himself, but always spanning the sky against its ethereal and misty back- ground. To our west tiie hill dips suddenly, and in this sheltered hollow an enormous wreath of snow has Ken piled up by the northerly wind of the past week. The snow is as hard as iron, and we are able to walk to the edge and Ic'^k down into the come beneath. So far as can be judged, the drift is quite 25 feet in depth, and on the surface of the snow of the previous Acek last nic;ht's fr\il is clearly visible. At one point a miniature avalanche has fallen, and even as wc look another stream ot snow starts ..^^.,M.^Ai^ >^T'^ •T-^ . 4 I 60 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS on its way down the hill-side. The only means of descent on this sidt- of the hill is by way of a narrow corrie. down which a small mountam burn ruslus. To-d.iy, however, the burn 1- stilled under its thick coverin},' of snow and ice, and in the niist the corrit is none too ea^v- to discover. Suddenly, however, the cloud lifts entirely, and we have a jjlorious view of tlie corrie beneath us, bathed in bri>;ht sun- shine. At the foot of the corrie the River Dec winds and twisis down tiie glen, but. curiously enough, the wi ,ither far beneath us is dark and stormy, and the valk) is black as night. The lifting of the mist has disclosed U< us an interest- ing fact. The lower clouds, m which we have been enveloped, have been coming from a point just cast of north, but the upper banks are now seen drifting before a wind which is almost due south. Over the top of the gorge the snow is of great di ptii, and it is with some difficulty that we cross t!ic Irozen wreath and enter the sheltered come. On the ridge the north wind has been blowing strong and piercingly, but here it is quiet, and the air is pleasantly warm. From our point of vantage we are privileged to see the most wonderful cloud effects. The valley beneath us is filled with a dense white vapour, which floats backwards and forwards with the uncertain wind. Now it hides the hills across the glen from our view. Now the sun asserts himself, and the clouds take on a wonderful silvery tint. Through the rifts we have glinij)ses of the hills on the far west coast, for the weather to the westwards is more settled, and the hills in that direction arc quite free of mist. During the first part f{ our descent the snow is hard and bears us with case, but soon we find the snowy covering only in patches, and below the 3,0(Xi feet level the snow is entirely absent. From the glen bcneatli us the roar of a stag is borne faintly up, and we can make out half a dozen small beasts on a hill to our left. They are grazing quietly, evidcntl)- enjo>- ing the warm sunshine, and are reluctant to change tlieir ground. P'rom some rocks at our feet a covey of ptarmigan rise and fly off into the sun, the light making their .snow-white wings still more dazzling. The covey soon turn abruptly to the right, and disappear over the brow of the hill — all except one bird, which breaks away from the main body and flies off MIST ON Till-, TOl's \A Ai n ' Till HAUNT Ol Tin SNOWS t- i if- W^'^i^' ^W^^W:im "^^ I VOUNC. 1 At.I 1 WAT( IIINC, TWn I'Rl- SI i MI NC. WflKATKAHS WHICH ui Ki A^Nll^l^■(, iiim iiiM !' COMING OF THE SNOWS TO THE HILLS 6i in an opposite direction. Soon tlic ground in front of u« is alive with ptarmigan, and wc must flush close on i;<) birds. At a height of just less than ^,i»xj leel wo put up a pack of grousr, though we never rrmomber ha\ing seen these birds before in such an exposed corrie, but the warmth of the sun- kissed slope has evidently attracted all bird life in the neigh- bourhood. On tlic summits of the mountains .i. ross the glen the mi-t still lingers, though the corrie where is the scat of eternal snow, is clearly visible ; but now the old snow is con- ce.iled by the recent fall. I'rom a hollow not many yards from us three small stags suddenly appear, and though so close to us, move down the hill-side in a surprisingly leisurely manner. We watch tliem f"r some niinutes until they reach the bottom of the glen and ford the river in single file. As we reach thr jtath near the river:,;Je and look back at the corrie which we have di- landed, wc cannot but m tice the varying contrasts in light and shade. Where we stand — at the foot of the corrie — the glen is already in shadow, for the sun has sunk behind the hills to the westward. Higher up, the sun is flooding the lull-side, while the t^p of the corrie is dim and half shrouded in a thin mist of a blue grey colour. In this glen we are surrounded by hills .^ver 4,ch«) feet in lieight, and on Cairntoul the mist gradually lifts until the summit cairn is visible. Every rock on the upper parts of the hill ia delicately powdered witli a thin layer of snow, ,jid in the failing light the snow takes on some of the grey blue colour of the sky above it. During our walk down tlie glen, we hear the crowing of the cock grous? and the roar of the stags on the h( j^'hts above, and from the eastern sky, now free of clouds, the full moon shines kindly on the infant snows. • • • • • One early September day the wind suddenly went round to the n..rth, and that morning snow began to fall on th,- Cairn- gorms, continuing almost inct ssantly f c r three days. Two days after the storm had ceased the writer and a friend made the ascrnt of Ben Muich Dhui to ascertain the amount of snow that had fallen on the summit plateau, and had an experience prob- ably unparalleled for the month of Septemlxr. Leaving Derry the weather was dull and threatening, the wind having backed m ( I iSrr-l MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART ANSI t.nd ISO ;ESt CHART No 2 1.0 !.l IB IM ,136 IIM 11= IZO 1.8 1.25 ^ ,^PPl!ED IM/IGE inc 62 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS to the sont;i-\vf St, but rniind I!( n Mh(adhoin was a clear patch of sky, with the top of the hill showing distinctly in the sun. As we walked up Glen Derry a golden eagle several times passed (]ni!o mar u'^, either flying steadily or soaring majes- tically abuVL tin liill-sidi', at times on the keen look out for gron>r. p. wn tiic side of Derry Cairngorm a burn which is usually ([uite insignificant was falling e^ver the rr.cks in an inifjosing ca-xade, and was visible at a great distance. The higher r( aches of lien Mheadhoin (i,S(.() feet) were deep in snow, with !arg< cornices leaning over the rocks, and even on the Larig an Laoigh Pass snow was lying. The Derry burn was in spate, and wc noticed that at several points it had, a day er two previously, been right over its banks for considerable stretches. Tlie severe weather had caused the deer to seek the shelter of the low grounds, and wc saw none higher than about 1,700 feet. Although lien Mheadhoin kept beautifully clear the weather to windward was very threatening, with thick mist on thi^ hills, and by the time we entered Corrie Etchachan rain was falling, with a dismal appearance all round. There we flushed the only grouse seen during the day's walk, but a little farther on disturbed quite a large number of beautiful ptarmigan, already commencing to lose their summer plumage. The weather continued threatening until Loch Etchachan was reached, when the mist cleared suddenly, and the sun shone out with superb effect. The loch stood out sharply, and all above it was spotless white, while across to the north Cairngorm was specially grand, with its slopes deeply covered with snow, and the giant rock on the summit black as night. Above Loch Etchachan the path was obliterated by tlie snow, and wc now began to realise what an extraordinary storm had been experienced in these parts. As we progressed the depth of snow rapidly increased, until at a height of about 3,/~oo feet wc came on some drifts quite twenty feet in depth, and frozen so hard that we could walk with ease on the surface of the snow. Soon v ^ came to the point from which the summit of the hill is visible, and one could scarcely realise that it was not midwinter, so arctic was the scene. .\n average depth of some three feet of snow covered the plateau, and in places it was frozen into almost solid ice! The mist was just touching the summit, and it was very COMING OF THE SNOWS TO THE HILLS 63 difficult to make out where the !;ill i nded and the clouds beyan. From this point we had a wi;d view of the top of bnow-capped Derry Cairngorm, and bihind it inky clouds which had all through the day been covering Beinn a' K'luird. We wire now in .--ighi "f the "snowy come" 01 Ben Muich Dhui, and, as far as could be judged, a fresh drift of at least forty feet covered the drift formed durmg the winter, which was still of a great depth before the new snow- fall. At this elevation all the burns were running far beneath the snow, and the lochans were covered with snow and ice so as to be quite unrecognisable. In places where ihe snow had been swept off the ground by the wind, we noticed that the hardy grass which grows at this lieight had been quite killed by the severe weather, and when we reached the shelter, made by the sappers many years ago when they were surveying thise heights, we found it half buried in snow and ice. I'rom here to the summit cairn is only some 200 yards, and just as we gained it the mist cleared for a minute or two, giving us a very fmc view. The Moray Firth in the clear atmosphere seemed exceptionally near, while Ben Rinnes, on the Spey, and the Buck of the Cabrach and Benachie, near Aberdeen, were also distinct. West, across the Dee, we had a passing glimpse of Bracriach and the Garbhchoirc filled with snow ; but the mist again descended, and we made all haste to safer quarters, as the summit of Ben Muich Dhui in mist and snow presents many dangers, with precipices all round. The first part of the descent was made difficult from the fact that the snow occasionally gave way under us, letting us down suddenly, and also that large lumps of half-frozen rain came whirling before the wind. The edges of the precipices were filled by cornices extending outwards some feet, and in a thick mist one might easily have stepped out on them without being aware of the danger. We noted with surprise that, notwithstanding the great fall of snow on Ben Muich Dhui, Ben Bhrotain and Lochna^ar had absolutely no snow on them, although neither of these hills is much short of 4,000 feet in height, and it was also curious to see how the mist constantly shrouded many of the lower hills, while Cairngorm and Ben Muich Dhui kept free nearly all the time. In the snow wc saw footprint-, of ptarmigan, hares. If- i \ 64 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS 1:. and foxes, and a surprising number of flies of various sizes were crawling sleepily along the surface of the snow. Strangely enough, the summit cairn was plastered with snow, not on the wmdward but on the leeward side, the explanation probably bein^ that the gale blew the snow round to the leeward side, and there the back-flowing eddy plastered it against the cairn to a depth of quite three feet. About a mile from the summit we had a beautiful view of Loch Etchachan, with Cairngorm in tlic background, and between the two the dark hollow where Loch Avon nestles ; but soon we left behind us the last traces of this exceptional September storm, and regained the low ground once more. 1!^ CHAPTER XIII THE NESTING OF THE DOTTEREL Although at one time numerous as a nesting species in the Lake District and the south of Scotland, the dotterel has, we fear, been quite banished from these localities, and now nests only on the summits of the higher hills of the Highlands. Its destruction has been to a great extent brought about by the high price set upon its feathers for the making of trout and salmon flies, and it is said that this alone caused its extinction in the Lake District. It is gratifying to be able to state, however, that it is holding its own in tlie more inaccessible parts of Scotland, and on certain hills is even numerous. Dotterel are migratory birds, and arrive in this country in May. For a few days they keep to the coast in flocks, but very soon leave for their nesting haunts. They are extremely regular in their nesting habits, and one can count on finding the hen brooding by the first week of June, but seldom at an earlier date. The nest is almost always made on the summit, or summit plateau, of a hill — very rarely on the slopes — and is merely a slight depression scraped in the moss or stunted heath. There is little lining to the nest, but one which I examined recently was lined with dried blaeberry leaves and a few pieces of lichen. Although nesting where they experience the full force of wind and storm, the dotterel rarely construct their nests under the shelter of a stone, but seem to prefer to sit out the storm, crouching low, with head against the wind. The young are hatched very near the longest day, and remain in the nest only for a day at the most. I remember once flnding a dotterel's nest on June 22 with three very small chicks in it. Two of them seemed almo=t ready to run ofl", but the third was still helpless, and haa evidently been hatched only an hour or two. It is rather curious that, unlike the majority F f3 f.6 THE CHARM OF THE HILLS i of the " wadi-rs," which invariably lay four cpgs, the dotterel never has more than three in a clutch. In colouring the eggs closely resemble those of the golden plover, but they are more rounded in shape and considerably smaller in size. Of a biiffish ground colour, they are blotched and spotted witli red-brf)svn, and the blotches are more pronounced at the larger end of the egg. Very often the first clutch of (ggs is de- stroyed by a snowstorm, and on these occasions the hen will sonutimes lay again, but this is by no means always the case. Young dotterel have been noted as late as mid-August, but if the fnst brood arc successfully reared, the family are able to fly by the end of July or beginning of August. During the season of igo; we spent some days at a favourite haunt of these birds in the hope of obtaining some photographs of their eggs and young, but met with no success, owing to the severe snowfalls which were experienced all through the nesting season. The dotterel were nesting on the summit plateau of a mountain close on 4,000 feet high, where even the ptarmigan did not venture on account of the storms, and on June '''', when we visited the breeding ground, the weather conditions more resembled March than midsummer. Scarcely had we arrived on the plateau when a heavy mist descended, and soon a severe fall of snow was experienced. The flakes were of a large size, and in a few minutes had covered the hill completely. When the snow had ceased and the mist had cleared off, we were hopeful of finding any dotterel which might be sitting in the vicinity, as she would have been very prominent against the snow ; but all the nests must have been destroyed by a previous snowstorm, for we saw the birds going in pairs, and at one spot noted as many as sixteen in a flock. In early July we again visited the plateau, on the chance of finding some of the birds nesting again, but they had evidently given up the attempt for that season. Some idea of the severity of these summer storms may be gathered when it is mentioned that on July 6 so much snow fell on the hills that four days afterwards the drifts in places were actually eight or nine feet deep! In 1908 the dotterel were far more fortunate as regards weather conditions, and on June 22 of that year we spent the day in obtaining photographs of a dotterel at her nest. This NKST Ol DOTTKKH. li fr I YOUNG nOTTKKKI.S 'H I ''^^^; UOTTKRH. AT IIKR Nl-.STING IIOMI- A C.OI.DFX hAGI.K KMKRGING 1- ROM A DKKP HOOI. THROUGH WHICH HK HAS PROFKM.Il) HlMSKLl- WITH HIS WINGS THE NRSTING OF THE DOTTEREL ^7 XI I latter was situated on t!u- side of a hill just over 3,oc»o feet abov(_' sea level, and cnntanud three i-^'t,'s, on tlio point of hatching'. The nest \va^ by no means easy to discover, as for lon^ the bird ran about in a restless way, and refused to brood on her eggs, doubtless because she knew that in \hv grcit heat of the sun they were quite safe. At length, however, we saw her settle down, and, marking the spot, discovered and photographed the nest. I his was situated about ten yards from a low sheep fence— which, by the way, s(^ems a rather favourite situati m f>r a dotterel's nest — and was slightly sheltered from t*- ith by a small stone. While we were at the nest e bird gradually became more confiding, and ran roun . us at a distance of a few feet, calling plaintively. The usual alarm note is a whistling "twee twee," sometimes ending in a soft purring cry, and the bird has a curious habit of jerking its head backwards every now and again. Although wc were at the nest, the mother Bird did not seem unduly anxious as to the fate of her treasures, and fed quite unconcernedly near us, returning to the eggs immediately we had gone a few yards from them. By a novice the dotterel might well b<; mistaken for a golden plover, as its build and habits closely resemble those of the latter bird ; but it can always be identified by the white stripe above the eye, and by its smaller size, it is also much more confiding than the golden plover, and nests at a higher altitude. A few days after the date mentioned wc again visited the haunts of the dotterel, in the hope of obtaining photo- graphs of its young, but in this we were unsuccf:ssful. The day was one of intense heat, and all the hills around stood out clearly. In the distance Ben Alder carried a great amount of snow, and of the Cairngorm mountains Ben Muich Dhui was still almost completely covered under its winter coat. After a short search, we came upon the mother dotterel, but although we waited for some time, she did not show the slightest inclination to return to her young, which no doubt were hiding near. Several times she tried to draw us away from the spot by feigning a broken wing, but as we were not deceived by her ruse, she remained quietly about a hundred yards away, and calmly awaited our departure. Of the 'l'< i^ 6S THE CHARM OF THl- HILLS younR we Cdiild unfortunately sie no trice, so after a time we wire nluct.inlly compelled to lc.i\e the ni'sting site without success. Durinf,' the time wo had been on the lookout for the youn^i; we could hear thunder muttering all round, and as we were descending,' the hill a fresh storm suddenly gather* d overhead. To our south and east the sky was black as nif^'ht. while turnin;,' westwards tlu' eye was dazzled by the bri;,'ht sunshine. TIk- lightning was exceptionally vivid, and the |)cals of thunder sounded ri;,'ht overhi ad ; but as regard-, rain we were extremely fortunate, for we had vi ry little, while half a mile up the valley we could see it descending in a solid sheit, and. on tlic cl.iud lifting for a moment, had a glimpse of the lull-top tiuite covered with hail! After tlie storm we motored up the valley, and found the burns coming down in full flood, carrying down stones, and even small trees in their course. At one part of the glen several lap- wings and redshanks had \ oung, and as the river rose and flooded their nc-sting ground it was sad to see the nestlings battling with the flood and the old birds flying above them, encouragmg them with eager cric-s. The young redshanks seemed to be quite at heme in the water, but not so the lapwings, nearly all of which were drowned in spite of our tternpts at rescue. We thought of the dotterel covering her chicks in the storm, but she, at all events, ran no risk ol having lier young carried off in the spate. When the young dotterel are full grown they form into flocks, and the old and young birds of several different hills seem to join together. Until autunm they remain on the heights, but early in October young and old leave for the coast, and, later, for warmer countries, to return again at the breath of the spring and of the south wind. «S..- ciiai'ti:r XIV IHK KULI. iiK THE MOON y one, for an enormous crater-shaped corric covers the entire eastern face of the mountain, and to the casual observer appears to be of distinctly volcanic origin. To Caimtoul, then, we set '>ut one glorious winter morning, in order, if pos-ible, to penetrate to its icy summit, and although, owing to unfavourable weather conditions, this plan had to be abandoned, we had, never- theless, one of the most interesting days of our experience. As we make our way up th< Larig, the morning, though dull, gives a certain promise of better things to follow, and ere wc reach the Corrour bothy the rising sun is tinging the summits of Cairntoul and Ben Muich Dhui an exquisite pink. Though shining on the tops, the lower slopes of the hills are as yet in gloom, but this serves to accentuate the beauty of the sun-kissed summits. The cairn on Cairntoul can be seen to be covered deep in ice and snow, and the hill as a whole is buried under its white mantle. In the Larig compara- tively little snow is covering the ground, except where it has been piled up into wreaths ; but the River Dee is held 69 Tin; CHARM OF THK HII.I.S tast aluiit; the whole of its coiirsr by a covLTing of ice - -a covi.ing so thick that the sound uf the waters runmng lar beneath is effectually stilled. A mile or so west of the liothy an enormous snow vvrtath curls o\er the Tailor's ( orrie of Hen Mmcli Dhui, and, as far as can be ( stimatcd, the \sreath is not f.ir short of inn feet in depth. \Vi have noticed t!iat this drift accuiiuilatcs to a v. ry ^reat depth every season, but, curiously inouj^h, is one of thi first sD.iwfields to dis- appt.ir from the hills, and is rarely in ixi-trme alter tlu' end of JiiiH-. .War tlic botliy three c'-.rk specks are visible on the snow, and li> means of tlie i^lass are made out to t)e red deer. Though the situation is very exposed, v.illi no shelter of any kind nearer than Derry Lodf^e, two or three hardy stag's are usually to be found ^^aazinj,' in the nei^'h- bourliood of tliv buliiy until an exceptional snowfall drives thetii to the low pr.uind. To-day they are iwceedingly wild, and make off u|) the pass in .L,^reat alarm while yet we are a good half-mile off. Near the bothy we cross the bed of the Dee and make our way up the C'orrour burn to wliere it rises on the south plateau of Cairntoul, at a heij^ht of some 3,ocx) icct. Above t!ie C'orrour bothy the burn runs through a deep gorge, and as a result of a recent stiirni this gorge contains a truly enormous quantity of snow, and will probably retain its icy covering till early July, it is here that the first ptarmigan are met with. On the slopes of the Devil's Point a large pack an- fi eding on the tender shoots of the heather and blaeberry, and through the glass wc watch tlum for some time. Several of the birds — in all probability last season's broods--still retain tlie dark feathers of the autumn plumage. The cock ptarmigan are much in evideiKe, and strut about with tails in thu air, calling repeatedly in their weird, croaking language. Sometimes their cry resembles nothing so much as the ticking of a fishing reel, >r the winding of a clock. At our approach they rise in a bod ■ and wing their way across the corrie. We find, at a height jf some 2,5CK) feet above sea level, a con- sidcralile depth of snow — quite 12 inches — which renders the going somewhat tedious. At this point we hear the twittering of a tloc'- of snow-bunting, and sec the birds in the distance as the\' .TOSS the hill -idc. The tracks of a fox mingle with m THH FULL OF THF MOON ON CAIRNTOl L 71 those of the ptarmit,'an, and doubtless tlic freebooter has taken toll of the birds as they roosted at night. Before the ridg.- of ("airntoul can be topped a very stci p slope has to tx- sur- mounted, and to-day this is by no means easy, for the snow on the slope is hard, and steps have to bo cut with con- siderable care. Fortunately no "s|)indrift" is blowing, and soon wc emerge on tlic plateau, to look upon a scene ot wild grandeur. A west-'rly gale sweeps across to us from the sninmit of Monadli Mor, and sou'-west Ikn lUirotain is seen dimly through tlie driving clouds. A temperature of just over the freezing point prevents drifting, but small particles of ice are being driven before the gale, and all around us ij an unbroken mantle of white. At times the sun pierces the mist for a few seconds, and the cloud effects are grand in the extreme. The w(-ather at this stage changes for the worse-, and wc abandon the idea of making the summit, contenting ourselves with a view from the cairn of the Devil's Point, the most southern spur of Cairntoul. Here we are hemmed in liy lofty precipices on three sides, and over the rocks ;.;igantic cornices iiave formed, making it a matter of con- -iiderable danger to approach them. As wc commence the descent to the Larig dusk has fallen, :ir.d the full moon, low in the eastern sky, is shedding her lays on the mountains, adding a cold grandeur to the lonely .■^ccnc. 1 he wind has shifted to the north, and dark snow clouds fast obliterate her light. Scion a violent blizzard of dry snow blots out every object more than a few yards distant, and it is with difficulty that we disco\cr the bothy and find some shelter from the storm. The wind now sweeps down the Larig with the force of a whole gale, and the drift is i)eiiig swept along in a blinding, choking cloud. I,aige wreaths arc rapidly formed, and just as the outlook has b( gun to look s