His

precipice they at once saw him seated on a rock quite dead! His shepherd's staff, with his gully-knife tied on the end of it, was lying by his side, and a full pinch of snuff between his fingers. They traced a stream of blood to the wild-cats' rock, and upon looking at the knife it was dyed red also. The whole was soon apparent. The farmer, in endeavouring to stab the cats with his spear-knife, had stumbled upon it, and divided the femoral artery. first natural impulse was to run home; but immediately getting faint, he had attempted to refresh himself with a pinch, when his hand fell powerless for ever. The man's face was familiar to me: I had often exchanged with him the friendly greeting when rowing up Loch Lubnaig for a few hours' fly-fishing; and I could hardly realise that he whom I had seen working at his peats a few days before, in full health and vigour, was now stiff and cold as the rocks of his mountain. The lesson was strange and startling, that he who had prepared the weapon of death, should so suddenly have perished by it himself. Full of life's hopes and cares, with an eye undimmed and his natural force unabated, he had gained the ridge of the Hill of God,* there all unwarned and unattended—to die.

*Ben Ledi signifies in English "the hill of God;" and, I believe, takes its name from the old tradition of pilgrims crossing the mountain to sacrifice on the other side.

THE MARTEN

THIS beautiful connecting link between the fowmarte* and the cat is not a native of this country. It was imported, I believe, from America, and is pretty generally dispersed over the wild and wooded districts of Scotland. It has none of the offensive odour of the fowmarte, and even more alertness and activity than the cat. Running at a little distance, it looks exactly like a giant weasel. In some the breast is nearly white, whilst in others it is a bright orange, which has given occasion to the supposition that they are varieties of the species; but I have no doubt they are the same. Of the many I have seen trapped or shot, I always remarked that the male was darker in the colour, and his breast almost white; that of the female was orange, and the fur lighter brown. I had a male and female stuffed that were trapped together at the same bait, exactly answering to this description.

When pursued, the marten, although its legs are so short, can run faster than a cat; this it does by a succession of

* A corruption from the Teutonic ful, fetid, and merder, a marten.

springs, for which its long body gives it a great advantage. As a last resource, it will climb trees, and spring from one to another like a squirrel. I once, with two or three companions, had a curious hunt of this kind. The marten had been driven by a very swift terrier into a clump of pines, which it so nearly resembled in colour that we had great difficulty in keeping sight of it. At last we thought of cutting off its retreat by climbing all the adjacent trees the creature showed great coolness when thus driven to extremities, awaiting the approach of its enemy, perched on the pinnacle of the tallest pine; and it was only when one of our party got quite close, that it sprang from the top to the bottom of the tree, rebounding nearly a yard from the hard turf, just where I was standing, and, not a whit disconcerted, darted off at full speed, gained a precipice, and made good its escape.

Unless hard pressed, however, the marten is more apt to go to earth, or take refuge in the clefts of the rocks, than upon trees. When run to ground by a fox-hound, there is no creature more easily smoked out-it will bolt almost immediately; and numbers are killed in this manner, although, from the quickness and uncertainty of its exit, it is anything but an easy shot.

When in quest of prey, it is daring as well as mischievous; not so apt to leave its secure fastness in the daytime, but under cover of darkness it will travel many miles, committing great devastation in preserves; and unless trapped or shot, will return night after night to the poultryyard, killing many more fowls than it devours. One of

these pilferers had nearly made a clear sweep of my father's poultry: it kept peering over the perch with the greatest impudence, and could scarcely be driven thence by the dairymaid: no sooner was she out of sight than it would return. The farm-overseer at last procured a trap, and having set it without art or covering, the loud screams of the robber presently made known his capture.

The marten generally selects a magpie's nest in the thickest pine-tree, and there rears its young; hence it has obtained the name of pine-weasel. One, however, in the Black Mount, had the impudence to select royal quarters for its progeny, and to take possession of the eagle's castle. The forester having reason to think that the bird was sitting hard, peeped over the cliff into the eyrie. To his amazement, a marten was suckling her kittens in comfortable occupancy. As he had a fair look down, he watched them for some time, intending to return in a few days with his gun. When he did so, the martens, old and young, had left the nest, and no trace of them was to be found. Another was brought me that had its litter in the thatch of an old barn; it was detected by a dog, driven out, and shot. The young were rather smaller than kittens, and quite as sweet and clean.

If seized by the breast, the marten, like the cat, is easily killed by a good dog; but the skull is so hard that I have seen one, when released from a trap with all its legs broken, roll away upon the ground, after receiving half-a-dozen hard blows on the head from the keeper's cudgel. This animal, being easily trapped or run down, is not nearly so numerous now as it was some years ago.

THE OTTER

THIS eccentric creature is so much hidden from notice, partly owing to its resources for concealment lying both in land and water, that its habits are not much observed, although it is so generally distributed throughout the three kingdoms. It excites greater attention on the rocky coasts from being occasionally hunted there. In the west Highlands, especially, many of the resident proprietors pique themselves on the excellence of their otter-terriers. Some few keep hounds for the purpose, but the terrier is a very good substitute in these wild districts, and of course far more easily procured.

A good otter-hunt is a very curious sight, and from being able for the most part to see the dogs, and keep up with them, the interest seldom flags. In the Lowlands and Border counties of England, where otters are not so numerous, the fowmarte is often hunted instead with otter-hounds. I was told by a subscriber to a Cumberland otter-pack, that they had once run a polecat twelve miles from the place where they found his cold drag, and