hillock. He only made a gesture, and getting my eye-glass above the
level, I saw quite a lot of deer, stags, and hinds, within fifty yards
of us. They were interested, apparently, in a party of shepherds,
walking on a road which crossed the moor at a distance, and had no
thoughts to spare for us. "Which am I to shoot?" I whispered.

"The big one, him between the two hinds to the left." I took deadly
aim, my heart beating audibly, like a rusty pump in a dry season.
My hands were shaking like aspen leaves, but I got the sight on him,
under his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, I pulled
the trigger of the second barrel. Nothing occurred. "Ye have the
safety-bolts in," whispered HUGH, and he accommodated that portion of
the machinery, which I do not understand. Was all this calculated to
set a man at his ease? I took aim afresh, pulled the trigger again.
Nothing! "Ye're on half-cock," whispered HUGH, adding some remark in
Gaelic, which, of course, I did not understand. Was it my fault? It
was not my own rifle, I repeat, and the hammers, at half-cock, looked
as high as those of my gun, full-cocked.

All this conversation had aroused the attention of the deer. Off they
scuttled at full speed, and I sent a couple of bullets vaguely after
them, in the direction of a small forest of horns which went tossing
down a glade. I don't think I hit anything, and HUGH, without making
any remark, took the rifle and strode off in a new direction. I was
nearly dead with fatigue, I was wishing Mr. BRYCE and the British
Tourist my share of Access to Mountains, when we reached the crown of
a bank above a burn, which commanded a view of an opposite slope. HUGH
wriggled up till his eyes were on a level with the crest, and got his
long glass out. After some interval of time, he wakened me, to say
that if I snored like that, I would not get a shot. Then he showed