MR. PIPS HIS DIARY.
always open and their Noſes to the Wind, and do think and reaſon in their Minds like human Beings; which, methinks, is peculiar to the Scotch Deer. He ſays that the Sport is to fetch a Compaſs on them by Stratagem, ſo as to approach or drive them nigh enough to moot them with a Rifle, and it do often take ſome Hours and ſeveral Miles, moſtly crawling on the Hands and Knees, to get one Shot. He ſays that the Stalker and Hill-Keepers that wait on him muſt, to gain their Chance, dodge, ſtooping behind Crags, wriggle and creep over Flats and up Brooks like Snakes or Eels, clamber up and run down Precipices, and ſtride over Bogs, wherein they do ſometimes ſink plump up to the Middle; which mould be rather Sport to the Stag than the Huntfman. But after all, the Deer ſhot dead, or wounded, and at Bay with the Hounds at his Throat, but deſpatched at laſt, and paunched, which he do call "gralloched," is ſuch a Triumph that it do repay the Sportſman for all his Pains. He do ſay that what with the Grandeur of the Mountains, and the Freſhneſs of the Air, the Spirits are raiſed beyond what we could imagine, and the Appetite alſo increaſed wonderfully; whereat Mr. Gollope did prick up his Ears. To conclude, he did declare that no one could know what Deer-Stalking was that had not tried it; but methinks I can, remembering how I uſed in my Youth to creep in Ditches and behind Hedges to ſhoot Larks.
