MR. ST. JOHN'S WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS

Is the "experience" of an enthusiast in field-sports and "fern; naturte." In his boyish days, master Charles trapped the field-mouse and the wheat-ear, till in due time he arrived at the dignity of a Highland deer- stalker and an eagle-slayer. For some years past his love of nature and field-sports have induced him to fix his residence in one of the most va- rious parts of Morayshire, as far as country is concerned, near where the Findhorn river empties itself into the bay of the same name. Tidal pe- culiarities, giving plenty of food, render the sands the resort of all kinds of water-fowl ; and the country, varying from the cultivated farm to the barren sand-hills, the forest, and the mountain, contains game of all kinds from the everyday partridge to the stag and roe. Mr. St. John, how- ever, does not confine his attention to game. The wild-cat, or any kind of " vermin," the eagle, the falcon, and all the so-called noble birds, are as much objects of his attention as creatures more profitable to the pot. Nay, he does not disdain the humbler tribe of finches and so forth ; and as for the water, "all's fish that comes to net." " Animal sum, nil ani- male a me alientun puto." All that Mr. St. John requires is cha- racter. Grant but that, he would as soon watch a coney as a nobler dog, and sooner if the mind predominated in the humbler creature. Mr. St. John has also a taste for landscape—natural scenery in all its phases : and, having a strong constitution hardened by exercise and ex- posure, he has been able to survey nature in seasons and situations from which less trained and robust persons must necessarily shrink. Com- bining in himself a taste for writing with a love of sport, he has kept journals of his exploits, his observations, and the scenery which im- pressed him. And from these rough notes put into shape the present publication is produced. Everything in uncultivated nature is poetical, either in itself or its ap- plication. The question is one of degree. The frequent rural allusions in Shakspere present the most condensed essence of this natural poetry, and next to them possibly some passages in Burns. The most expanded example, yet retaining poetical character, is in Cowper's Task : a little more diffusion—a line nearer a level, and the poetry would have been turned into fettered prose. In nature itself, however, we all recognize the poetical feeling; and the common, the wild wood, the " unimproved " shore, or even the neglected by-lane, impress the frequenter with the feeling ; though he cannot give it a distinct shape, still less effectively convey it to others,—both of which, indeed, are the poet's business. Analogous to this influence of nature is the matter of this book. Mr. St. John is very far from a poet : Wild Sports of the Highlands is quite as far from being poetical,--on the contrary, it sometimes approaches prosy prose ; and the author's style is only lifted above the literal by that sort of animal effort that characterizes the sportsman writer. But Mr. St. John is an enthusiastic lover of nature ; lie draws directly from nature; and we feel something of the same feeling as we should expe- rience in being present at the scenes themselves, however laboured and detailed the description may be, and occasionally tainted by that slang which in sporting, as in other pursuits, distinguishes the over-zealous follower.

But description is not the only characteristic of' Wild Sports. There are tales of sporting exploits, many little narratives of excursions, and, sometimes standing alone, sometimes mingled with other parts, numerous anecdotes of animals ; which are the most interesting and perhaps the most valuable portions of the book. As contributions to natural history, Mr. St. John's observations may not have the value the titlepage attaches to them; for he seems somewhat deficient in physiological knowledge, and to act upon the principle of the professor in the Vicar of Wakefield—" In short, as I don't know Greek, I don't believe there is any good in it." His anecdotes, however, add to those stores of facts which relate to the instinctive or mental powers of animals ; and his observations will con- tribute to our knowledge of the habits of many of the denizens of earth,. air, and water.

The form of the book is irregular, and the treatment desultory. Six- and-thirty chapters are sometimes devoted to a single subject—as deer- coursing, fox-hunting in the Highlands ; and at other times to several subjects, generally having some relation to each other, though this con- nexion is not always observed.

From causes we have indicated, Wild Sports, though full enough of matter, is somewhat slow reading ; yet it is perhaps better fitted for perusal in whole than in part, at least as regards chapters. As the book is alike seasonable for the sportsman and the tourist, it will doubtless be in many hands and many pockets; but we will notwithstanding draw upon its pages for some anecdotes or advice.

HINTS FOR THE MOORS.

Daring the heats of August, when at a loss for grouse, I have always found it a good plan to hunt round any lake that may be at hand, as the old birds lead their young daily to the waters edge to drink, and to pick up the small angular stones, numbers of which are invariably found in the stomach of the grouse; being probably necessary to grind down their dry and hard food. The hen-harrier and falcon, too, seem to hunt in these places; ',mowing that if grouse fail them, they are sure to find either a clack or snipe, or perhaps a large flock of plovers huddled together on the pebbles which edge the water. In fact, the mountain lake seems to be always a kind of rendezvous for all wild animals; and I doubt if any grouse-shooter or deer-stalker ever passes near their clear waters without going out of his way to look along the margin, or to refresh himself by gazing over the cool surface.

When you are shooting, too, there is the inducement of hoping to find a brood of ducks or teal, which few hill lakes are without. I have sometimes found great numbers of these birds collected in some quiet pool on the hills in August or September, before they have descended to feed on the corn in the low country.

ARTS OF THE ROE.

They are possessed of great cunning in doubling and turning to elude these persevering enemies. I used to shoot roe to fox-hounds; and one day was much amused by watching an old roebuck who had been run for some time by three of my dogs. I was lying concealed en a height above him, and saw the poor annual go upon a small mound covered with young fir-trees. He stood there till the hounds were close on him, though not in view; then taking a great leap at right angles to the course in which he had before been running, he lay flat down with his head on the ground, completely throwing out the hounds, who had to cast about in order to find his track again: when one bitch appeared to be coming straight upon the buck, he rose quietly up, and crept in a stooping position round the mound, getting behind the dogs. f.n this way, on a very small space of ground, he managed for a quarter of an hour to keep out of view of, though close to three capital hounds well accustomed to roe-hunting. Sometimes he squatted flat on the ground;and at others leaped off at an angle; till, having rested himself and the hounds having made a wide cast, fancying that he had left the place, the buck took an opportunity to slip off unobserved, and, crossing an opening in the wood, came straight up the hill to me; when I shot him. [Ungenerous !l

TESTS OF A KEEPER..

I have always been of opinion that nine keepers out of ten who carry guns are but of little use in destroying vermin. The brrand desideratum in preserving game is, that the animals should be left in perfect quiet. A man walking about with a gun in his hand, shooting at magpies and crows, does nearly as much mis- chief to the preserves as if he shot at the game itself. A quiet intelligent trapper does more good in killing vermin than a dozen men with guns. The former sees a pair of crows or a stoat: if he is well skilled in his profession, the creatures are dead by the next day; having been caught without noise, and without disturbing a single head of those animals which are required to be kept in peace and quiet. The shooting keeper, in making his way. through woods and coverts to get shots at vermin, often fails in killing it, but is sure to disturb and molest the game, driving it here and there, and exposing it to the view and attacks of hawks and poachers. I have always a far better opinion of the usefulness of a keeper when I see him with a number of traps on his shoulder, than when he carries his gun always with him. It is no bad amusement occa-

sionally to accompany an intelligent and experienced trapper on his rounds, and see his plans to deceive and entice the fox and the otter, the hawk or the raven.

USE OF TOBACCO.

I Sod that a sure mode of driving all animals of this kind out of a hole is to smoke tobacco into it. They appear quite unable to stand the smell; and bolt out immediately in the face of dog or man, rather than put up with it. To- bacco-smoke will also bring a ferret out of a rabbit-hole when everything else fails to do so.

DEFENCE OF THE GOOSE.

It is a great libel to accuse a goose of being a silly bird. EMI a tame goose shows much instinct and attachment; and were its habits more closely observed, the tame goose would be found to be by no means wanting in general cleverness. Its watchfulness at night-time is, and always has been, proverbial; and it certainly is endowed with a strong organ of self-preservation. You may drive over dog, cat, hen, or pig; but I defy you to drive over a tame goose. As for wild geese, I know of no animal, biped or quadruped, that is so difficult to deceive or ap- proach. Their senses of hearing, seeing, and smelling, are all extremely acute; independently of which, they appear to act in so organized and cautious a man- ner when feeding or roosting as to defy all danger. Many a time has my utmost caution been of no avail in attempting to approach these birds: either a careless step on a piece of gravel, or an eddy of wind, however light, or letting them per- ceive the smallest portion of my person, has rendered useless whole hours of ma- nceuvering.

"Handsome is that handsome does," and the utility and friendly quali- ties of the dog give him a conspicuous place in Mr. St. John's pages. Here are some stories of his retriever.

" Different dogs are differently endowed in this respect, [mental qualities,] but much also depends on their education, manner of living, &c. The dog that lives with his master constantly, sleeping before his fire, instead of in the kennel, and hearing and seeing all that passes, learns, if at all quick-witted, to understand not only the meaning of what he sees going on, but also, frequently in the most won- derful manner, all that is talked of. I have a favourite retriever, a black water- spaniel, who for many years has lived in the house, and been constantly with me: he understands and notices everything that is said, if it at all relates to himself or to the sporting plans for the day: if at breakfast-time I say, without addressing the dog himself, 'Rover must stop at home today, I cannot take him out,' he never attempts to follow me; if, on the contrary, f say, however quietly, ' I shall take Rover with me today,' the moment that breakfast is over he is all on the qui vim, following me wherever I go, evidently aware that he is to be allowed to accompany me. When left at home, he sits on the step of the front-door, looking out for my return, occasionally howling and barking in an ill-tempered kind of voice: his great delight is going with me when I hunt the woods for roe and deer. I had some covers about five miles from the house, where we were accustomed to look for roe: we frequently made our plans over night while the dog was in the mom. One day, for some reason, I did not take him: in consequence of this, in- variably when he heard us at night forming our plan to beat the woods, Rover Started alone very early in the morning, and met us up there. He always went to the cottage where we assembled, and, sitting on a hillock in front of it, which commanded a view of the road by which we came, waited for us: when he saw us coming, he met us with a peculiar kind of grin on his face, expressing, as well SS words could, his half doubt of being well received in consequence of his having come without permission: the moment he saw that I was not angry with him, he threw off all has affectation of shyness, and barked and jumped upon me with the most grateful delight.

" The first time that he saw me kill a deer, he was very much surprised:I was walking alone with him through some woods in Ross-shire, looking for wood- cocks; I had killed two or three, when I saw such recent signs of deer, that I drew the shot from one barrel and replaced it with ball. rthen continued my walk. Before I had gone far, a fine barren bind sprung out of a thicket; and as she crossed a small hollow, going directly away from me, I fired at her, breaking her back-bone with the bullet: of course she dropped immediately, and kover, who was a short distance behind me, rushed forward in the direction of the shot, ex- ' to have to pick up a woodcock; but on coming up to the bind, who was

egg lingg on the ground, he ran round her with a look of astonishment; and then cam-Clack to me with an expression in his face plainly saying, What have you done now? you have shot a cow or something.' But on my explaining to him that the hind was fair game, be ran up to her and seized her by the throat like a hull-dog. Ever afterwards he was peculiarly fond of deer-hunting, and became a great adept, and of great use. When I sent him to assist two or three hounds to start a roe, as soon as the hounds were on the scent, Rover always came back to me and waited at the pass. I could enumerate endless anecdotes of his clever feats in this way.

" Though a most aristocratic dog in his usual habits, when staying with me in England once, he struck up an acquaintance with a rat catcher and his curs; and used to assist in their business when he thought that nothing else was to be done; entering into their way of going on, watching motionless at the rats-holes when the ferrets were in; and, as the rat-catcher told me, he was the best dog of them all, and always to be depended on for showing if a rat was in a hole, corn-stack, or elsewhere; never giving a false alarm, or failing to give a true one. The moment, however, that he saw me, he instantly cut his humble friends, and denied all acquaintance with them, in the most comical manner."