"Roderick," said he, "do you think this neighborhood was ever
inhabited?"

"Inhabited?" said Roderick, turning in surprise. "Oh, ay, it was
inhabited ahlways--by foxes and eagles."

"Not by human beings?"

"Well, they would be ferry clever that could get a living out of land
like this," Roderick said, simply.

"But they say in the House of Commons that the deer-forests are
depriving a large portion of the population of a means of subsistence,"
Lionel observed--rather breathlessly, for these long strides were
fearful.

"Ay, do they say that now?" Roderick made answer, with much simplicity.
"In the House of Commons? I'm thinking there is some foolish men in the
House of Commons. Mebbe they would not like themselves to come here and
try to get their living out of rocks and peat-hags."

"But don't you think there may have been people in these parts before
the ancient forests rotted down into peat?" Lionel again inquired.

"I do not know about that," Roderick said, discreetly; perhaps he knew
that his opinions about prehistoric man were not of great value.

But what Lionel discovered was that talking in no wise interfered with
the tremendous pace of the forester; and he was just on the point of
begging for a respite from this intolerable exertion when a change in
their direction caused both Roderick and the gillie to proceed more
circumspectly: they were now coming in view of the Corrie-nam-Miseag,
and they had to approach with care, slinking along through hollows and
behind mounds and rocks.

By this time, it must be confessed, Lionel was thoroughly dead-beat: he
was wet through, icily cold, and miserable to the verge of despair. The
afternoon was well advanced; they had seen no sign of a stag anywhere;
the gloomy evening threatened to bring darkness on prematurely; and but
for very shame's sake, he would have entreated them to abandon this
fruitless enterprise, and set out for the far-off region of warmth and
reasonable comfort and dry clothes. And yet when Roderick, having
crawled up to the top of a small height, suddenly and eagerly signalled
for Lionel to follow him, all this hopeless lassitude was instantly
forgotten. His heart began to burn, if his limbs were deadly cold; and
quickly he was on the ground, too, moving himself up alongside the
keeper. The glass was given him, but his trembling fingers could not
hold it straight; he put it down, and by and by his natural eyes showed
him what he thought were s