Oh! the years, the years, they be rusty and mothy; Oh! the flesh it is weak that once was strong; But the brown burn under the stone falls frothy And the music it makes is a siren song; Then the pony’ll take you as far as the bothy, And that’ll help you along. See! from the tops the mist is stealing, Out with the stalking-glass for a spy; Round Craig an Eran an eagle’s wheeling Black in the blue September sky. A fig for the years! Why, youth and healing At the end of your journey lie. (Reprinted from _Punch_, Sept. 14, 1921, by kind permission of the Proprietors.) [Illustration: (Three Antlered Deer)] II STALKING IN ITS MOST ENJOYABLE FORM By far the most enjoyable form of stalking is to be one’s own stalker, but this can only be done satisfactorily in a forest with which one is thoroughly familiar. It is astonishing what tricks the wind will play in certain corries, and as a result what mistakes even a good stalker will make in a forest which is new to him. Moreover, any one stalking by himself, unless he has experience, may easily make another kind of mistake. He may think that he has missed a stag when he has in fact killed him. Any one who has had experience in shooting deer knows that a stag when shot through the heart will sometimes gallop for forty or fifty yards or even further and then fall down dead. [Illustration: “SEE! FROM THE TOPS THE MIST IS STEALING.” By FINLAY MACKINNON.]