Ronald turned to one of the stable-lads (all of whom were transformed into beaters on this occasion).
'Jimmy, just run over to the house and fetch my gun; and bid Maggie put twenty cartridges--number 4, she knows where they are--into the bag; and then ye can take the gun and the cartridge-bag down to the boat--and be giving her a bale-out till I come along. I'm going to the farm now, to get two more lads if I can; tell the Doctor I'll no be long after him, if he gets down to the loch first.'
Some quarter of an hour thereafter they set forth; and a rough pull it was down the loch, for the wind was blowing hard, and the waves were coming broadside on. Those who were at the oars had decidedly the best of it, for it was bitterly cold; but even the others did not seem to mind much--they were chiefly occupied in scanning the sky-line of the hills (a habit that one naturally falls into in a deer country), while Ronald and the Doctor, seated in the stern, were mostly concerned about keeping their guns dry. In due course of time they landed, made their way through a wood of young birch-trees, followed the channel of a burn for a space, and by and by began to reach the upper slopes, where the plans for the first drive were carefully drawn out and explained.
Now it is unnecessary to enter into details of the day's achievements, for they were neither exciting nor difficult nor daring. It was clearly a case of shooting for the pot; although Ronald, in his capacity of keeper, was anxious to have the hares thinned down, knowing well enough that the over-multiplying of them was as certain to bring in disease as the overstocking of a mountain farm with sheep. But it may be said that the sport, such as it was, was done in a workmanlike manner. In Ronald's case, each cartridge meant a hare--and no praise to him, for it was his business. As for the Doctor, he was not only an excellent shot, but he exercised a wise and humane discretion as well. Nothing would induce him to fire at long range on the off-chance of hitting; and this is all the more laudable in the shooting of mountain hares, for these, when wounded, will frequently dodge into a hole among the rocks, like a rabbit, baffling dogs and men, and dying a miserable death. Moreover, there was no need to take risky shots. The two guns were posted behind a stone or small hillock--lying at full length on the ground, only their brown-capped heads and the long barrels being visible. Then the faint cries in the distance became somewhat louder--with sticks rattled on rocks, and stones flung here and there; presently, on the sky-line of the plateau, a small object appeared, sitting upright and dark against the sky; then it came shambling leisurely along--becoming bigger and bigger and whiter and whiter every moment, until at length it showed itself almost like a cat, but not running stealthily like a cat, rather hopping forward on its ungainly high haunches; and then again it would stop and sit up, its ears thrown back, its eyes not looking at anything in front of it, its snow-white body, with here and there a touch of bluish-brown, offering a tempting target for a pea-rifle. But by this time, of course, numerous others had come hopping over the sky-line; and now as the loud yells and shouts and striking of stones were close at hand, there was more swift running instead of hobbling and pausing among the white frightened creatures; and as they cared for nothing in front (in fact a driven hare cannot see anything that is right ahead of it, and will run against your boots if you happen to be standing in the way), but sped noiselessly across the withered grass and hard clumps of heather--bang! went the first barrel, and then another and another, as quick as fingers could unload and reload, until here, there, and everywhere--but always within a certain radius from the respective posts--a white object lay on the hard and wintry ground. The beaters came up to gather them together; the two guns had risen from their cold quarters; there were found to be thirteen hares all told--a quite sufficient number for this part--and not one had crawled or hobbled away wounded.