Three Boys; Or, The Chiefs of the Clan Mackhai

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

  THE STAG MAX DID NOT SHOOT.

  "I say, Max!" said Kenneth one day, as they sat at either end of a boat,whipping away at the surface of the rippling water of one of the inlandlochs, up to which the said boat had been dragged years before, uponrough runners like a sleigh, partly by the ponies, partly by handlabour. Scoodrach was seated amidships, rowing slowly, and every nowand then tucking his oar under his leg, to give his nose a rub, andgrumble something about "ta flee."

  This was on the occasion when the fly Max was throwing came dangerouslynear hooking into the gristle of the young gillie's most prominentfeature.

  Kenneth did not finish his sentence, for just then he hooked a troutwhich gave him a fair amount of play before it was brought alongside,where Scoodrach, who had ceased rowing, was ready with the landing-net.

  "Let me land it," cried Max; and, taking the net, he held it as he hadseen Scoodrach perform the same operation a score of times.

  "All right!" cried Kenneth. "He's a beauty; pound and a half, I know.Now then--right under."

  Kenneth's elastic rod was bent nearly double, as Max leaned forward,and, instead of lowering the net well into the water so that the fishmight glide into it, he made an excited poke, and struck the fish withthe ring; there was a faint whish as the rod suddenly straightened; asplash as the trout flapped the water with its tail and went off free,and Max and Kenneth stared at each other.

  "She couldna hae done tat," muttered Scoodrach.

  "Yes, you could, stupid!" said Kenneth, glad of some one upon whom hecould vent his spleen. "You've knocked ever so many fish off that way."

  "I'm very, very sorry," said Max humbly.

  "That won't bring back the trout," grumbled Kenneth. "Never mind, oldchap, I'll soon have another. Why don't you go on throwing?"

  "Because I am stupid over it. I shall never throw a fly properly."

  "Not if you give up without trying hard. Go on and have another goodturn. Whip away. It'll come easier soon."

  Max went on whipping away, but his success was very small, for he grewmore and more nervous as he saw that Scoodrach flinched every time hemade a cast, as if the hook had come dangerously near his eyes.

  Once or twice there really had been reason for this, but, seeing hownervous it made Max, Scoodrach kept it up, taking a malicious delight inducking his head, rubbing his nose, and fidgeting the tyro, who wouldgladly have laid down his rod but for the encouraging remarks made byKenneth.

  All at once the latter turned his head, from where he stood in the bowsof the boat, and began watching Max, smiling grimly as he saw how clumsya cast was made, and the smile grew broader as he noticed Scoodrach'sexaggerated mock gesticulations of dread.

  Then there was another cast, and Scood ducked his head down again. Thenanother cast, and Scood threw his head sideways and held up one arm, butthis time the side of his bare head came with a sounding rap up againstthe butt of Kenneth's rod.

  "Mind what you're doing!" shouted Kenneth.

  "Hwhat tid ye do that for?" cried Scoodrach, viciously rubbing hissconce.

  "Do it for? Why don't you sit still, and not get throwing your headabout all over the boat?"

  "She tid it o' purpose," growled Scoodrach; "and she's cooard to hit aman pehind her pack."

  "If you call me a coward, Scoody, I'll pitch you overboard."

  "No, she wouldna. She has not get pack her strength."

  "Then Max will help me, and we'll see then."

  "Pitch her overboard, then, and she'll swim ashore, and she'll hae torow ta poat her ainsel'."

  But Scoodrach had no occasion to swim, for he was not pitched overboard;and, as the wind dropped and the water became like glass, the rods werelaid in, and Scoodrach rowed them along in sulky silence toward theshore; Kenneth, as he sat now beside his companion, returning to theidea he had been about to start some time before.

  "I say, Max," he said, "I wonder what's the matter with father. I wishold Curzon was here. I think the pater is going to be ill."

  "I hope not."

  "So do I; but he always seems so dull, and talks so little."

  "I thought he seemed to be very quiet."

  "Quiet! I should think he is. Why, he used to be always going outshooting or fishing, and taking me. Now, he's continually going toGlasgow on business, or else to Edinburgh."

  "When do you expect him back?"

  "I don't know. He said it was uncertain. Perhaps he'll be there whenwe get home."

  But The Mackhai was not back, and a fortnight elapsed, and still he wasaway.

  The last few days seemed to have quite restored Kenneth, who, once ableto be out on the mountains, recovered strength at a wonderful rate.

  Those were delightful days to Max. His old nervousness was rapidlyleaving him, and he was never happier than when out with the two ladsfishing, shooting, boating, or watching Kenneth as he stood spear-armedin the bows, trying to transfix some shadowy skate as it glided as ifflying over the sandy bottom of the sea-loch.

  One grandly exciting day to Max was on the occasion of a deer-stalkingexpedition, which resulted, through the clever generalship of Tavish, inboth lads getting a good shot at a stag.

  Max was first, and, after a long, wearisome climb, he lay among somerocks for quite a couple of hours, with Tavish, watching a herd of deer,before the time came when, under the forester's guidance, the deadlyrifle, which Max had found terribly heavy, was rested upon a stone, andTavish whispered to him,--

  "Keep ta piece steady on ta stane, laddie, and when ta stag comes welloot into ta glen, ye'll chust tak' a glint along ta bar'l and aim richtat ta showlder, and doon she goes."

  Max's hands trembled, his heart beat fast, and the perspiration stood onhis brow, as he waited till, from out of a narrow pass which they hadbeen watching, a noble-looking stag trotted slowly into the glen, and,broadside on, turned its head in their direction.

  Max saw the great eyes, the branching antlers, and, in his excitement,the forest monarch seemed to be of huge proportions.

  "Noo!" was whispered close to his ear; and, "glinting" along the barrel,after fixing the sight right upon the animal's flank, Max drew thetrigger, felt as if some one had struck him a violent blow in theshoulder, and then lay there on his chest, gazing at a cloud of smokeand listening to the rolling echoes as they died away.

  "Aweel, aweel!" said a voice close by him, in saddened tones. "Ye'reverra young, laddie. Ye'll hae to try again."

  "Isn't it dead?" said Max.

  "Na, she's no' deid, laddie."

  "But I don't see it. Where is the stag?"

  "Ahint the mountain yonder, laddie; going like the wind."

  "Oh!" said Max; and for the next few minutes he did not know which wayhe felt--sorry he had missed, or glad that the noble beast had got away.

  Kenneth was more successful. He brought down his quarry a couple ofhours later, and the rough pony carried home the carcase for Long Shonto break up, Max partaking of a joint of the venison a few days later,and thinking it was very good, and that he enjoyed it all the more fornot having shot the animal himself,--though he could not help tellingKenneth that the fat seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth.