FLOOD SUBSIDES.

153

LETTER XVI.

Flood subsides.-Post-bag arrives.-My Cousin's Henchmen. Their description. - Messenger belated in the mountains.—The Fairy Glen.-Herd of Red Deer.-Their destruction by Poachers.-Gradual decrease.-Difficulties in continuing them.-Anecdotes.-Rearing the Fawns.Sterility when domesticated.-Red Deer in parks.-The Tame Hind.-The Tyrawly Stag.-Skill requisite in shooting Deer.-Curious Anecdote.

How rapidly the waters of a mountain river swell and subside! Last night the steep bank before the cabin door was scarcely visible above the swollen and discoloured stream. The flood is gone; the river has recovered its silvery hue, and no traces of yesterday's violence appear, save the huge masses of turf left by the receding waters on the shore, which, from their size, prove how fierce the torrent was when at its height.

We have been expecting a messenger with the post-bag. Three days have elapsed since its last arrival. There will be an accumulation

of newspapers. What a treasure they would have been yesterday! Ha! there is a bustle in the outer cabin; no doubt an arrival. It is the messenger.

I never saw finer samples of the mountain peasantry than this man and his brother exhibit. They are scarcely to be known asunder; young, particularly handsome, five feet eleven inches, light, active, clean-limbed, perfect specimens of strength and symmetry combined; good-humoured, indefatigable, and obliging, submissive to the Master's nod, and yet the boldest and handiest boys in Ballycroy. I sometimes look after my kinsman as he strides over the moors with his handsome. henchmen at his back. He walks as if the province was his own; bold, and careless, and confident-no wonder those wild fellows are his fosterers, and they would shed the last drop of their blood for "the Master," if he required it.

This fidelity and devotion on the one side, is requited by kindness and protection on the other. These men have lived about the Lodge from boyhood; they come and depart as they please. At spring and harvest-times they repair to the village where their parents reside, to assist the old couple and the girls, in getting the potatoes in and out of ground—they tend the cattle in the mountains when requisite, and

pass the remainder of the year following the Master to the moors, or to the river, catching fish, netting rabbits, or killing wild-fowl in the winter; and dancing, drinking, and fighting on holidays and festivals, as becomes good men and loyal subjects.

When they marry-for Malthus and restrictions upon population are no more recognized in Erris than the Pope is by a modern Methodist-they will obtain a patch of mountain from their patron, erect a cabin, construct a still, and setting political dogmas at defiance, then and there produce most excellent whiskey, and add to "the seven millions" considerably.

The messenger presented himself with the post-bag, being anxious to render a personal account of the causes of his delay. His night's adventure is quite characteristic of the wild life, and bold and reckless spirit of these mountain peasants.

The route to the next post-town lies through the ridge of hills which I have already described, as bounding the valley where we are quartered. The usual way to reach it is by an old and rugged horse-path, which, although seldom frequented now, was fifty years since the only means of communication which Erris had with the southern baronies. This easier, but more circuitous route was abandoned by the

young peasant, who hoped, by directly crossing the heights, to arrive at the cabin before the night shut in. He took this perilous direction accordingly; the rain was still falling fast, and when he topped the ridge of the hills, the valley beneath was covered by a dense mist; presently the mountain streams rose, and the light failed; to advance or retreat was impossible,and the isolated peasant had no choice left but. to seek a shelter in the rocks, and remain there until morning dawned. He easily discovered a fissure in the steep bank above the river, crept in-" blessed himself"-and lay down to sleep upon his cold and rugged bed.

What situation could be more desolate and

heart-sinking than this? Imprisoned among savage mountains, perched in a wild rock far above the rest of mankind, separated from human help by an impassable torrent, cold, hungry, and exhausted-yet all these dejecting circumstances were unheeded by the hardy mountaineer. He had but one source of terror-the otter-hunter had often described this glen as a favourite haunt of fairies-and "what would become of him if the gentle people caught him

there?"

The midnight hour passed, however, without any supernatural visitation; no fairy revelry disturbed the peasant's slumbers; the

rain ceased; the flood was falling; the chough* and raven were preparing to take wing; and while the first faint light was breaking through the mountain mists, Cormac, anxious to quit his cheerless bivouac, crawled out from his cold retreat.

Suddenly, from above, an indistinct noise alarmed him. Feet clattered down the rocky path; a rush, a snorting, announced their near approach, and a herd of deer appeared within half a stone's cast. They traversed the narrow

* Cornish chough, or red-legged crow. (Corvus Gracilis, Linn.-Le Coracias, Buff.) This bird is about the size of the jackdaw. The bill is long, curved, sharp at the tip, and of a bright red colour; the iris of the eye is composed of two circles, the outer one red, the inner one blue; the eye-lids are red; the plumage is altogether of a purplish-violet black; the legs are as red as the bill; the claws are large, hooked, and black.

Buffon describes the bird " as of an elegant figure, lively, restless, and turbulent, but it may be tamed to a certain degree." It builds on high cliffs, by the sea-side, and chiefly frequents the coasts of Devonshire and Cornwall, and likewise many parts of Wales: a few are found on the Dover Cliffs, and some in Scotland. The female lays four or five white eggs, spotted with yellow. It is a voracious, bold, and greedy bird, and feeds on insects and berries; it is said to be particularly fond of the juniper-berry. Its manners are like those of a jackdaw. It is attracted by glittering objects. Buffon says that it has been known to pull from the fire lighted pieces of wood, to the no small danger of the house.-Bewick.