flower-beds and lawns, to the wild pine-woods, with all their solemn grandeur, Robin's delight knew no bounds; and it was only when poor Lovey showed signs of weariness, that he could be persuaded to confess himself hungry, though he did full justice to the cold beef and cheese, while poor Lovey was munching her crushed corn. The twilight was fast deepening into night as they reached the house of the friend who was to give them food for man and beast.

Early the next morning, the three were on their road. Lovey was growing stiff and old, and she began to droop her head, and seek the turnings off the road as often as she spied them.

'We'll stop here, Robin,' said Mr Moore, and rest old Lovey, and you and I will go and see Gilderoy's cave.'

'What! was he a real robber, papa? Oh! how fine!'

The little inn was not inviting; so, stabling the old mare, Robin and his father, directed by the grinning stable-boy, proceeded through a birch-wood to the famous 'Burn of the Vat.' I don't think there are many little Scotch laddies and lasses who have not smelt that sweetest of all perfumes, the scent of a birchen-wood. The dew of early autumn lay in spangles on grass and spray, and the graceful branches drooped over their heads, and here and there a noble pine towered high over them, while the late bees were humming over the heather blooms, and many a bright-eyed rabbit peeped at them, and then scuttled away into its burrow. On they went till the trees dwindled away till they were mere shrubs, while the country spread out wild and bare before them for many a mile; while flocks of sheep were dotted over the hill-sides, with their faithful collies lying in watch by their masters' side.

Is it very much further, papa ?' said poor Robin, whose legs began to ache somewhat, and whose face was scorched by the blazing sunbeams which poured

down on the travellers as they toiled along the dusty road. At last they began a gradual ascent; and, after half-an-hour's climb, found themselves looking down into the Vat' from the top. The sides caved inwards so as to make it somewhat perilous to go too near, and one solitary tree waved its boughs over the freebooter's refuge.

'Well, now, Robin, here's a sad fix. We are all wrong; for, instead of coming up here, we should have gone down along that footpath beside the burn.'

'Oh, papa!' said poor Robin, 'must we go back all the three miles again?'

'No, no, Robin; I think we'll manage it better than that-so come on along this braeside.'

A few hundred yards further the brae sloped down to the side of the burn which flowed through the cave; but Robin, who had been too excited to eat much breakfast before starting, was quite sick and giddy, declared he could not go down such a steep place.

'Well,' said his father, 'I know how we'll manage it; sit down, and take my stick in your hand, and slide down.'

No sooner said than done. Started by a gentle push from his father, Robin began his descent; and at length arrived, though somewhat in a dishevelled condition, at the foot, where the 'burnie wimpled' through soft green banks of emerald grass. Robin took a long drink from the fresh, cool water, washed his dusty face and hands, and then started for the cave. A large triangular stone blocks up and conceals the entrance to this pretty cave, and having squeezed through, they found themselves in a large, round cavern, the rocky sides overhanging so far as to leave only a small space open to the sky. The ground was carpeted with short, mossy turf of the most lovely green, while the burn ran through the centre; and here, the country people say, the Winsome Gilderoy' used to hide when the pursuit was hottest. Robin sat down, while his father repeated the Ballad of Gilderoy;

and then, rested and cooled, they retraced their steps to the little inn.

'But, papa, we have never seen a wild deer yet, have we?'

Have patience, Robin, and I don't despair of seeing one, or perhaps a herd, to-morrow.'

'Oh! I hope we will! They must be so pretty in

their own woods !'

That night they reached a fine farm on the borders of a large wood. After supper, as the moon was shining bright as day, their kind host proposed a stroll in the garden; and just as they reached the foot of the path which led into the field beyond, Mr Fraser held up his hand and made a sign for them to look towards the wood. At first Robin saw nothing but what seemed a dark line of shadow thrown by the trees on the grass; but presently it wavered, and, breaking up into patches, became transformed, in the silvery moonbeams, from shadowy forms into a herd of about twenty or thirty roe-deer. Their leader or sentinel advanced cautiously first; and, lifting his fine antlered head, he seemed to be spying out the land. Fortunately, the night was very still; and as the wind blew from them to the watchers, they suspected not how closely they were watched, and, following the leader, they began to browse most contentedly on the fine grass which was being carefully kept for the cows. Kind Mr Fraser took this spoiling of his goods with great patience and forbearance, knowing how pleased Robin was with seeing the pretty animals so close; but when a summons to come to the house for supper made it necessary to go in, he said, 'Now, Robin, give your hands a loud clap, and you'll see a scamper!' Two claps of the hand and a shout from Robin, and the whole herd vanished like the 'baseless fabric of a vision,' but in this case they did leave a wreck behind, for next morning, when Robin looked at the place, he was astonished to see large patches of the juicy clover eaten bare, and still larger patches trampled down into the

ground-for deer, as also most wild game, are very destructive and wasteful in their eating. Indeed, the wild rabbit destroys more than three times what it eats, by biting out little bits at the sides of the turnip and carrot, and so destroying its growth.

Robin and his father then started on their way, and two nights after they reached Braemar, where they slept; and, rising at six, and taking a horse and gig from the inn, they drove to the beautiful Linn of Dee. Before turning down to the bridge which spans the Dee at the Linn, Mr Moore was trying to fall upon some plan by which they could leave the horse and dog-cart, and walk over the bridge, and see the three last of the old firs of the vast Forest of Mar. In the midst of various schemes a loud screech was heard behind, and then, bounding over the heather and 'moss pots' came a little fellow about Robin's age, with nothing on but a ragged kilt, and that of the scantiest. The nimble feet soon covered the distance between them, and the wee chap stood breathless and eager beside the horse's head, jabbering in Gaelic as fast as his tongue could wag. It was a case as difficult almost of management as a 'palaver' with a native of New, not Old Caledonia, but the sight of a bright new shilling and some pantomimic signs about the horse's head, seemed to clear up matters wonderfully, so, jumping up behind, he seemed to settle the matter unconditionally.

At the 'Linn' an old wooden bridge stretched across the dark chasm, while the water boiled and struggled in its rocky prison. Little Robin squeezed his father's hand tightly as they stood on the crazy old Bridge, and looked down into the dark waters below, and the bright tears rolled down his cheeks as his father told him how, two years before, a fine boy of fifteen had in bravado jumped across the Linn, and in recrossing had struck his head on the rock, and been carried away by the greedy waters; to be taken home, cold and dead, to his mother, who had only parted with him a few hours before.

'He was the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.'

They had only just crossed the bridge, when a fine old man, mounted on a white Highland pony, came up to them, and, having exchanged the usual greetings, seeing they were strangers, he began to point out the remains of the old Forest of Mar. Three noble Scotch firs still stand, the last survivors of the 'forest primeval' which at one time lay dark and solemn like a mantle at the foot of the everlasting hills, and where large herds of the noble red deer found food and shelter; and, doubtless, the wolf and the fox, the badger and the wild cat, found their lairs and dens. The old gamekeeper proved a pleasant guide and companion, and told many stories of his adventures in deer-stalking, ending by offering to show Robin the finest deerhounds in Scotland. The time was fast running on, and they had their breakfast to get; and so, presenting the little horseboy with his promised shilling, which made his black eyes glisten beneath his shock of shaggy hair, they turned the horse's head homewards.

And what a splendid breakfast was waiting them! Tea and coffee, ham and eggs, venison cutlets, kippered salmon, hot scones and cakes, with honey and preserves, did not tempt the travellers' appetites in vain. Robin declared he never was so hungry in all his life, and he did full justice to the good things before him.

And now they turned their horse's head towards the road which ran on the south side of the Dee, and which passed through the woods. The morning was lovely, and as they drove along, the stately pine-branches met over their heads, and the sunlight flecked the grass and ferns with glory, while the air was filled with the songs of the wild birds, and the late butterflies and dragonflies glanced through the openings, and made Robin half long to jump out and have a chase after the glittering beauties; but the day was wearing on, and they had 'many a league to go, to go' ere they reached their night's resting-place.

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