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I HAVE lived for several
years in the northern counties of Scotland, and during the last four or
five in the province of Moray, a part of the country peculiarly adapted
for collecting facts in Natural History, and for becoming intimate with
the habits of many of our British wild birds and quadrupeds. Having been
in the habit of keeping an irregular kind of journal and of making notes
of any incidents which have fallen under my observation connected with the
zoology of the country, I have now endeavoured, by dint of cutting and
pruning those rough sketches, to put them into a shape calculated to
amuse, and perhaps, in some slight degree, to instruct some of my
fellow-lovers of Nature. From my earliest childhood I have been more
addicted to the investigation of the habits and manners of every kind of
living animal than to any more useful avocation, and have in consequence
made myself tolerably well acquainted with the domestic economy of most of
our British fercae naturae, from the field-mouse and wheatear,
which I stalked and trapped in the plains and downs of Wiltshire during my
boyhood, to the red deer and eagle, whose territory I have invaded in
later years on the mountains of Scotland.
My present abode in
Morayshire is surrounded by as great a variety of beautiful scenery as can
be found in any district in Britain ; and no part of the country can
produce a greater variety of objects of interest either to the naturalist
or to the lover of the picturesque. The rapid and glorious Findhorn, the
very perfection of a Highland river, here passes through one of the most
fertile plains in Scotland, or indeed in the world ; and though a few
miles higher up it rages through the wildest and most rugged rocks, and
through the romantic and shaded glens of the forests of Darnaway and
Altyre, the stream, as if exhausted, empties itself peaceably and quietly
into the Bay of Findhorn, a salt-water loch of some four or five miles in
length, entirely shut out by different points of land from the storms
which are so frequent in the Moray Firth, of which it forms a kind of
creek. At low-water this bay becomes an extent of wet sand, with the river
Findhorn and one or two smaller streams winding through it, till they meet
in the deeper part of the basin near the town of Findhorn, where there is
always a considerable depth of water, and a harbour for shipping.
From its sheltered
situation and the quantity of food left on the sands at low-water, the Bay
of Findhorn is always a great resort of wild-fowl of all kinds, from the
swan to the teal, and also of innumerable waders of every species.; while
occasionally a seal ventures into the mouth of the river in pursuit of
salmon. The bay is separated from the main water of the Firth by that most
extraordinary and peculiar range of country called the Sandhills of Moray,
a long, low range of hills formed of the purest sand, with scarcely any
herbage, excepting here and there patches of bent or broom, which are
inhabited by hares, rabbits, and foxes. At the extreme point of this range
is a farm of forty or fifty acres of arable land, where the tenant
endeavours to grow a scanty crop of grain and turnips, in spite of the
rabbits and the drifting sands. From the inland side of the bay stretch
the fertile plains of Moray, extending from the Findhorn to near Elgin in
a continuous flat of the richest soil, and comprising districts of the
very best partridge-shooting that can be found in Scotland, while the
streams and swamps that intersect it afford a constant supply of
wild-fowl. As we advance inland we are sheltered by the wide-extending
woods of Altyre, abounding with roe and game, and beyond these woods again
is a very extensive range of a most excellent grouse-shooting country,
reaching for many miles over a succession of moderately sized hills which
reach as far as the Spey.
On the west of the Findhorn
is a country beautifully dotted with woods, principally of oak and birch,
and intersected by a dark, winding burn, full of fine trout, and the
constant haunt of the otter. Between this part of the county and the
sea-coast is a continuation of the Sandhills, interspersed with lakes,
swamps, and tracts of fir-wood and heather. On the whole I do not know so
varied or interesting a district in Great Britain, or one so well adapted
to the amusement and instruction of a naturalist or sportsman. In the
space of a morning's walk you may be either in the most fertile or in the
most barren spot of the country. In my own garden every kind of wall-fruit
ripens to perfection, and yet at the distance of only two hours' walk you
may either be in the midst of heather and grouse, or in the sandy deserts
beyond the bay, where one wonders how even the rabbits can find their
living.
The varieties of the soil
and its productions, both animate and inanimate, will, however, be best
shown in the extracts from my note-books, with which these pages are
filled. My memorandums, having for the most part been written down at the
moment, and describing anecdotes and incidents that fell under my actual
observation, will at all events contain correct descriptions of the nature
and habits of the animals and birds of the country; though, not being
originally intended for publication, they are not arranged in any regular
order. Here and there I have quoted some anecdote of animals, which I have
heard from others : these I can only offer as I received them, but I can
safely assert that I have quoted the words of those persons only upon
whose veracity and powers of observation I could depend. My subject, as
connected both to natural history and sporting, has led me back to my
former wanderings in the more northern and wilder parts of the country,
where I had great opportunities of becoming acquainted with the habits of
the wilder and rarer birds and beasts, who are natives of those districts
; and the pursuit of whom always had greater charms for me than the more
commonplace occupations of grouse or partridge shooting.
I hope that my readers will
be indulgent enough to make allowances for the unfinished style of these
sketches, and the copious use of the first person singular, which I have
found it impossible to avoid whilst describing the adventures which I have
met with in this wild country, either when toiling up the rocky heights of
our most lofty mountains, or cruising in a boat along the shores, where
rocks and caves give a chance of finding sea-fowl and otters ; at one time
wandering over the desert sand-hills of Moray, where, on windy days, the
light particles of drifting sand, driven like snow along the surface of
the ground, are perpetually changing the outline and appearance of the
district; at another, among the swamps, in pursuit of wild ducks, or
attacking fish in the rivers, or the grouse on the heather.
For a naturalist, whether
he be a scientific dissector and preserver of birds, or simply a lover and
observer of the habits and customs of the different ferae naturae, large
and small, this district is a very desirable location, as there are very
few birds or quadrupeds to be found in any part of Great Britain, who do
not visit us during the course of the year, or, at any rate, are to be met
with within a few hours' drive. The bays and rivers attract all the
migratory water-fowl, while the hills, woods, and corn-lands afford
shelter and food to all the native wild birds and beasts. The vicinity too
of the coast to the wild western countries of Europe is the cause of our
being often visited by birds which are not strictly natives, nor regular
visitors, but are driven by continued east winds from the fastnesses of
the Swedish and Norwegian forests and mountains.
To the collector of stuffed
birds this county affords a greater variety of specimens than any other
district in the kingdom, whilst the excellence of the climate and the
variety of scenery make it inferior to none as a residence for the
unoccupied person or the sportsman.
Having thus described that
spot of the globe which at present is my resting-place, I may as well add
a few lines to enable my reader to become aquainted with myself, and that
part of my belongings which will come into question in my descriptions of
sporting, etc. To begin with myself, I am one of the unproductive class of
the genus Homo, who, having passed a few years amidst the active turmoil
of cities, and in places where people do most delight to congregate, have
at last settled down to live a busy kind of idle life. Communing much with
the wild birds and beasts of our country, a hardy constitution and much
leisure have enabled me to visit them in their own haunts, and to follow
my sporting propensities without fear of the penalties which are apt to
follow a careless exposure of oneself to cold and heat, at all hours of
night and day. Though by habit and repute a being strongly endowed with
the organ of destructiveness, I take equal delight in collecting round me
all living animals, and watching their habits and instincts ; my abode is,
in short, a miniature menagerie. My dogs learn to respect the persons of
domesticated wild animals of all kinds, and my pointers live in amity with
tame partridges and pheasants ; my retrievers lounge about amidst my
wild-fowl, and my terriers and beagles strike up friendship with the
animals of different kinds whose capture they have assisted in, and with
whose relatives they are ready to wage war to the death. A common and
well-kept truce exists with one and all. My boys, who are of the most
bird-nesting age (eight and nine years old), instead of disturbing the
numberless birds who breed in the garden and shrubberies, in full
confidence of protection and immunity from all danger of gun or snare,
strike up an aquaintance with every family of chaffinches or blackbirds
who breed in the place, visiting every nest, and watching over the eggs
and young with a most parental care.
My principal aide-de-camp
in my sporting excursions is an old man, who, although passing for
somewhat of a simpleton, has more acuteness and method in his vagaries
than most of his neighbours. For many years he seems to have lived on his
gun, but with an utter contempt of, and animosity against, all those who
employ the more ignoble means of snaring and trapping game; and this makes
him fulfil his duty as keeper better than many persons trained regularly
to that employment.
He is rather a peculiar
person in his way, and has a natural tendency to the pursuit of the rarer
and wilder animals, such as otters, seals, wild-fowl, etc.--which accords
well with my own tastes in the sporting line—many a day, and many a night
too, at all seasons, has he passed lying in wait for some seal or otter,
regardless of wet or cold.
His neighbours, though all
allowing that he was a most inveterate poacher, always gave him credit for
a great deal of simple honesty in other things. So one day, having caught
him in a ditch waiting for wild ducks, on my shooting-ground,. instead of
prosecuting, I took him into my service, where he ha-now remained for some
years ; and though he sometimes shows an inclination to return to his
former way of life, he lives tolerably steady, taking great delight, at
all idle times, in teaching my children to shoot fish or trap vermin—a
kind of learning which the boys, young as they are, have become great
proficients in, preferring Simon Donald to their Latin master ; and though
they attend regularly and diligently to the latter, they make equally good
use of the lessons of the former, and can dress a fly and catch a dish of
trout for dinner, gallop on their Shetland ponies across the wildest
country, or hit a mark with a rifle, as well as most boys of double their
age. And, after all, this kind of education does boys more good than harm
(as long as they do not neglect their books at the same time, which I do
not allow mine to do), as they acquire hardihood of constitution, free use
of their limbs, and confidence in their own powers. But I have said enough
of me and mine, and must refer those who may have any curiosity on the
subject to the following sketches, as illustrating my doings and
observations in my temporary home.
It may be proper to mention
that Chapters xxvi. and xxx. have already appeared in print; some learned
critic having deemed it expedient to publish them in the 153rd Number of
the "Quarterly Review." |
