Tuesday, October 6, 1857.

At twelve o’clock I drove off with the two girls to the “Irons,” where we mounted our ponies, and rode up (Brown and Robertson attending on foot) through the Corrie Buie, along the pretty new path through Feithluie to the foot of the very steep ascent to Feithort, where we got off and walked up—and suddenly, when nearly at the top of the path, came upon Albert’s little encampment, which was just at the edge of the winding path.

Albert was still absent, having gone out at six o’clock, but Lohlein and some of the gillies were there. The little house, with shelves for keeping a few boxes (no seat), and a little stove, was not at all uncomfortable; but the wind was dreadfully high, and blew in. We waited for about a quarter of an hour, and then Albert arrived; he had been out since six o’clock, shot three stags, but only got one bad one. The fine one, yesterday evening, had cost him much trouble. The night had been bitterly cold and windy; but he had slept. We lunched in the little “housie” at the open door. There was a second hut for the people. Luncheon over, we walked down and across the greater part of the Balloch Buie, mounting our ponies wherever it was wet. We saw deer as we came lower down, and all of a sudden a stag was seen quite close by the path; Albert shot him, and he fell at once. He had very fine horns, a royal on one side.

Then they beat up to the Craig Daign. Poor Albert was much tired, and had to walk all the time, as he had no pony; we rode part of the wray. Then the lower part of the road was driven. As we were sitting by a tree close to Albert a stag came out, and Albert killed him at one shot. A fine day, though at times it has been very cold. We got home at half-past six.