But on this expedition, undertaken by our hero and his friends, the minister’s retriever, Carlo, made one of the party.
It may be thought wonderful that a mere child like Maggie May should be permitted to join a venture like this across the bleak and frozen hills. Sandie had suggested her staying at home.
“She’s a true Mackenzie,” said the minister. “A Mackenzie is nothing at all if not hardy. Believe me, Maggie will keep up with the best of us.”
Stuart, who had no gun, carried the luncheon and looked after the dog.
The trap was left at a little croft not far from a high steep hill, and then the party proceeded on foot.
There was broom to struggle through at first, then heather to wade among, so high that it nearly buried Maggie May. Sandie stuck by her side, helping her in every difficulty.
But as they reached higher ground, the heather grew shorter, and ere long entirely disappeared; then, to their great joy, they came upon the footprints of apparently several hares.
Cautiously they followed them up for some distance. Suddenly Willie brought his gun to the shoulder.
Bang! Carlo bounded forwards and returned next minute with a splendid specimen of the mountain hare.
“Good, Willie, good!” cried Sandie, grasping him by the hand. “But wasn’t it a——”