Red Deer

My Saturdays have become almost ritualistic and as I waited for the arrival of my two regular hiking companions Alec and Rusty, an inspection of the camera equipment was carried out. On this particular day we were joined by their old school friend Alastair McIntosh who after hearing about our regular expeditions was keen to join us for this trip to South Lochs. After the usual introductions, I ensured that my packed lunch was in the rucksack and more importantly the liquid refreshment that would accompany it, before we boarded Alec’s car.

It did not take long to reach our destination, and as we travelled along the single-track road beside Loch Seaforth, a commotion on the far shore caused Alec to brake suddenly and point to as yet an unidentified figure flying steadily over the hillside. This emergency stop had caught Rusty and I off guard in the back seat and it took a few moments before I could untangle the binoculars from him and view this bird more closely. Even with the naked eye the sheer size alone told me it was an eagle and with the help of my friend’s superb optics this was soon confirmed. A small bird was mobbing the eagle, making it swerve slightly as it dive-bombed from above. This was a merlin our smallest falcon and its screeching and continual harassment suggested that perhaps the eagle had wandered too close to its nest or chicks. The eagle seemed to prefer to fly short distances before landing then taking flight again after short periods of rest. This is common behaviour for young birds after leaving the nest as they try to develop their wing muscles but before I was able to confirm this both eagle and merlin disappeared out of sight.

The parked car soon became a spot in the distance as we climbed Sithean An Airgead (The Money Hill), where Alastair who has a great interest in local folklore hoped to leave an offering of silver for the fairies at the summit. My own reasons for climbing this titanic hill was to photograph any wildlife I could get close to and when Alastair, produced a penny whistle, sat crossed legged and began to play, I realised my chances of this were now slim. There was only one thing for it and I made some excuse before leaving the other three and headed off on my own.

After about half an hour walking into the wind and with my noisy companions far in the distance, a lone sheep moved to graze on the steep slope at my side. Lying in the grass close to where the sheep stood was a small herd of around a dozen red deer and although they were still unaware of my presence I instinctively dropped to the ground. My rucksack was quickly discarded before backtracking a short distance and sliding slowly down the hillside out of sight. I was now directly downwind from the herd and although I had a large telephoto lens attached to the camera I would still have to get closer to get any decent pictures. After what seemed like an hour of crawling I steadied the lens on a grass tussock and viewed the stags that were by now on their feet and starting to graze.

Majestic is a word that has been used often to describe the golden eagle but it is also the first word that comes to mind when confronted with a red deer stag on the hillside. I finished a spool of film before the remainder of the group appeared on the skyline and the deer departed.

That night in the company of my musician friends I reflected on the past days events spent in the presence of Alec, Rusty and Alastair and my close encounter with the red deer stags. Another dram was placed on the table as I lifted the fiddle and played an Irish hornpipe: The King of the Fairies.

I’m sure Alastair would have approved.