the mountain
solitudes, the haunt of the deer, which Scott had described in his
poems. A favorite resort was the valley of Glencoe, a singularly wild
and romantic spot where a long narrow ravine is shut in between almost
perpendicular hills.

The painter first made the acquaintance of the deer after the ordinary
manner of the sportsman. For sport in itself, however, he cared little
or nothing; the great attraction of hunting was the chance to study
the action of animals. His friends laughed at him for a poor shot,
but his true weapon was the pencil, not the gun. One day, while
deerstalking, just as a magnificent shot came his way, the gillies
were astonished to have the painter thrust the gun into their hands,
and hastily take out his sketch-book. It was the life and not the
death of the animal in which he was chiefly interested.

The Monarch of the Glen seems to be a picture caught in just this way.
The very life and character of the animal are transferred to the
canvas as by a snap shot of the camera. The stag has heard some
strange sound or scented some new danger, and, mounting a hill, looks
abroad to see if all is well. The responsibility of the herd is his,
and he has a tender care for the doe and the young deer. He must
always be on the alert.

His attitude reminds one of Scott's "antlered monarch" in "The Lady of
the Lake," which

"Like crested leader proud and high
Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky;
A moment gazed adown the dale,
A moment snuffed the tainted gale."

It is with a proud sense of ownership that the monarch surveys his
domain. With head erect he seems to defy the whole world of sportsmen.
Behind him are piled the massive crags of the mountain peaks, with the
mist rising from the valley below. This fog, so dangerous to the
traveller, is a blessing to the deer, tempering the heat of the summer
sun and hiding him from his enemy, man. It appealed to Landseer on
account of its weird sublimity, and he liked to get the effect of
it in his landscapes, especially when illumined by a burst of
sunlight.

[Illustration: From an Engraving by Thomas Landseer, John Andrew &
Son, Sc.
THE MONARCH OF THE GLEN]

The Monarch of the Glen is a splendid specimen of his kind. The
spreading horns above his head are like the boughs of an oak tree. We
know from the number of branches that he is seven years old. The horns
are developed at the end of the first year, and every year thereaft