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A Song Between the Hunter and the Deer
by Big Young Donald, "a gentleman of the Camerons who were in Lochaber"
circa 17th century

Hunter: Sitting in this clump of rowans
I don't lie this wind
Which blows in my face
And nips my cheeks.

A stag lies up there
Looking at me reproachfully
And I can't move a step from here
Because of his disapproving eyes.

If only I could crawl
My gun and I
To that hollow rowan tree
I could shoot you.

Deer: It would be much better if you sowed and harrowed,
Tended your cattle and fed them,
Rather than take a steak of my old venison
Which is not worth putting in a pot

My skin is no good
Because of the warble holes;
It's a shame that you should stalk me
For I've done you no harm.

Hunter: Don't you remember the sorrel
Which you ate in the corn?
I'll set my dog on you
And you'll be killed on the spot.
Deer: If you'd only listen
I'd prove that it wasn't me
Who ate your corn
It was a much better stag.
Hunter: If you could tell me
Where I can find him
It would be a warning to others
Though I may still shoot you.
Deer: In the summer he's in Corraig Rock
On guard in Corry Maltaig;
But I don't suppose he'll come here
With the dogs so near.
Hunter: I would be very happy
If my rifle and I
Were out together
Searching the hills.