Day 51: The penultimate leaf had fallen from the calendar, and I had gone north on a mission of some importance. As I was returning and solely upon a whim, I thought to make a survey of the old hunting grounds to see if by chance the haggis were running. Navigating there from an unfamiliar direction, I felt that I might have lost my way through the tangle of by-ways but kept on in my course as dictated by instinct. My sense of the place proved equal to the task, and soon I found myself at the lair of the beasts. I took myself with stealth into its heart and when I was deeply entrenched within, I gave forth the cry, "Haggis! Two p'und! Haggis! Haggis!" whereupon to my surprise and delight, a female of the species crept out from her cubby. I leapt upon her and bare-handed, wrestled her into my game bag and cinched it tight lest she gnaw herself to freedom before she could be properly caged. Upon arrival home, I placed her immediately in impound, there to be fattened for butchering, destined for the Hogmanay meal. Now for the neeps and tatties, an easy task for they are common and require no great skill to snare.
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