Gillon Cameron, Poacher

Gillon Cameron, PoacherFish were drying on the roofs all over Pitmungo and Gillon Cameron, looking down on the scene, thought that the whole town smelled of death and coal dust. To the north, he could see Loch Leven and beyond it the Leven hills, still green with patches of pine or brown with clusters of ash or oak, rising above the moorlands that were white under snow.There would be deer over there, Gillon knew, nesting in the dark, silent pines. They would be stripping the bark off the aspens...