a sponge, so
that our boots ere long became thoroughly soaked. Several considerable
streams were rushing down the side, and many of the wild breed of black
Highland cattle were grazing around. After climbing up and down one or
two heights, occasionally startling the moorcock and ptarmigan from
their heathery coverts, we saw the valley of Loch Con; while in the
middle of the plain on the top of the mountain we had ascended, was a
sheet of water which we took to be Loch Ackill. Two or three wild fowl
swimming on its surface were the only living things in sight. The peaks
around shut it out from all view of the world; a single decayed tree
leaned over it from a mossy rock, which gave the whole scene an air of
the most desolate wildness. I forget the name of the lake; but we
learned afterwards that the Highlanders consider it the abode of the
fairies, or "men of peace," and that it is still superstitiously shunned
by them after nightfall.

From the next mountain we saw Loch Ackill and Loch Katrine below, but a
wet and weary descent had yet to be made. I was about throwing off my
knapsack on a rock, to take a sketch of Loch Katrine, which appeared
very beautiful from this point, when we discerned a cavalcade of ponies
winding along the path from Inversnaid, to the head of the lake, and
hastened down to take the boat when they should arrive. Our haste turned
out to be unnecessary, however, for they had to wait for their luggage,
which was long in coming. Two boatmen then offered to take us for two
shillings and sixpence each, with the privilege of stopping at Ellen's
Isle; the regular fare being two shillings. We got in, when, after
exchanging a few words in Gaelic, one of them called to the travellers,
of whom there were a number, to come and take passage at two
shillings--then at one and sixpence, and finally concluded by requesting
them all to step on board the shilling boat! At length, having secured
nine at this reduced price, we pushed off; one of the passengers took
the helm, and the boat glided merrily over the clear water.

It appears there is some opposition among the boatmen this summer, which
is all the better for travelers. They are a bold race, and still
preserve many of the characteristics of the clan from which they sprung.
One of ours, who had a chieftain-like look, was a MacGregor, related to
Rob Roy. The fourth descendant in a direct line, now inhabits the Rob
Roy mansion, at Glengyle, a valley at the head