of the lake. A small
steamboat was put upon Loch Katrine a short time ago, but the boatmen,
jealous of this new invasion of their privilege, one night towed her out
to the middle of the lake and there sunk her.

Near the point of Brianchoil is a very small island with a few trees
upon it, of which the boatman related a story that was new to me. He
said an eccentric individual, many years ago, built his house upon
it--but it was soon beaten down by the winds and waves. Having built it
up with like fortune several times, he at last desisted, saying, "bought
wisdom was the best;" since when it has been called the Island of
Wisdom. On the shore below, the boatman showed us his cottage. The whole
family were out at the door to witness our progress; he hoisted a flag,
and when we came opposite, they exchanged shouts in Gaelic. As our men
resumed their oars again, we assisted in giving three cheers, which made
the echoes of Benvenue ring again. Some one observed his dog, looking
after us from a projecting rock, when he called out to him, "go home,
you brute!" We asked him why he did not speak Gaelic also to his dog.

"Very few dogs, indeed," said he, "understand Gaelic, but they all
understand English. And we therefore all use English when speaking to
our dogs; indeed, I know some persons, who know nothing of English, that
speak it to their dogs!"

They then sang, in a rude manner, a Gaelic song. The only word I could
distinguish was Inch Caillach, the burying place of Clan Alpine. They
told us it was the answer of a Highland girl to a foreign lord, who
wished to make her his bride. Perhaps, like the American Indian, she
would not leave the graves of her fathers. As we drew near the eastern
end of the lake, the scenery became far more beautiful. The Trosachs
opened before us. Ben Ledi looked down over the "forehead bare" of Ben
An, and, as we turned a rocky point, Ellen's Isle rose up in front. It
is a beautiful little turquoise in the silver setting of Loch Katrine.
The northern side alone is accessible, all the others being rocky and
perpendicular, and thickly grown with trees. We rounded the island to
the little bay, bordered by the silver strand, above which is the rock
from which Fitz-James wound his horn, and shot under an ancient oak
which flung its long grey arms over the water; we here found a flight of
rocky steps, leading to the top, where stood the bower erected by Lady
Willoughby D'Eresby, to correspond with Sc