e,
from the mountain's brow rushes a foaming stream; there, a clump of
trees dressed in the most luxuriant green; here, mountains towering
bleak and wild; there, a few spots of verdure growing amid the rocks;
behind, the swift, pellucid Almond water; before, hills stretching on
and on till they are lost in the azure sky.

The banks of the Almond along the vale are associated with much
romance. Some time in the last century there lived at Corrivarlich a
noted sheep-stealer named Alastair Bane. Little is known of his
boyhood. He was supposed to have been brought to the district by
Highlanders who were in the habit of bringing to Crieff cartloads of
split pine from Rannoch Forest, which they sold to riddle-makers to
make riddle rims. During one of those visits the child is supposed to
have been left. He was called Alastair, owing to his supposed Highland
descent, and Bane, because of his white hair. As he grew up to manhood
he showed symptoms of a wandering disposition, and went frequently to
Amulree and Falkirk, acting in the capacity of a drover. While
pursuing this occupation he became acquainted with many of the
ferocious caterans who were at that time following the same calling.
How long Alastair continued a drover is not chronicled in oral
tradition. After a time he associated himself with a band of
bare-legged mountaineers, sixty in number, who located themselves under
his leadership in a cave in the glen, to the great terror and annoyance
of the district. It is said that the last combined effort of the band
at cattle-lifting was at a farm situated in the moor between
Fowlis-Wester and Buchanty. On this occasion dissension broke out
amongst the thieves, which ultimately ended in the breaking up of the
band. That Alastair Bane had his dwelling-place among the rocks in
Wester Glenalmond was well known, but every effort to discover its
whereabouts was in vain, until one night a shepherd, wandering on the
hills, chanced to see a light shining through a crevice in the rocks.
Creeping cautiously forward and peering through the opening, he
observed the formidable thief sitting on the floor, amusing himself
with an old fiddle and singing--

"Many a cow has lost her calf, many a sheep her lamb,
But I'll sit on a stane, and sing at my den--
The thief of Glenalmond will never be ta'en."

He was taken, however, and paid the full penalty of the law at
Perth--hanging for sheep-stealing being in practice at th