he lake-side.
Kilchurn Castle was always interesting, though not so grand as seen from
the other side, with its own mountain cove and roaring stream. It
combined with the vale of Dalmally and the distant hills--a beautiful
scene, yet overspread with a gentle desolation. As we went further down
we lost sight of the vale of Dalmally. The castle, which we often
stopped to look back upon, was very beautiful seen in combination with
the opposite shore of the lake--perhaps a little bay, a tuft of trees, or
a slope of the hill. Travelled under the foot of the mountain Cruachan,
along an excellent road, having the lake close to us on our left, woods
overhead, and frequent torrents tumbling down the hills. The distant
views across the lake were not peculiarly interesting after we were out
of sight of Kilchurn Castle, the lake being wide, and the opposite shore
not rich, and those mountains which we could see were not high.

Came opposite to the village where we had dined the day before, and,
losing sight of the body of the lake, pursued the narrow channel or pass,
{142} which is, I believe, three miles long, out of which issues the
river that flows into Loch Etive. We were now enclosed between steep
hills, on the opposite side entirely bare, on our side bare or woody; the
branch of the lake generally filling the whole area of the vale. It was
a pleasing, solitary scene; the long reach of naked precipices on the
other side rose directly out of the water, exceedingly steep, not rugged
or rocky, but with scanty sheep pasturage and large beds of small stones,
purple, dove-coloured, or red, such as are called Screes in Cumberland
and Westmoreland. These beds, or rather streams of stones, appeared as
smooth as the turf itself, nay, I might say, as soft as the feathers of
birds, which they resembled in colour. There was no building on either
side of the water; in many parts only just room for the road, and on the
other shore no footing, as it might seem, for any creature larger than
the mountain sheep, and they, in treading amongst the shelving stones,
must often send them down into the lake below.

After we had wound for some time through the valley, having met neither
foot-traveller, horse, nor cart, we started at the sight of a single
vessel, just as it turned round the point of a hill, coming into the
reach of the valley where we were. She floated steadily through the
middle of the water, with one large sail spread out, f