mist. Now I knew it was
two o'clock, and that, having weathered out so much of the night, I
might the rest; and the hours hardly seemed long to me more.

It may give an idea of the extent of the mountain, that, though I
called, every now and then, with all my force, in case by chance some
aid might be near, and though no less than twenty men, with their
dogs, were looking for me, I never heard a sound, except the rush of
the waterfall and the sighing of the night wind, and once or twice
the startling of the grouse in the heather. It was sublime indeed,--a
never-to-be-forgotten presentation of stern, serene realities. At last
came the signs of day,--the gradual clearing and breaking up; some
faint sounds from I know not what; the little flies, too, arose from
their bed amid the purple heather, and bit me. Truly they were very
welcome to do so. But what was my disappointment to find the mist so
thick, that I could see neither lake nor inn, nor anything to guide
me. I had to go by guess, and, as it happened, my Yankee method served
me well. I ascended the hill, crossed the torrent, in the waterfall,
first drinking some of the water, which was as good at that time as
ambrosia. I crossed in that place, because the waterfall made steps,
as it were, to the next hill. To be sure, they were covered with
water, but I was already entirely wet with the mist, so that it
did not matter. I kept on scrambling, as it happened, in the right
direction, till, about seven, some of the shepherds found me. The
moment they came, all my feverish strength departed, and they carried
me home, where my arrival relieved my friends of distress far greater
than I had undergone; for I had my grand solitude, my Ossianic
visions, and the pleasure of sustaining myself; while they had only
doubt, amounting to anguish, and a fruitless search through the night.

Entirely contrary to my forebodings, I only suffered for this a few
days, and was able to take a parting look at my prison, as I went
down the lake, with feelings of complacency. It was a majestic-looking
hill, that Tongue, with the deep ravines on either side, and the
richest robe of heather I have anywhere seen.

Mr. S. gave all the men who were looking for me a dinner in the
barn, and he and Mrs. S. ministered to them; and they talked of
Burns,--really the national writer, and known by them, apparently,
as none other is,--and of hair-breadth 'scapes by flood and fell.
Afterwards they were all