he scream of
the grey eagle, as dropping with the rapidity of light from his solitary
cliff, he shoots past, enraged that his retreat is polluted by the
presence of man, and then darts aloft into the loftiest chambers of
the sky; or, dallying with the piercing sunbeams, is lost amid their
glory.[H] At the eastern extremity of the loch, the superfluous waters
are discharged by a stream of no great size, but which, after heavy
showers, pours along its deep and turbid torrent with frightful
impetuosity.

[H] Round about the shores of Loch Skene the Ettrick Shepherd
herded the flocks of his master, and fed his boyish fancies with the
romance and beauty which breathes from every feature of the scene. One
day, when we were at Loch Skene on a fishing excursion with him, he
pointed up to the black crag overhanging the water, and said--"You see
the edge o' that cliff; I ance as near dropped frae it intil eternity as
I dinna care to think o'. I was herdin' aboot here, and lang and lang I
thocht o' speelin' up to the eyry, frae which I could hear the young
eagles screamin' as plain as my ain bonny Mary Gray (his youngest
daughter) when she's no pleased wi' the colley; but the fear o' the auld
anes aye keepit me frae the attempt. At last, ae day, when I was at the
head o' the cliff, and the auld eagle away frae the nest, I took heart
o' grace, and clambered down (for there was nae gettin' up). Weel, sir,
I was at the maist kittle bit o' the craig, wi' my foot on a bit ledge
just wide enough to bear me, and sair bothered wi' my plaid and stick,
when, guid saf's! I heard the boom o' the auld eagle's wings come whaff,
whaffing through the air, and in a moment o' time she brought me sic a
whang wi' her wing, as she rushed enraged by, and then turning short
again and fetching me anither, I thought I was gane for ever; but
providence gave me presence o' mind to regain my former resting-place,
and there flinging off my plaid, I keepit aye nobbing the bird wi' my
stick till I was out o' danger. It was a fearsome time!" It would have
been dreadful had the pleasure which "Kilmeny," "Queen Hynde," and the
hundred other beautiful creations which the glorious old bard has given
us, been all thus destroyed "at one fell swoop."

After running along the mountain for about half a mile, it suddenly
precipitates itself over the edge of a rocky ridge which traverses its
course, and, falling sheer down a height of three hundre