ding one of the mountain-passes which lead from Macroom
to Glengariff, and which were only known to those well acquainted with
the place. He led his horse by the bridle, for the ground did not admit
of riding; but were it otherwise, the beast showed too many signs of a
hard journey not to make the course advisable, and in this respect both
horse and rider well agreed. The man, though young and athletic, was
emaciated and weary-looking. His clothes, once good, seemed neglected;
and his beard, unshaven and uncared for, gave an air of savage
ferocity to a face pale and care-worn, while his horse, with as many
evidences of better days, exhibited unquestionable signs of fatigue
and bad-feeding. The path by which he descended was the cleft worn by a
mountain-torrent, a rough and rugged road, with many spots of difficulty
and danger, but neither these nor the scene which unfolded itself in the
glen beneath, attracted any share of his attention; and yet few scenes
were fairer to look upon. The sun was just setting, and its last glories
were lighting up the purple tints upon the mountains, and shedding a
flood of golden hue over lake and river. The bright yellow of the furze,
and the gay colours of the foxglove contrasted with the stern grandeur
of the dark rocks, while in the abundance of wild holly and arbutus
which grew from even the most precipitous places, the scene had a
character of seeming cultivation to an eye unpractised to the foliage of
this lovely valley. The traveller, who, for above an hour, had pursued
his way, treading with the skill of a mountaineer over places where
a false step might have perilled life, and guiding his horse with a
caution that seemed an instinct, so little of his attention did it
exact, at last halted, and, leaning his arm over his saddle, stood for
some time in contemplation of the picture. From the spot on which he
stood, one solitary cabin was discernible on the side of the road that
wound through the valley, and from whose chimney a thin blue smoke
slowly curled, and floated along the mountain side. On this little
habitation the traveller's eyes were fixedly bent, until their gaze was
dimmed by a passing emotion. He drew his hand roughly over his face, as
if angry at his own weakness, and was about to proceed on his way, when
a shrill whistle from a cliff above his head arrested his step. It was
a mountain recognition he well knew, and was about to reply to, when
suddenly, with a bounding