NOTES ON IRISH NATURAL HISTORY. 73 



while the saucy coots, from beneath the canopy it affords 

 them, gaze fearlessly on the visitors who are continually pass- 

 ing by. One of the boatmen employed by Sir Walter Scott, 

 on the occasion of his visit to Killarney, told me that Sir Wal- 

 ter uttered scarcely a syllable in praise of the scenery, until 

 he came to this spot ; and here he stopped the rowers, and 

 exclaimed, " This is worth coming to see ! " The boatman 

 evidently thought very meanly of Sir Walter's opinion, whom 

 he considered in duty bound to be in raptures with the lakes 

 and mountains. I do not wonder at the great man's taste : 

 to me it was the most wonderfully beautiful spot I had ever 

 beheld, and this beauty is mainly owing to the immense size 

 and number of these pendant fronds. I now approached 

 Dinas Island, on which, I believe, stand some of the largest 

 arbutus trees in the world. The stem of one of them is seven 

 feet in circumference, and its height is equal to that of an ash 

 tree of the same girth which stands near it. There are seve- 

 ral others closely approaching this in size. The arbutus, in 

 a state of nature, possesses but a distant resemblance to the 

 trim, formal, bush-like figure which it assumes in cultivation. 

 The branches are very long, gnarled, crooked, and naked to 

 the extremity, where they are crowned with bright green 

 leaves. They seem particularly fond of the fissures of rock, 

 and, like the holly and yew, with which they are ever inter- 

 mixed, flourish most where there is least appearance of soil 

 to support them. 



In this river-scenery the silvery stem and feathery foliage 

 of the birch, and the picturesque figure of the oak and ash, 

 are not to be overlooked ; nor should the white water-lilies, 

 floating on the stream, nor the multitudes of mosses, nor the 

 rich bells of Erica cinerea, be passed by without a notice. — 

 Passing to the left of Dinas Island, the rowers pulled into 

 Turk Lake, a beautiful sheet of water occupying an area of 

 rather more than 1000 acres, with scarcely an island to inter- 

 rupt the uniformity of its surface. On the right, the woods 

 of Turk Mountain come down to the water's edge. This fine 

 lake is separated from Lough Lane by a narrow strip or neck 

 of land, and through this is a small opening, over which is 

 thrown a bridge, called " Brickeen Bridge." We passed un- 

 der the bridge into Lough Lane, and steering to the right, 

 the rowers rested on their oars in the cove of Glena. Here 

 is a cottage belonging to Lady Kenmare, and its tasty archi- 

 tecture, its beautiful flowers, its green lawns, its sweet ac- 

 companiments of wood, rock, and water, — render it a spot of 

 uncommon loveliness. From this little cove the boatmen 

 pulled across to Muckruss, passing O'Donohue's horse. This 



