124 AN ACCOUNT OP A DAv's EXCURSION TO BUTE. 



whistling of its wings overhead as we picked up the shot specimens. They 

 proved to be the White-fronted, or Broad-billed Scaup, {F. marila,) male and 

 female in immature plumage; and the other bird which displayed such faith- 

 fulness to its unfortunate fellow-travellers, appeared to be of the same species. 

 After a little while it returned, and, on alighting, resumed its sorrowful 

 mutterings; but, although several stones were thrown at it, we could not 

 compel it to leave the place. 



(To be continued.) 



AN ACCOUNT OP A DAY'S EXCURSION TO BUTE. 



BY JAMES P. FRASER, ESQ. 



The dreary season of winter has taken its departure at last, and spring, 

 with all its beauty and freshness, has burst upon us; gradually have the trees 

 been unfolding their beauty, and the sun revealing himself in his power. 



We have completed our first trip this year to the Frith of Clyde — that 

 huge inland lake — that mighty estuary, subdividing itself into numerous smaller 

 ones, which lies between the lobster-like claws of the Mull of Cantyre and the 

 Ayrshire coast. Girdled in by giant mountains, its very storms impress us 

 with a feeling of security. It extends its glassy surface amid these watchful 

 guardians, a wayward and happy thing, never for a moment the same. 



Having entered the boat, we felt somewhat tired and languid, but the 

 morning air refreshed us, and the sea-breeze increased our appetite, so that 

 we began to long for the breakfast-hour: it did at length amve, and after 

 effecting a compromise with, and satisfying the demands of, the inner man, 

 we felt ourselves vastly comfortable, and again ready for deck. 



Once more above. The coldness of the morning air is yielding to the 

 genial heat of the growing sunshine, yet the morning seems scarcely awake. 

 Nature has a thousand moods — a thousand varying aspects; and in each of 

 these there is something on which the eye may rest itself with delight, and which 

 the mind may contemplate with profit. 



We find we have travelled some distance since we last left the deck; we 

 have passed Gourock upon our larboard, and are now dashing over and onward 

 to Dunoon. Upon our right the mountains of the Holy Loch are towering 

 in all their grandeur. This lovely little Loch is but a portion of Clyde 

 sideling inland, as if delighting to linger in the bosom of these lofty moimtains. 



Dunoon lies right before us; it is the nucleus of a long tail of beautiful 

 cottages, which extends to the mouth of the Holy Loch. It is adorned 

 with a number of dark trees, chiefly firs; but the mountain behind is sterile 

 to the top. The whole district, for some miles, consists of the mica slate 

 and clay slate system, which stretches across the breadth of Scotland, from 

 Kincardineshire on the east, to Argyleshire, Bute, and Arran, on the west. The 



