TUE FINDHORK HERONRY. 249 



opened up, we had glimpses of the ripened corn, the pleasant country-seats, 

 the forest of Darnaway, and the Moray Frith. Between the wood and the 

 road, there rose a heather-fringed bank, on the green slope and purple top 

 of which, the eye, tired with the dull monotony of a muddy road, rested 

 with pleasure. This bank was thickly studded with Fungi of all sizes, shapes, 

 and colours, from the large dark brown Fungus, that sat close by the road, 

 to the delicately white one, that had sheltered itself in some slight hollow. 

 The fir wood, usually sombre, seemed really to have a more cheerful look 

 when the bright blooming Heather, {Erica cinerea, and tetralix,) predominated; 

 but assumed a still grayer look when that national favourite gave place to 

 the equally common Ling, (Calluna vulgaris^ Again the Heather came in 

 as the Ling went out, carpetting the woods with its thick-clustered bells; 

 patches of bright yellow moss giving a pleasing variation to the whole. As 

 the trees began to separate and to thin, a miniature loch, dimly at first, 

 but soon quite distinctly, came in sight. It looked very pleasantly with its 

 calm, glassy surface, dotted in every direction by well-wooded islets, and 

 encircled by healthy trees. Leaving it behind, we passed to thinner woods, 

 and more irregular ground, on which Whins, {Ulex EuropoeuSj) and Brambles, 

 (Ilubus fruticosus,) seemed to luxuriate. 



Every now and then there fell a short, pattering shower; every now and 

 then the birds commenced a twitter, or attempted a warble; and every now 

 and then the Jackdaws chattered; — with these exceptions, Nature was very 

 unmusical this morning. By and by, the road and our feet brought us to 

 Altyre, the seat of Sir William Gumming, the father of the Nimrod of South 

 Africa. Glancing at the neat porter's lodge, and the flower garden attached 

 thereto, we entered the woods of Altyre. Instead of — or rather, besides — the 

 fir trees that had hitherto predominated, there were oak, beech, birch, elm, 

 and larch trees in abundance, and in full foliage. At the branching of the 

 roads, we took the one that led towards the P'indhorn, which resembled 

 more the well-kept avenue to a nobleman's residence, than a common high- 

 way; so smooth was the road, so neat the side paths, and so fine-looking 

 the stately trees. 



At last an old gate, spotted with lichens, yellow, white, and gray, made 

 its appearance; crossing it, we found ourselves traversing a grass-grown cart- 

 road, with a canopy of oak boughs overhead, and heath and ferns on each side. 

 The path soon took a sudden ^turn — so did we; and began to descend the 

 sloping way. A few windings and turnings past, we came to the Findhorn, 

 which, in serpentine contortions, flowed at the foot of the high bank oa 

 which we were. A little way down on the opposite side of the river, and 

 on a level plain, stood a company of trees, stretching up and down along 

 the river bank, la the midst of this group rose several gray, old trees, 

 conspicuous from their height; their bare, whitened boughs marked them out 

 still more distinctly from their neighbours; and it only required the croak of 

 the wary Heron, which issued from the midst of them, to settle the position 



