CHAPTER XII 



AN LOCHAN UAINE 



Buried in the very heart of the high hills, so that no eye 

 can see it from a distance, is the loch known in the language 

 of the mountains as An Lochan Uaine — the Green Loch. 

 The lochan has many brothers and sisters of the same 

 name; but in its own case the designation would appear 

 to be misapplied. Lying in a crater-shaped corrie 

 facing full to the bitter north winds, the lochan is of so 

 great a depth that the bottom cannot be made out, even 

 on a day of strongest sunshine, and thus it would seem that 

 the water should be known as An Dubh Lochan — the Black 

 Loch. 



Winter comes early to the lochan. In the low country 

 the air is yet soft and mild when the first thin sheet of 

 black ice makes its way slowly, quietly out into the dark 

 waters. Many enemies are against it — this young ice. 

 The springs which feed the loch still retain their summer 

 heat, and fierce gusts of wind time and again restore the 

 lochan its freedom. But sooner or later the waters are 

 imprisoned, and the lochan sleeps under ice and, perhaps, 

 heavy wreaths of snow^, till the coming of another spring. 

 Even the heart of the deep corrie which cherishes the lochan 

 is over three thousand feet above the level of the distant sea, 

 and at the head of the neighbouring Garbhchoire Mhor ("The 

 Great Rough Corrie ") is the home of snowfields which 

 remain always unbroken from one year's end to another. 



The eagle often sails above the lochan. On warm, 

 sunny days he perches for hours on end on the hill- 

 top above, enjoying to the full the light and warmth. 

 In winter his form is dark against the snowy wastes, and 



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