EXTRACTS FROM DIARIES. 197 



the copse by the roadside. I stopped and listened, when suddenly 

 there burst from every side a roaring like that of a number of 

 bulls, only a much harsher, more quavering noise, more like a 

 howl. Now it sounded from the dark cover close at hand, 

 awakening all the echoes of the valley, and then was answered 

 from the shoulder of the mountain in a long bray, which rang 

 upon the clear, still night air, and died away in a lugubrious 

 groan. 



Doran and I quaked, expecting every moment to see a rabble 

 route of fire-fanged, brazen-lunged demons rush across our road, 

 which here, over-reached by boughs partially obstructing the 

 moonlight, seemed tesselated with iyory and ebony. 



The noise continued without intermission, and the trampling, 

 cracklings of twigs, and occasional coughings of some creatures 

 close at hand among the brake, seemed to be coining closer. 

 Just as I was about to invoke St Columba's aid, and to vow a 

 vast number of tapers to be burnt at his shrine, I recollected 

 that this part of Mull was very much frequented by the wild 

 red deer, and that this was the time of year that the stags begin 

 belling or braying, when the antlered chief of the herd, 



"... Through all his lusty veins, 

 The bull, deep-scorch'd, the raging passion feels. 

 He seeks the fight ; and, idly butting, feigns 

 His rival gored in every knotty trunk. 

 Him should he meet, the bellowing war begins." 



The very deep roar from the shoulder of the hill proclaimed 

 " a noble hart of grace " descending the brae-side to dispute the 

 chieftainship of the corrie with the stags of less degree. 



Before I got near to the entrance of the great glen on the 



o 



