1 88 1-82.] Edinburgh Naturalists Field Chib. 5 



effluvia that emanated from the carcasses of sheep that had fallen 

 from the ledges of the cliffs, and testified, by their shattered ap- 

 pearance, to the dreadful fall to which they had been subjected. 

 Near the summit we came upon a patch of Moss Campion [Silene 

 acauUs, L.), but only got a few specimens in flower ; and a little 

 higher up the Parsley Fern [Allosorus crispus, Bernh.) is met with in 

 great abundance — some of the plants growing up through the half- 

 melted snow. At last we reach the ledge, and find that the sides 

 of the Window are formed by the opposite cliffs of the upper part 

 of the chasm. The lintel is awanting, but the ledge is composed 

 of masses of rock that have here fallen in a kind of ridge across the 

 gully ; and behind this there is a deep basin, which is always filled 

 with snow. To cross its immaculate surface seemed rather hazard- 

 ous, as a descent into its depths would have cooled our ardour ; so 

 it did not astonish us that our companions were inclined to hold 

 back. But having had an opportunity of testing its bearing powers 

 the previous day, we were able to assure them there was no danger, 

 and at length the advance was begun. We at once discovered that 

 the snow was only soft on the top, while underneath was quite 

 hard ; and all fears were so soon forgotten that we indulged in the 

 delightful but unusual pastime of a snowball fight on the 30th July. 

 It was in Loch Cor Roy, which lies at the foot of a great cliff about 

 the third of a mile to the north-west of this, that we caught some 

 specimens of the Salmo alpinus, or Alpine Char, on a previous occa- 

 sion. This rare fish is found in very few other lochs in Britain, and 

 the specimens now in the British Museum are from Loch Cor Eoy. 



Having crossed the snow-basin, we continued a short distance 

 westwards, then turning abruptly to the left began to ascend the 

 shoulder of the mountain to the south-east, with the object of reach- 

 ing the top of the cliffs that rise out of the corrie in which lies Loch 

 Cor Arder. But when we approached the brink, intending to look 

 over, the abyss seemed so dreadful that we shrank back from the 

 attempt. We had been at this spot at various times, but had 

 never seen it so clearly in all its loneliness. The contrast only 

 served to impress upon us the impossibility of conveying an adequate 

 idea of the change that comes over the scene in time of storm, 

 when the mountain is wrapped in a thin mist that gathers more 

 densely in the hollows, and the white vapour that fills Cor Arder 

 is wrought into weird and fantastic forms by the wind, which 

 hisses like a myriad of vipers as it dashes over the cliff, causing 

 the mist to seethe as if it were the steam rising from a caldron ; 

 while from far down in the hidden depths of the corrie rise the 

 sounds of the dashing waters of miniature cascades, like the cry of 

 a multitude in distress, that conjure up within the mind a purga- 

 torial picture well worthy of a place in Dante's Inferno. 



It was now nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, and as we are to 



