IN THE HIGHLANDS 201 



were to start carrying tlie corpse early the following 

 morning. There was no place where even a twentieth 

 part of this crowd could sleep, so they all sat up through 

 the whole of the night drinking themselves drunk, 

 as there was any amount of drink provided for them, 

 though probably but little food ! Early in the morning 

 a start was made by the rough track — the Diridh Mor — 

 which led to Dundonnell, some twenty-five miles away. 

 The crowd of semi-drunken men had marched several 

 miles of the way, when one of the mourners, who was 

 rather more sober than the rest, suddenly recollected 

 that they had no coffin with them, they having left it 

 behind them at Garve, and so back they all had to trudge 

 to fetch their beloved laird. 



Now for one of our jovial funerals. My uncle writes: 

 *' The wettest I ever remember was the Chisholm's, 

 the brother of our good old ' Aunty General." My 

 father went off early to reach Erchless Castle in time, 

 alone in our yellow coach, with Rory Ross driving and 

 Sandy Mathieson, our butler, on the box beside him. 

 About 8 p.m. of a fine summer evening we boys were 

 playing about the Conon front door when we heard the 

 carriage coming, but, to our great amazement, on the 

 box beside Rory sat our father, dressed in full mourning^ 

 though we had never heard of or seen him on the box 

 before ! The inside seemed packed full of people, whose 

 identity was soon revealed to us at the front door. 

 Out came Mathieson, and then, helped by my father, 

 two seemingly dead mortals were dragged out of the 

 carriage and laid down at the stair-foot, to be promptly 

 rolled up in coverlets and carried upstairs to the double- 



