-3 7- WALK UP LOCH KATRINE. 39 



pace, keeping almost up to them, till I came to the last 

 two miles, where I lost my way and wandered in a wood. 

 Skirting the waters, having no notion at the time that I was 

 wrong, I pushed on, though I saw no road, and after a very 

 perplexing, weary journey, now clambering over rocks, now 

 climbing over walls, now creeping through rough hedges 

 and palings, often uncertain which was the right path, but, 

 contriving to fall in with the footpath, without very much 

 difficulty, I at last threaded my way, wearied out and 

 exhausted, to the ferryman's house, for the road runs 

 along the east side of the loch, and you must cross to gain 

 Lochlomond. Here I earnestly craved a draught of butter- 

 milk, but the woman had none. She at once, however, sent 

 out her pretty little girl to get water at my request, but 

 meanwhile milked her cows, and brought me a bowl half 

 full of milk and warm water, which I most greedily drank, 

 and was thereby greatly refreshed ; in truth, it was no doubt 

 the best thing I could have taken ; and when, in answer to 

 some inquisitive questions of her fine manly husband, I 

 said I was a surgeon, she so simply said, 'And to think 

 that I should be giving you advice ! ' I assured her I knew 

 them as being very skilly folks, and that I was half a High- 

 lander myself, and I at once craved her husband to sing me 

 a Gaelic song. While crossing, he told me he * couldna 

 sing,' unless he ' had a glass o' whiskey j ' but as I had 

 every reason to believe there was none in the loch, my 

 only accessible place for liquors, I had no means of making 

 him musical ; and so, with stories about Rob Roy, and 

 jokes, and the like, we sat and talked while he rowed me 

 across. I had still five miles to walk, which was no cheer- 

 ing prospect to me, who had already walked twenty-three j 

 and in spite of my invigorating drink of warm milk, I 

 crept very laggingly on. The road was a dull, sterile, 



