SHADOW FOLK OF HEATHER HAUNTS. 



And the elves never returned ; for, continues the poet : 



E'er since, in Ettrick's glens so green, 



Spirits, though there, are seldom seen ; 



And fears of elf and fairy raid, 



Have like a morning dream decayed. 



The barefoot maid of rosy hue, 



Dares from the heath flower brush the dew, 



To meet her lover in moonlight still, 



By flowery den, or tinkling rill ; 



And well dares she till midnight stay 



Among the coils of fragrant hay. 



The favorite food of the fairies was said to be 

 Scotch scones and Heather honey and a bowl of cream 

 a dainty morsel, forsooth! 



Ossian tells us that "It was the opinion of the 

 times that the souls of heroes went immediately after 

 death to the hills of their country, and the scenes they 

 frequented the most happy time of their life. It was 

 thought, too, that dogs and horses saw the ghosts of 

 the deceased." 



"My ghost o'Connall is on my native hills, but my 

 corse is on the sands of Ullin. Thou shalt never talk 

 with Crugal, or find his lone steps in the heath." 



This reference to tracing footsteps on the Heath 

 may be explained by the following statement by Burt. 

 He says : "By the way the Heath, or Heather, if 

 pressed by the foot, retains the impresssion, or, at least, 

 some of it, for a long while before the Heather rises 

 again effectually. A single Highlander has been found 

 by the track of his foot when he took to hills out of the 

 common way for his greater safety in his flight." 

 172 



