TOUR TO NORTH-WEST HIGHLANDS. 131 



trees in abundance, and heads of hills besides, rather 

 grand-looking, but to my taste very unsocial and grim- 

 visaged. I fancy a green, southern, flowery knoll 

 before any of them. 



May. Tasteless impiety ! thou'rt a monster of pre- 

 judice, Doctor. 



Swivel. So be it ! But how shall we turn now ? the 

 river, you perceive, takes an angle, and should we 

 pursue it on towards the source, 'twill only bewilder 

 us the farther. 



May. Then, Doctor, I must drop. Should the inn 

 be not at hand, 'tis useless to goad me on, I am past 

 remedy, and can take my chance upon the wet heather 

 until sun-rise. 



Swivel. Out on thee ! thou art not so flagged, Bill ; 

 give me back my pannier. We must ford the stream ; 

 'tis impossible that the King's-house lies on this side 

 on't. There is neither road nor foot-path and road, 

 of a certainty, there ought to be, or Scotland is not 

 Scotland. 



May. I protest against such daring. The river is 

 swollen and rapid as a race-horse ; we shall be carried 

 off in a twinkling and never again heard of. Many of 

 the pools are whole fathoms deep. There's peril in't, 

 even in day -light but now 



Swivel. Be brave, Bill, be brave. I'll pick thee 

 a passage, man, will not over-whelm thee. Strangle 

 these Gorgons of thine, and follow me. See you, 

 the river is not greatly flooded, and this is no doubt 



