The Land of the Hills and the Glens 



islanders the showing of this far-distant beacon is a sure 

 portent of coming storm. 



But however hard it may blow from the east of south, 

 the gale is rarely of long duration, and perhaps even before 

 daybreak a full westerly gale is tearing in from the sea. 

 And for days the storm may continue from this quarter, 

 so that the full force of the Atlantic hurls itself against the 

 lighthouse, and from the low sunken rocks to the west- 

 ward known to seamen as the Cairns of Coll vast 

 columns of smoke-like spray are seen to rise, and even the 

 biggest ships lurch past like drunken things. 



Such is the restless spirit of the wild Hebridean Ocean, 

 and it is, I think, in winter that one feels the charm of 

 the sea at its height, and that, penetrating to the more 

 inland districts and passing that season surrounded by even 

 the wildest and most beautiful hills and glens, one realizes 

 with curious strength how something is lacking here, and 

 can understand how those bred within the sound of the 

 Atlantic surge feel the impelling force of the mystic power 

 of the ocean, and so often return to their sea-girt cliffs and 

 islands in the autumn of their lives. 



