CHAPTEE LVII. 



Caught in a Squall on Loch Leven Potatoes and Herrings : How to cook them A day in 

 Glen Nevis A visit to Uaimh Skomhairle, or Samuel's Cave The Cave-Men. 



THE reader may remember that we concluded our last with a 

 hopeful and jubilant note, believing that really fine weather 

 a long track of it, perhaps was just at hand. We much regret 

 having to say that our meteorological vaticinations proved utterly 

 incorrect. It still rains [July 1877], not constantly, indeed, but 

 with sufficient persistence to make everybody miserable, and to 

 reduce our hopes of a good harvest almost to zero. Yesterday, for 

 example, we had occasion to cross the Loch in our boat. It was a 

 nice bright day enough at starting, with a fresh breeze from N.W., 

 which carried us along at racing pace. All of a sudden the heavens 

 became black and threatening ; a terrible squall almost capsized us 

 ere we had time to sing out to our companion to let go " everything 

 by the run." He did, fortunately, let go just in time, and grasping 

 an oar ourselves, and calling on him to take another, we had her 

 head turned to the wind and waves as quietly but as quickly as 

 possible. Thus we held her, just like a horse by the reins, while 

 the squall lasted, and cunningly took advantage of its drift to get 

 to the Appin shore. We managed to reach it, but in very sorry 

 plight, as you shall hear. With the squall had come rain, literally 

 the heaviest we ever saw, which drenched us to the skin ; every 

 drop big enough to fill as it fell the largest of thimbles, and 

 driven by the squall, remember, it fell with the force of a spent 

 bullet. As " drookit " and drenched we landed, and crawled with 

 all the miserable, and woebegone, and shambling gait of the really 



