172 REMINISCENCES OP THE LEWS. 



when you may get at him. All my dogs would 

 point woodcocks, but I don't think I ever had 

 half-a-dozen good woodcock dogs in my life. 



It was thorough enjoyment to start of a fine 

 November or December morning (when you 

 got one), with a good brace of dogs as handy 

 as pickpockets, and yourself keener than mus- 

 tard, never knowing when your dog pointed 

 what might not rise, from a grouse to a white 

 owl. Now we were among the sea-beaten 

 clifis of Dalbeg, or in the Carloway glens, from 

 both of whose hill-tops your eye ran over the 

 island-dotted Loch Roag, and the great Atlantic 

 seemed breaking at your feet ; now wandering 

 in the steep corries of Loch Clay, Loch Valli- 

 mus, and Loch Brolum, or round Silver Hill, 

 looking over beautiful Loch Seaforth, on Skye 

 and Harris ; or stretching through the far TJig 

 Hills, or climbing the steep rocks under 

 Cleisham in Harris, or dropping down dark 

 Glen Scarladale, with the surrounding black 

 jagged hills round Glen Langan frowning on 

 you, and fair Loch Seaforth smiling a welcome 

 on you again, as you left your rugged hills to 

 nestle in her bosom. Oh, they were glorious 

 times ! and it is good, indeed, of Providence to 

 gladden the heart of man with such scenes as 

 the Hebrides afford. I am as keen of sport as 



