78 WALK TO DORERY. CHAP. vn. 



After leaving the shore I had six miles to walk. I 

 reached home at eight in the evening with my plant, 

 having walked eighteen miles in four hours and forty 

 minutes." 



On another afternoon in July he goes to the Dorery 

 hills. "I had a ramble," he said, "on Saturday last, 

 after my day's work was over. While on my way I found 

 in a quarry, at a loch, a fossil fish snout or two, and 

 some plants. I got to the hills, about ten miles off, 

 and examined ferns and roses. I had a grand view 

 of the Sutherland hills. I stood in a sheltered nook, 

 and gazed at the sunlight shining far over the distant 

 mountains. I never forget any of these moments. I 

 turned aside this morning just to gaze upon the moon. 

 It was about two o'clock in the morning. All was 

 still, solemn, and impressive." 



The road to the Dorery hills lies through a bare 

 and slightly undulating country. The fields are sepa- 

 rated from the road by fences of Caithness flag. On 

 either side you observe here and there mounds of green 

 earth, underneath which are said to be the so-called 

 Picts' Houses. After the cultivated fields, come the moors 

 quiet, solitary, and sublime. 



After the moors you reach the heathery hills. The 

 highest of the hills is called Ben Dorery. There is a 

 cleft between the two principal hills, and at the farther 

 side of the main hill is a hollow, surrounded by projec- 

 tions of slaty rock, in which Dick would sit down, and 

 look with delight on the prospect before him. In the far- 

 reaching plain below there was nothing but heather 



