350 A PLATFORM OF DEATH. CHAP. xxi. 



my two hours' walk to the neighbouring hill-top. After 

 a brief interval I cleared off the rubbish, and began to 

 turn up dead fish. They were all rotten. Many 

 thousands had died and been buried here a long time 

 ago. The mud had choked them, and buried up their 



DISTANT VIEW OF MORVEN AND MAIDEN PAP. 



bodies, fish over fish, in whole myriads. Thousands of 

 thousands must have died at the same time. ' This 

 platform of death,' as Hugh Miller phrases it, extends 

 for many miles. 



" Standing upright and looking round, I can see 

 "VVeydale some miles away; and there is reason to 

 believe that the beds of fish on this hill and Weydale 



