STORM IN THE MOUNTAINS. 163 



solemn mass ; for a while it seemed to rest behind the 

 heights of Cairn-inarnoc, whilst the sun cast a last grim 

 smile on its heathery braes. 



" I am thinking we shall have a blad of weet." 



" I have a slight suspicion of that myself, Maclaren, so 

 we may as well go to Cairn Derig Beg, where the hill is 

 steep, and we shall be more in the beild." 



The rising wind came rustling on with a mournful 

 sound ; then, as it swelled into a raging blast, down at 

 once fell the drenching torrent ; and the big drops lashing 

 along the moor, gave back a spray like the dashing of a 

 waterfall : louder and louder the thunder echoed from hill 

 to hill, till it died far away on the rugged peak of Sche- 

 halien. 



" I ken this Beg is no fit place for Christian men in the 

 fire-flaught. The day is mischancy, and sure as deith 

 something will happen, for I heard the lament sung yester- 

 day in the gloaming, and well I ken it came from no living 

 mouth." 



" Did you see your taishe, Peter ? " 



" I munna tell what I saw ; but it was that I wudna 

 like to see again ; and sin' I hae trod the hills, I never saw 

 sic fire as this." 



The storm was indeed awful. Tortoise was sitting 

 under the hill, Peter Fraser was on his left, Maclaren 

 and Jamieson were close to his right and front, and Sandy 

 Macintosh was with the hounds at a little distance. 



The thunder clouds were now vertical; no interval 

 between the fire and the crash, but both instantaneous, like 

 the volleying of heavy ordnance : another vivid flash, 

 and a loud, piercing, and protracted shriek was heard from 



