156 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



in Inverness -shire. There is nothing very remarkable in taking 

 such a ticket any fool can do that but my point is that I 

 was able to travel to Mallaig by any ordinary train; with a ticket 

 available for sixteen days, for the modest return fare of 12s. 8d. ; 

 a matter of some 300 miles for the return journey ! 



In Scotland the desire of the rail and steamboat companies 

 seems to be to cater for their patrons in a more concerned way 

 than in England, for one can break the journey at almost any 

 place en route, and use even a back-dated ticket. That is, having 

 undertaken to take a passenger to and from a given place, the 

 Company loyally carry out their promise, without a host of idiotic 

 restrictions, which in England hamper the passenger, and entail 

 extra expense. 



As we were on a peninsula, where no railway has as yet pene- 

 trated, we took the good ship Lucy Ashton to the head of the 

 Gareloch, calling en route at the small hamlets of Rahane, Mambeg, 

 and Shandon. Of Garelochhead I have already WTitten. Suffice 

 it to say, that a pleasant wait of half an hour or so on the platform 

 at Garelochhead soon passed, and brought to us the West High- 

 land train from Glasgow. Our reserved compartment needed 

 no searching for, as the canny Scotch guard soon discovered the 

 party of four for whom it was intended, and we were invited to 

 take our seats. This day we were to travel to Fort William, 

 break our journey there, so as to get a peep at the highest mountain 

 in Britain Ben Nevis and then resume our travel the next 

 morning to Mallaig. 



To attempt a detailed description of the journey would be 

 risking the impossible, for no sooner had we passed the quiet 

 little station of Whistlefield, which is stuck up on the rocks 

 hard by Loch Goil and Loch Long, than we entered a country 

 of great magnificence. At the entrance to Loch Goil we recog- 

 nised the spot mentioned by Thomas Campbell in " Lord Ullin's 

 Daughter," but our attention was soon demanded by the beauti- 

 fully wooded banks on the railway side of Loch Long. How 

 this West Highland Railway was constructed is a mystery to me, 

 for, in certain places, the line runs at a tremendous altitude by 

 the side of the high mountains, with deep ravines, tree-laden 

 slopes, and lovely lochs right below. The line is a single one. 

 It curves and twists abruptly, snake-like, and one wonders what 

 would happen if something went wrong. The train gives per- 

 ceptibly first to one side and then the other, righting itself in a 

 marvellous wav. I am told there has never been an accident 



