HIGHLAND MEMORIES 163 



years, I can testify that our journey across the Nevis Burn was 

 a rather wet one ! 



We trudged homewards, tired and very wet, receiving, as we 

 plodded on, one of Mrs Caudle's curtain lectures on the fallacies 

 of our performance in mid-stream ! Hearty laughter followed, 

 until we drew near to the comfortable precincts of our hotel, 

 where we rested for the night, until the resumption of our journey 

 to Mallaig in the morning. 



The station at Fort William is just about as close to the water 

 as it is possible to get it. Indeed, it is no exaggeration when I 

 state that one could fish in comfort from the railway carriage 

 window ! Although the drought was so severe, I noticed, with 

 interest, that, right at the side of bonnie Loch Eil, the water 

 was several feet deep, and the steamers draw up at a pier quite 

 close to the station entrance. 



We were somewhat delayed on the morning of our departure, 

 by the late arrival of the all-night train from Kings Cross. When 

 the train did come along, it looked a sorry night-reveller, dust- 

 laden and dirty. Everyone who came off it appeared to be very 

 tired, and the ruffled pillows in the now empty compartments 

 testified to the comfort they had afforded those who used them 

 during the silent watches of the night. The various porters 

 from the Fort William hotels, including one from our own West 

 End, meet the trains, and they looked trim and neat in their 

 braided regalia as they stood together in a little group, discussing 

 the pros and cons of the situation. 



It was a glorious morning when we left Fort William for 

 Mallaig, on that eventful day in August. There was just an 

 Autumn chill in the air, which invigorated and energised a 

 southerner such as myself, though the clouds were very low, and 

 were fondly embracing the Argyllshire mountains just across 

 the Loch. 



At last we were off, and, if the truth must be told, it was a 

 rather dirty compartment in which we found ourselves, and very 

 different to the West Highland train we had travelled in the 

 previous day. Still, one ought not to complain, for were we not 

 travelling along one of the most wonderful lines of rail in Britain ? 

 The line hugs the shore of Loch Eil for some considerable distance. 

 Fort William is a cul-de-sac station, and, to get out of it, one has, 

 perforce, to go into it first. When coming out, it is not long 

 before one reaches Banavie, from whence one takes the boat up 

 the Caledonian Canal to Inverness. A remarkable series of 



