822 WITH NATURE AND A CAMERA. 



thirst and fatigue. To our unutterable dismay, the 

 packer of our luncheon basket had forgotten to put 

 us up a drop of anything to drink. 



"What! naething to drink?" says Donald. 



"Not a drop," says I. 



Poor fellow ! it was only by a tremendous effort 

 he survived the calamity. 



" Is there any water on the island?" I inquired. 



" Oo ay, I ken a place where maybe there'll be 

 a wee drap, I'm thinking; but watter's watter, after 

 a', sir," he added sadly and significantly. 



We found the " drap " under a huge crag, warm, 

 brown in colour, and of peaty aroma. It had 

 plenty of birds' feathers in it, showing that it was a 

 place where they came to bathe; however, I tried 

 it. The endeavour was vain; it simply would not 

 go down. My brother declined altogether to try it, 

 but not so Donald; he went down on his knees, 

 and for a while there was a sound as of many 

 waters rushing through a confined space. When 

 he arose, he wiped his mouth with the back of his 

 great brown hand, and, looking at us with con- 

 siderable disdain, remarked " Ah weel, I say the 

 mon who canna drink that is no dry." 



Late one evening in June, 1895, we found 

 ourselves at Girvan, on the Ayrshire coast, and 

 directly opposite Ailsa Craig, to which we were 

 anxious to pay a flying visit, and get away South 

 by a train leaving Girvan about twelve o'clock the 

 following day. We discovered that the " awesome 

 rock " was rented by two brothers, curiously enough 

 named Girvan, one of whom lived on it, and the 

 other in the town ; the former showing visitors over 

 the rock, and the latter conveying them forth and 

 back in a small steamboat. I hunted this worthy 

 man out, and told him that we wanted to run over 



