HEN HARRIER. 53 



the summit, and were sufficiently common to attract the hawks. 

 Looking down from this elevation, one evening in September, 

 about sunset, I could not help feeling amazed at the scene pic- 

 tured below. There lay the whole of the fragments forming 

 North Uist, scattered like a thousand islets thrown at random into 

 a lake. It was indeed impossible to say whether the land or the 

 water predominated. Near at hand great masses of granite shone 

 through the heath-clad ground, and in the distance the glimmering 

 specks on the dark-brown tracts drew the eye to other vast blocks 

 lying in the moorlands. The evening was exceedingly quiet, and 

 the blue minch separating this strange fragment of the British 

 isles from the mainland looked as calm as a giant asleep. From 

 where I sat I could see the Clamhan Inch like a light blue sea-gull 

 skimming the purpled sides of Ben Eval, and gradually nearing 

 the summit. Twenty yards behind came another of a darker hue, 

 not so readily perceived as her mate, but as quick at perceiving; 

 then the two came on abreast, and passed within ten yards, beat- 

 ing the ground like a well-trained couple, and making alternate 

 stoops at the poor mountain mice as they sat at their thresholds. 



But as the shadows deepened on the plain, the two birds having 

 apparently satisfied their hunger for the day, steadily yet grace- 

 fully descended the golden skirts of this strange mountain, as the 

 last rays of the evening light tinged the glistening granite, till at 

 length they reached the level of heath and water, against which they 

 soon became scarcely discernible. Casting my eyes westward in 

 the direction where I had seen on the previous evening the island 

 of St Kilda, like a blue speck in the distance, I felt sorry, stand- 

 ing as I did where so few persons think of venturing, that I could 

 not describe the singular picture. It was indeed a sight not often 

 enjoyed within the range of the British islands. Bird life was 

 now nowhere visible; in the strange stillness of approaching night 

 the natural surroundings looked as if some unseen hand were with- 

 drawing them from the world. 



" A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun; 



A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow; 

 Long had I watched the glory moving on 

 O'er the still radiance of the lake below. 

 Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow! 

 Even in its very motion there was rest; 



While every breath of eve that chanced to blow 

 Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west." 



