A SUMMER RAMBLE AMONG THE HEBRIDES. 139 



CHAPTEK IX. 



No sailing vessel attempts threading the Kyles of Skye from 

 the south in the face of an adverse tide. The currents of 

 Kyle Rhea care little for the wind-filled sail, and battle at 

 times, on scarce unequal terms, with the steam-propelled 

 paddle. The Toward Castle this morning had such a struggle 

 to force her way inwards as may be seen maintained at the door 

 of some place of public meeting during the heat of some agi- 

 tating controversy, when seat and passage within can hold no 

 more, and a disappointed crowd press eagerly for admission 

 from without. Viewed from the anchoring place at Glenelg, 

 the opening of the Kyle presents the appearance of the bot- 

 tom of a landlocked bay ; the hills of Skye seem leaning 

 against those of the mainland : and the tide-buffeted steamer 

 looked this morning as if boring her way into the earth like 

 a disinterred mole, only at a rate vastly slower. First, how- 

 ever, with a progress resembling that of the minute-hand of a 

 clock, the bows disappeared amid the heath, then the midships, 

 then the quarter-deck and stern, and then, last of all, the red 

 tip of the sun-brightened union-jack that streamed gaiidily 

 behind. I had at least two hours before me ere the Betsey 

 might attempt weighing anchor ; and, that they might leave 

 some mark, I went and spent them ashore in the opening of 

 Glenelg, a gneiss district, nearly identical in structure with 



