THE SPIRIT OF GLENCROE, 105 



THE SPIRIT OF GLENCROE. 



WHO has not heard of the Pass of Glencroe? The 

 hills rising perpendicularly on both sides, gray to the 

 top with immense masses of rock, that look as if an in- 

 fant's touch would roll them from their insecure basis. 

 It was my hap to live for a summer close to this savage 

 gorge. When the weather was dull and rainy, and the 

 clouds hung low upon the mountain-tops, the frowning 

 grandeur of the scene could scarcely fail to depress the 

 most buoyant spirits ; and even when the day was fine 

 and clear, a feeling of awe at least was inspired. 



When I first came to the neighbourhood of Glencroe 

 it was in early summer, and, of course, the Scotch mists 

 were thick and frequent ; but, overlooking the greater 

 angling attractions of Loch-Lomond and its neighbouring 

 streams, I generally took advantage of the fine days to 

 wander, fishing-rod in hand, up this lonely and favourite 

 haunt, to the little moor loch at its head. 



The " Lochan Rest," so called from being close to 

 the top of the glen, where a stone is set up with the 





