To Mountain Tarn 



with all its delightful attendants, to St. John. 

 Mark how the story runs. 



"We could distinguish the head of the female 

 on the nest. It was determined that I should 

 remain concealed near the loch, that I might have 

 a chance of shooting the old osprey. At last I 

 fired, and the poor bird, after wheeling blindly 

 for a few moments, fell far to the leeward of me. 

 We found two beautiful eggs in the nest." In 

 the previous chapter occurs, "Why the poor 

 osprey should be persecuted I know not, as it is 

 quite harmless." Harmless, certainly in Suther- 

 land, where were trout enough for all ; harmless 

 as beautiful. It reads very strangely, the deed 

 and the sentiment. A naturalist who has lived 

 on the shore for years writes me : " I know the 

 lake well and every bird on it. There is no 

 osprey, nor, so far as I know, has there been one 

 since that shot by St. John." 



Much the same may be said of other Suther- 

 land lochs visited on the tour. There is no 

 fishing eagle. Long since have the winds scat- 

 tered the nests on the truncated cones. The 

 osprey is a shy bird. Easily driven away, it does 

 not readily come back. Sutherland has lost the 

 old spell. Its attractions have vanished, save the 

 quaint sites, and these are not enough in them- 

 selves. 



Loch Assynt has a ruined castle standing on a 

 peninsula, once an island. On the highest part 



157 



