Burnside. 93 



the finger goes, and one of my companions comes back. He 

 looks at it professionally and at me contemptuously, saying : 

 "Put it in the cold water there," and away he goes. He 

 was right ; the finger wasn't broken, nor the wrist, and as I 

 did not feel the result of the fall for more than three months 

 after the mischief was done, I suppose I deserved the 

 professional contempt. Pulling myself together and using a 

 little more circumspection over the next bit of the descent, I 

 soon join my companions, who are sitting on one of the large 

 rounded blocks which strew the bottom of the burn, from 

 which we are soon drinking our fill, and laving our hands in 

 its sparkling water. 



There is the big Ben towering high above us, quite free 

 from cloud now, as indeed are all the mountains round. The 

 mist has passed away, not a cloud appears in the bright blue 

 above. My companions are terribly fidgety, and presently one 

 of them sprinkles his face with water. Then a tingling, 

 creeping sensation takes possession of my neck, cheeks, hands, 

 in short, of every exposed portion of my body, and my nostrils 

 and eyes itch abominably. Rubbing only makes matters 

 worse. As I look at them I see that my companions 

 are covered with countless numbers of tiny midges, which 

 swarm on the surface of this mountain burn. Millions of 

 little atoms there are crawling into our eyes, ears and 

 nostrils. We bathe our faces in the water, and very quickly 

 get on the move. 



For a short distance we go down the bed of the burn, 

 springing from rock to rock. What a lesson do these 

 rounded, rocky masses teach us ! Here and there, scattered 

 over the mountain side, we have seen large masses, some- 

 times collected in a group, at other times lying isolated and 



