1858.] BOTANY OF LOCH KINORD. 427 



tminterruptedly over innumerable hills and dales, which in the 

 autumnal sun gleam as one continuous sheet of burnished gold, 

 ripe for the sickle of the frugal husbandman, eastwards to the 

 very margin of the rippling ocean, and the huge granitic moun- 

 tain-masses that lie tumbled in wild confusion as far as the 

 eye can penetrate the western horizon, lies a placid loch known 

 by the name of Kinord. By what we conceive to be a most 

 happy improvement in the route usually pursued by the tourist 

 in visiting the Aberdeenshire Highlands, he cannot fail to see 

 this now little-frequented sheet of water, lying somewhat to the 

 north of the highway, and he will be at once struck with the 

 wonderful effect it has in enhancing the charms of the land- 

 scape that here spreads itself before him. But for one anxious 

 to make the most of his tour, — especially if it be a botanical 

 one, — and who is at the same time adopting the only means of 

 thoroughly enjoying it, namely, performing it "afoot," as a 

 late sprightly writer in ' Maga' hath it, it will be advisable to 

 cultivate a more intimate acquaintance Avith Loch Kinord than 

 the merely distant prospect of it can afford us. We are now 

 at its margin, strolling amid the fragrant and lachrymose Birches 

 that encircle its placid bosom with a girdle of Nature's most 

 perfect workmanship. A feeling of calm and pleasurable con- 

 tent begins to creep over us as we cull and contemplate the 

 tiny flowerets that bloom, perhaps until now unheeded, beneath 

 our bounding footsteps, and which have as yet ceased not to 

 " waste their fragrance on the desert air," until the present 

 humble worshipper at Nature's shrine felt, as the odour ex- 

 pressed from banks of lowly Thyme was wafted upwards on the 

 breeze, a deeper significance in that aroma than the mere senses 

 wot of. But why is it that at once we almost feel as tres- 

 passers in these so little-disturbed glades, as yonder graceful roe 

 bounds, startled at our noisy and unwelcome approach, from 

 the mantling cover of the Brakes, where her mid-day siesta has 

 been passed? Ay, why? Are not these creatures, in their 

 way, purer and happier than fallen man, inhabitants more meet 

 for retreats such as this, though 



" Man, His last work, who seemed so fair, 

 Such splendid purpose in his eyes, 

 Who rolled the psahn to wintry skies, 

 Wlio built him fanes of fruitless prayer," 



