16 CHAPTER I. 



* 



my trunk, now for so long as I should stay abroad, a "box." That 

 big, Yankee box, slipped gently from the van, and then the train 

 steamed on into the mist and left me standing not far from one 

 other passenger, and a lone porter. The other man was an English- 

 man more used to the ways of the country and besides in more haste 

 than I, so he collared the porter first, while I waited. 



With the luggage of the other man the porter crossed the track 

 to the station building. I expected him to return, but he did not, so 

 I went over and engaged the station-master in conversation. My 

 instructions had been that a conveyance would await me at Lairg to 

 take me to Benmore, said to be twenty odd miles up in the hills. 



From the railway official, who was courtesy itself, I gained news 

 of the motor, which stood humming outside the door. Luckily it 

 was one with narrow and deep afterbody, a type which I was often 

 to see in Scotland. One seat in front, and two facing inward for 

 the full length of the afterbody, say five feet long, in the rear. 

 Here my trunk and bag went and at a nod we were off. 



Two miles by a winding road brought us to a white, immaculately 

 white, inn which nestled like a snow-colored bird upon the shore of 

 the blue and winding loch, curving between two high brown and green 

 hills. Here I descended and having the "box" brought into a con- 

 venient room in the inn, swiftly changed into heavy shooting clothes. 

 Twenty-eight miles even by motor through the mist and over the 

 Highlands would be no joke for a man in light city clothes. 



Finished changing, I found my way to the little low-ceiled dining 

 room, where before a wide, small-paned window looking out upon 

 the Loch I lunched, taking care to stow away, of the simple but 

 good food offered, enough to carry me through my ride. 



'Then, with raincoat over all, dear old shooting cap pulled low 

 over spectacled eyes, which would fog but what was the difference 

 I climbed to my seat beside the driver, took one last look at the 

 Sutherland Arms, white inn, nestling there, another at my "box" and 

 bag, tarpaulin covered in the back of the car, touched a match to a 

 fresh pipe, and we were off. 



