212 Wild Connemara. By i)r Charles Stuart. 



tortured by the gad-flies, which bled us all over. It was several 

 days till some of our men recovered from the poison, which 

 caused great swelling in their faces and hands. ParaflS.n is said 

 to be the best application to prevent them stinging, but some 

 persons might think the cure worse than the disease. Not 

 daring to drink the water in the bogs, a parching thirst caused 

 us to beat a retreat, which we found easier said than done. An 

 Irish bog is a much more serious affair than a Scots one, and to 

 extricate one's self if at all heavy, requires very quick stepping 

 indeed. However, the high road was at last reached, and a fine 

 clear stream to drink from, which, mixed with something 

 stronger, sent us on to Clifden in good time. Two of our party 

 were hors de comhat from the heat and doubtful drinking water, 

 and were both in a serious state, wishing to be left behind next 

 day. However, I would not consent to that but got them with 

 difficulty on a car, and with our impedimenta reached Round- 

 stone after a ten miles drive. Here, there was a comfortable 

 hostelry, and one of the invalids was piit to bed and to sleep, till 

 we returned from the hill. Urrisbeg is the mountain rising 

 immediately behind the inn, and our landlord kindly pointed to 

 a hollow on the ridge, directly to the north of which he stated 

 was the station for the Erica Mediterranea. We walked steadily 

 on, passing fine patches of Alisma nutans and other water loving 

 plants, in a moist cut by the track. We soon reached the 

 hollow, and taking the map and the compass, separated and 

 walked in a north east direction. How easily the plant might 

 have been missed in such a wild waste ! Adhering strictly to 

 the direction as indicated, I walked into a patch covering about 

 an acre of ground. A friend who had preceded me, walked 

 through the middle of it, thinking it was only E. purpurea, but 

 on giving a signal we were soon digging up specimens, and 

 afterwards drank to its health. The plant was new to all of the 

 party, and we rejoiced as was in the circumstances natural. 



Putting ourselves in mai'ching order, Loch Bullard was now our 

 destination, seen dimly a long way off across the valley in a 

 westerly direction. The Maidenhair Fern, Asplenium Capillus 

 Veneris of our greenhouses, grows on more than one rock on its 

 shores. So putting as much walking power on as possible, we 

 reached our loch, and found some of our men had got before 

 us and found the plants. They were of small size but plentiful, 

 and difficult to get out of the cracks of the limestone, which 

 here crops out through the gneiss. 



