Clisham: A Climb in Harris 



as the Taransay Glorigs, extending northward from it. 

 Southward of Taransay, the Atlantic swell broke slowly on the 

 wild headland known as Toe Head, and on the broad stretch 

 of sands — Traigh Scarasta and Traigh an Taobh Tuatha — 

 the sun shone brightly. Beyond that again were the islands 

 of the Sound of Harris, Pabbay, by reason of its hill, Beinn 

 a' Charnain, being most noticeable. In the distance could be 

 seen, stretching out into the Atlantic, the north-west point of 

 North Uist. Westward the view did not extend far beyond 

 West Loch Tarbert, though on a clear day St. Kilda can be 

 seen from Clisham, the distance being roughly sixty miles. 

 Almost at our feet there nestled the two small islands of 

 Soay Mor and Soay Beag, close in towards the northern shore 

 of the loch. A little north of west many hills stood between 

 us and the Atlantic. Close to us, across Coire Dhubh, rose 

 Mullach fo Dheas, less than 200 feet lower than Clisham (or 

 The Clisham, as it is known to the natives) itself. Farther 

 west Ullaval and Turga Mor (2,227 feet) were hidden in 

 dark clouds. North lay Loch Roag, with its many islets, 

 and had the weather been clear we should have seen, far out 

 to sea, the group of the Flannan Islands or the Seven 

 Hunters. Immediately below us the great Loch Langabhat 

 lay blue in the sunshine, a strong breeze ruffling its waters. 



The peninsula of Eye, with Tiumpan Head at its eastern 

 extremity, could be seen indistinctly; but the view in this 

 direction did not extend so far as the Butt of Lewis, or Rudha 

 Eorrapidh, as it is known in the Gaelic language. 



South-east lay Loch Seaforth, that long arm of the sea 

 that penetrates inland, following a devious course, a distance 

 of close on twenty miles. Sailing on its blue surface were 

 two small boats, their crotal-dyed sails showing up as dark 

 specks against the waters. Out into the Minch lay the group 

 of the Sennt or Shiant Islands, soft sunshine lighting up 

 their grassy slopes, where sheep graze. Near them a deep- 

 sea trawler was steering north, making perhaps for the 

 Iceland fishing grounds, her mizen set, and smoke 



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