CHAPTEE XXV. 



Thunderstorm— Potato Field in Bloom— The Hazel Tree— Hazel Nuts— Potato Shaws for 

 Cattle — Ferns for Bedding C3.ttls—Marmie?n — Scott. 



With an occasional fine day [August 1871], the past fortnight 

 must, we fear, be characterised as having been upon the whole wet 

 — very wet, a stranger would say — and not a little stormy withaL 

 We had a tremendous thunderstorm early on Sunday morning, with 

 the most magnificent display of forked lightning that we have ever 

 seen, while the very earth seemed to quake and tremble under the 

 crash of peal upon peal of thunder, so near and loud at times as to 

 be absolutely terrible. It is no wonder that the soundest sleepers 

 were awakened from their midnight slumbers by the hurly-burly. 

 We ourselves got up for a time, and sat at our window, watching 

 the lightning that darted incessantly among the mountain summits 

 with startling vividness, revealing their serrated peaks at times 

 tlirough the very heart of the thunder-cloud as distinctly as if it 

 were clearest noonday. Eain, too, fell the while in torrents, that 

 instantly filled river and mountain stream to overflowing ; and as 

 the storm passed away, and we retired to rest in the grey, uncertain 

 twilight of the early dawn, we were lulled into a sleep, that lasted well 

 nigh until noon, by the weird and wild music of " the noise of many 

 waters." We thought, as we sat alone in the midst of that magnifi- 

 cent storm, of him (was it John Foster f) who, on a similar occasion, 

 turned round to his companion and remarked, in a tone of deep 

 solemnity, " It is a fine night ; the Lord is abroad t" Crops, though 

 generally further from maturity than is usual at this date, continue 



