cuap. xxm1.| HEAVY RAIN—FLOODS. 181 
and in five minutes I was as wet as if I had been swimming 
through the river. We saw the burns we had to cross in our way 
home tumbling in foaming torrents down the hill-sides. In the 
morning we had stepped across them without wetting our feet. 
The first one that we came to I looked at with wonder. Instead 
of a mere thread of crystal water, creeping rather than flowing 
through the stones which filled its bed, we had to wade through 
a roaring torrent, which was carrying in its course pieces of turf, 
heather, and even large stones. We crossed with some difficulty, 
holding by each other’s collars. Two or three burns we passed 
in this manner, the rain still continuing, and if possible increasing. 
I looked round at my companion, and was only prevented from 
laughing at his limp and rueful countenance by thinking that he 
probably had just as much cause for merriment in my appearance. 
The poor hound was perfectly miserable, as she followed me with 
the rain running in streams down her long ears. 
After some time we came opposite the shealing where we had 
been with the shepherds in the morning. And here my com- 
panion said that he must leave me, having particular business 
with the other men, who had come on purpose to meet him there. 
He warned me to be very careful in crossing the burns, as, if I 
once lost my footing in any of them, I should probably never get 
up again. 
Off I tramped through the sodden ground. I managed the 
first burn pretty well. But the next one was wider, and, if pos- 
sible, more rapid. I had no stick to sound its depth, but saw 
that it was too strong to venture into; so I turned up its course, 
hoping it would get narrower and shallower higher up. Its banks 
were steep and rocky, and covered in some parts with hazel and 
birch. On a withered branch of one of the latter was a large 
buzzard, sitting mournfully in the rain, and uttering its shrill, 
wild cry, a kind of note between a whistle and a scream. The 
bird sat so tamely, that in a pet I determined to try if 1 could 
not stop his ominous-sounding voice with a rifle-ball. But, after 
taking a most deliberate aim at him, the copper cap snapped. 
I tried another with equally bad success. So I had to continue 
my way, leaving the bird where he was. I could find no place 
in the burn that was fordable for some distance; and I said to 
myself. ‘If I had but a stick to sound the water with!” The 
