The Scottish Naturalist. 



near Tain. His Majesty's expenses on these occasions were very 

 small. "Jacob Edmainstown was paid for turcing the Kingis 

 doggis there the sum of 14 shillings," and 14 shillings to the boat- 

 man ; 5 shillings was also paid to a man for " prefing the Don," 

 and 5 shillings was given by the " Kingis commands to ane blind 

 man." 



THE DEMOLITION. 



During the civil war in the 17th century, the stronghold of 

 Kinnord was often made a place of temporary retreat and a rally- 

 ing point for fresh disturbances, and thus became a source of 

 considerable annoyance to the Government, who, in 1648, at the 

 instance of the Duke of Argyle, passed an Act in which " the 

 fortifications of Loch Kender are ordered to be slighted" And 

 slighted they were. Every place of strength and importance was 

 wrecked, and the whole of the historical peel and its defences 

 demolished by the hands of unscrupulous soldiers. The dregs of 

 ruin followed, the whole district was forsaken, its importance 

 lapsed into superstitious dread. Cattlelifters and men of bad 

 fame frequented its remains. It was believed to be haunted by 

 ghosts of the dead, and that direful apparitions infested its calm 

 and placid waters. The scattered ruins of its ancient dwellings, 

 and the wooded undulations of its surrounding shores were 

 believed to be the abode of countless hosts of fairies, whose night 

 revelries and mysterious visitations gave rise to ominous forebod- 

 ings. Weird witches, warlocks, and spirits from the regions 

 below, were believed to hold their meetings and to practise their 

 mysterious art among the blackened mass of its gloomy ruins. 



Gone are all those superstitions now. The spread of education 

 and the rapid strides of invention and research have dispelled all 

 those visionary beliefs. Yet there lingers a thought of the succes- 

 sive scenes and conflicts of the busy past. Even the minds of 

 thoughtless youth the more enjoy their recreations among the 

 ancient ruins. The imagination of the antiquarian, as he walks 

 over the once busy arena of long-forgotten ages, is filled with dim 

 and shrouded visions of the past, which is well expressed in the 

 words of the poet — 



" The hills are shadows, and they flow 

 From form to form, and nothing stands. 

 They melt like mist : — The solid lands 

 Like clouds they shape themselves and go." 



