11 
AT THE SOURCES OF THE DEE 
and separated by patches of peat bog. Not a 
house was to be seen, nor a sheep, nor even a tree 
nor so much as a blade of green grass. Not a 
\estige of life can be found here, thought I; but 
1 was reproved by a cry that startled me. ’ The 
scarlet crest and bright eye of a moor-cock were 
suddenly protruded from a tuft of heather, and I 
heard with delight the well-known kok, kok of the 
blessed bird, as the Highlanders call him It 
was a good omen; the night and dulness had'fled, 
and I limped along as cheerily as I could. My 
half-frozen blood soon regained its proper tempera¬ 
ture ; ere long I reached the base of the rocky 
ri ge, and after passing some hills, traversing a 
ong valley, and ascending a mountain of consider¬ 
able height, I took out my map, and looking 
eastward below me, saw, to my great satisfaction, 
a rivulet running for several miles directly in the 
course marked. I was assured that this stream 
whether the source or not, ran into the Dee, as it 
proceeded eastward, and therefore I directed mv 
steps toward it. But here, too, a scene occurred 
which gave me great pleasure. Some low croaking 
sounds came from among the stones around me 
and presently after a splendid flock of grey ptarmi¬ 
gans, about fifty in number, rose into the air and 
whirred past me on their way to the opposite 
eminence. On the brow of the hill I found two 
large fountains, the sources of the stream below 
of each of which I drank a mouthful, and pro¬ 
ceeded. My friend, however, was not to be seen • 
but it was too early; and so to pass the time I 
explored another of the sources of the rivulet that 
rose farther up in the glen. But at length the 
scene became too dreary to be endured: desolate 
mountains, on whose rugged sides lay patches of 
snow that the summer’s suns had failed to melt • 
wild glens, scantily covered with coarse grass,” 
