There is hardly anywhere space enough for half a
dozen persons to crowd themselves together, nor room to stand upright.
On the whole, it is no cave at all, but only a crevice; and, in the
deepest and darkest part, you can look up and see the sky. It may have
sheltered Rob Roy for a night, and might partially shelter any Christian
during a shower.
Returning to the hotel, we started in a drosky (I do not know whether
this is the right name of the vehicle, or whether it has a right name,
but it is a carriage in which four persons sit back to back, two before
and two behind) for Aberfoyle. The mountain-side ascends very steeply
from the inn door, and, not to damp the horse's courage in the outset, we
went up on foot. The guide-book says that the prospect from the summit
of the ascent is very fine; but I really believe we forgot to turn round
and look at it. All through our drive, however, we had mountain views in
plenty, especially of great Ben Lomond, with his snow-covered head, round
which, since our entrance into the Highlands, we had been making a
circuit. Nothing can possibly be drearier than the mountains at this
season; bare, barren, and bleak, with black patches of withered heath
variegating the dead brown of the herbage on their sides; and as regards
trees the hills are perfectly naked.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51