Before starting to come down you should look over to Camstraddan Bay, at Luss, and try to realise that the waters of the loch have increased so much in the course of ages that about 100 yards from the shore the ruins of houses are still visible. But Loch Lomond has other wonders than this; it is said to have waves “without wind, fish without fin, and a floating island.” The swell in the widest part, particularly after a storm, has probably given rise to the first of these marvels; vipers, shaped like eels, are said occasionally to swim from island to island, and this may account for the second; and the floating island, according to a very old tradition, shifted its quarters every now and then from one part of the loch to another, like the ancient Delos.
But if ever there was such an eccentric island it has now settled down and occupies a fixed place; but whether, as at Delos, this is the result of Phœbus’ action our philosophers do not determine. However, according to the old saying, that wonders will never cease, there is still another in connection with this loch. At long intervals Scotland seems to have been pushed up from her watery bed by the aid of mighty subterranean forces, which have raised the lake about 20 feet above the sea level, and converted it into a fresh-water lake. This has been already referred to, but here the next and last wonder comes in. This loch, thus raised, contains among a variety of other fishes one called the powan, which resembles a herring, the descendant, it is thought, of some one which had been too late in getting out. It is said, that there is only one other loch in Scotland in which powans are found.
The descent can be made with great ease, zigzagging it, in one and a half hours; and on no account should you either come down quickly or make short cuts unless you wish to have strained muscles for days to come, which will lessen the pleasant memories of a day you are not likely to forget. As you sail homewards on the loch below, you can sympathise somewhat with the man who had never been beyond the parish of Buchanan, and who, on ascending Ben Lomond, declared that he “never ken’t that the world was sich a big affair till it was a’ spread oot before” him.
MOUNT MISERY.
Guide-books are but too often blind guides, as they present certain objects for our admiration, which are accordingly visited and admired, but leave out all mention even of others of as great, if not greater, interest. For example, there rises up from the margin of the Queen of Scottish Lakes, Lomond, at its south end, about 3 miles from Balloch, a little mount, easy of access even to those who can only afford a Saturday afternoon to visit it, from which undoubtedly the best view of the loch is to be obtained. Here, if anywhere on earth, are congregated the choicest elements of pictorial wealth.
Take a return ticket to Balloch Station (not Balloch Pier); on arriving cross the Leven by the graceful suspension bridge, keep on the Kilmaronock road till you come to Haldane’s Mill, so-called from a former proprietor; then turn to the left, pass Balloch Castle, the seat of A. D. Brown, Esq., and when arrived at Boturich Castle, R. Finlay’s, Esq., you will find a path on the right which will lead you, without any difficulty of a physical kind, to the top, a quarter of a mile up. It would be as well to ask permission, however, at some of the officials close by to make the ascent, as, on account of a stupid vandalism on the part of excursionists, the proprietor has had lately to become somewhat conservative in his policies.
It is not known how this beautiful spot came to get such an unhappy name, but unless he had been atrabilious on the day he visited it, or had been a Southerner, who could not appreciate the beauties of a Scotch mist, its inventor could neither have had heart nor eye for the wilder beauties of nature, nor been a lover of the romantic. The steamer can take you up and down the loch to see its beauties of one kind and another, and there is not a finer sail in any part of the three kingdoms; but yet it is only a very faint and limited idea of its splendid scenery that one can get from the deck of a steamer. To get anything like an adequate conception of its many beauties you must ascend one or more of its hilltops. And for such a purpose we would strongly recommend Mount Misery.
Here, looking towards the head of the loch, it is seen in its greatest breadth, stretched out like a scroll beneath your feet. Here, also, it is seen in its greatest length, the eye reaching almost as far up as to Tarbet. You have a full view of its islands, which in a general way may be said to be as numerous as its miles in length, from the entrance of the Falloch to the exit of the Leven, and also of the different mountain ranges on its east and west banks, which seem to meet at the top, shutting up the prospect and mingling their bold and broken outline with the sky. Here, also, you get a view of its many curves and windings, now seeing it swelling out into a breadth of 7 or 8 miles, and then compressing itself into the narrow compass of something less than a mile. You can also understand, as you look at those high hills at its northern end, how it should sometimes have a depth of 600 feet, and how, partly from this fact, and from those others, that there are many shelving rocks at the bottom, and that the latter always run in one direction (there being no tide), it is rarely that the bodies of the “drowned” in it are recovered. Here, also, you can see some of its principal feeders, such as the Fruin, the Finlas, the Luss, and Douglas on the left, with the Endrick on the right, which, with its other tributaries, are said to pour in a larger supply of water than the Leven takes away.