With a waving of caps and handkerchiefs off they went, and soon they were driving along the beautiful mountain glens and through the Trossachs, which means literally a wooded gorge or ravine.
"There is the loch now," cried Don, presently.
"No, that is Loch Achray," said his uncle, "and that mountain is Ben Venue, but we shall see Loch Katrine very soon;" and it was not long before Dugald drew up on the very edge of the loch itself, and a camping-place was soon found under the trees and in sight of Ellen's Isle.
Rugs were brought from the break and spread on the ground around a big rock which was to serve as a table. Everybody helped to unpack the big baskets, for all were as hungry as if they had had no breakfasts.
Not much was said for a time but "Please pass that," and "Please pass this," and "Isn't this good?" until finally even the boys decided they had eaten enough.
"Papa, tell us about Ellen's Isle," said Janet, as they all sat around after lunch, and tried to see who could throw a stone the farthest into the water.
So Mr. Lindsay told them the story of the "fair Ellen," whom Sir Walter Scott wrote of in his great poem called "The Lady of the Lake." Ellen was called "the lady of the lake," and lived with her father on the little island yonder. Then Mr. Lindsay told them of "Roderick Dhu," and of the gatherings of the Clan Alpine which took place in the old days in a glen not far away, and how at a signal armed men wrapped in their plaids would spring up out of the seemingly lonely dells and glens as if by magic.
Those were wild days in Scotland long ago, days of fierce fights and brave deeds, when Clans met and rushed into battle with a wild "slogan," as their battle-cry was known.
"Sandy says that he does not believe that 'Rob Roy' was a real person; but he was, and lived right here, didn't he, Uncle Alan?" said Don, eagerly, in defence of his hero.