In the deep Trossach's wildest nook.
The place thus indicated may be reached by leaving the fine wagon road and walking up the hill on the right by a path that leads along a little rill to a dense thicket, over which hang some rugged cliffs. We spent a pleasant Sunday afternoon exploring the dark ravines,—
Where twined the path in shadow hid,
Round many a rocky pyramid,
Shooting abruptly from the dell
Its thunder-splintered pinnacle.
This is one of the most delightful spots in the Trossachs, though never seen by the thousands who whirl through all this enchanted land in a single day, packed five or six in a seat on a jolting coach, breathing the dust of the road and frittering away their golden opportunity in idle chatter. You cannot catch the spirit of this wild and rugged region unless you walk into the unfrequented parts and see the 'native bulwarks of the pass,' where
The rocky summits, split and rent,
Formed turret, dome, or battlement,
Or seemed fantastically set
With cupola or minaret.
Here Fitz-James found himself alone and on foot, for his good grey horse had fallen, exhausted, never to rise again. Marvelling at the beauty of the scene, he wandered on, until, seeing no pathway by which to issue from the glen, he climbed a 'far-projecting precipice'; when suddenly there burst upon his sight the grandest view of all, Loch Katrine,—
gleaming with the setting sun
One burnished sheet of living gold.
As sentinels guarding an enchanted land, two mountains stood like giants: on the south rose Ben Venue, its sides strewn with rough volcanic rocks and its summit 'a wildering forest feathered o'er': on the north 'Ben An heaved high his forehead bare.'
The stranger stood enraptured and amazed. Then, thinking to call some straggler of his train, he blew a loud blast upon his horn. To his great surprise the sound was answered by a little skiff which glided forth