At the head of the loch, we approach the ruin of Eilean Donan Castle, which stands at the junction of three lochs—Loch Alsh, Loch Long, and Loch Duich. The castle, built on a detached island, must in olden times have been a place of strength; but the story goes that it was demolished by the guns of Cromwell. Passing the Castle on the left, we enter Loch Duich, which, though an arm of the sea, has all the appearance of a fresh-water lake, so smooth is its surface, and so soft and fertile are its banks. It attains its greatest beauty near the mansion-house of Inverinate and the village of Kintail, in the midst of rich woods on its northern shore. The prevailing green tints gleam out in the fitful sunshine with a richness and variety that are enchanting. At its head, the loch is closed in by a magnificent group of pyramidal mountains—Ben Attow, Scour Ouran, Ben Mhor, and the Saddle—all rising to a height of upwards of 3300 feet, and separated by well-defined and gloomy valleys.
Head of Loch Duich.
The return voyage in the evening was very fine. As we emerged from Loch Alsh and crossed Loch Carron, we had again a grand view of the Coolins, cloud-capped and solemn, and traversed by the axled rays of the setting sun. We steamed in the direction of Loch Kishorn, a northerly arm of Loch Carron, where the ‘Dunottar Castle’ awaited us, and where we anchored for the night.
The Coolins—from Loch Alsh.
That night was made memorable by several incidents. In the first place, the electric search-light was got into working order, and we astonished the natives of Courthill and other solitary houses by flashing the light of day in upon them at midnight. The ship’s pinnace and other small craft on the loch appeared like lime-light pictures thrown on a screen. The submarine electric tackle, which is used in cases of accident to the screw, or to the bottom of the vessel, was also got into play; and a very striking and novel effect it produced. A number of small fishes were attracted by the light, and swam about within the halo it formed. The scene recalled forcibly the stanza which Byron completed by adding the last two lines:—
“The sun’s perpendicular ray
Illumined the depths of the sea;
And the fishes, beginning to sweat,