Summer at the Lake of Monteith

ii4 Tlie Lake of Monteith.
boatman; and, with feelings of confidence, we take our seats
by his side, and soon find that we are under the charge
of a true son of the Graeme,* and that the spirit of that
ancient clan fills the old man's bosom, while its blood flows
pure in his veins. We have just been seated, when we
find his memory fresh with all the legendary tales and
fairy incidents of his cherished vale, while he is deep
read in historic lore; and as, with clutched oar and bent
back, the eager old man pulls on through the blue waters,
he points us to the pass, where, in days gone by, their
native Glenny vomited forth her warrior sons on the red
hosts of Cromwell, and, like the mighty avalanche from
the brow of yonder hill, crushed the invaders. He points
us also to Portend's craggy glen, where, rock built on rock,
it raises its riven head far in mid air, and, with ragged face,
shattered brow, and tottering form, stands
" Nodding o'er the cavern grey."
He tells you of its deep pools and tumbling waterfalls, and
of the rare ferns that clothe its banks and adorn its sides.
Behind we see Bendhu, with blue head and barren face,
its bare rocks glancing in the summer sun. On the lake's
reedy margin we see the feathered steep of the Cowden,
through the shadows of the noble oaks that clothe its side,
deep in the blue waters. But ere we have half surveyed
the grandeur of hill and glen, our boat strikes the landing-
place, and we turn to gaze on the varied glories of Inch-
* The venerable Mr. Hugh Graham, Gateside, Port-or-Monteith, the respected
representative of the ancient Grahams of Mondhuie, and to whom the author is
highly indebted for the tradition of the "Earl's Niece," &c. Parties visiting the Lake
should call on Mr. Graham, and they will find he can "preach without a paper."