Ossian Collection > Gaelic bards

THE HAUNTED AVATER OF DUBH-THALAMH. 249
Then high and fast away it pass'd,
And lurid light it grew ;
Oh ! deep was the glow on the wave that it cast,
And red was its fiery hue.
As it sunk with a roar far away from the shore, —
With a roar and a wailing cry!
It sunk, and he saw it again no more
In the place where his comrades lie I
The scene of this ballad I remember distinctly, and
used to be quite familiar with as a boy. At that time, it
seemed to me to possess a sort of peculiar awfulness,
especially in the dusk of evening, or in the vague gloam-
ing and deep stillness of a summer night. Then not a
sound disturbed the air ; not a motion was seen or felt
along the earth. A beautiful Highland loch slept on the
smooth stones of the sea-beach, like an enchanted princess
waiting for the salute that was to restore her to conscious-
ness and life; and, dim as the far ofFclouds, and silent as
their own shadows, the dark brown hills looked over
fields and crofts and gloomy moors, down to the little
pebbly hollow through which, almost without a murmur,
crept a tiny brooklet — the supposed hiding-place of the
malignant genius that took the form of an old woman.
There was a fascination about the place. I used to feel
a thrill run through me as I drew near it in the darkness ;
nor am I much surprised at the Highland peasant who
told me how he was disturbed and profoundly aflected
there one summer midnight, by what he supposed to be
the wild cries of mournful and despairing spirits. In
the impressive silence he had heard the soft wailings of
the sea-birds on the rocks close by him ; and, in the
excited state of his imagination at the moment, he had
made the very natural mistake, for him at least, which
he mentioned.