The lake is here a mile and a
half wide, and it was our object to cross to Inversnaid, on the opposite
shore; so first we waved a handkerchief, and then kindled some straw on
the beach, in order to attract the notice of the ferryman at Inversnaid.
It was half an hour before our signals and shoutings resulted in the
putting off of a boat, with two oarsmen, who made the transit pretty
speedily; and thus we got across Loch Lomond. At Inversnaid there is a
small hotel, and over the rock on which it stands a little waterfall
tumbles into the lake,--a very little one, though I believe it is
reckoned among the other picturesque features of the scene.
We were now in Rob Roy's country, and at the distance of a mile or so,
along the shore of the lake, is Rob Roy's cave, where he and his
followers are supposed to have made their abode in troublous times.
While lunch was getting ready, we again took the boat, and went thither.
Landing beneath a precipitous, though not very lofty crag, we clambered
up a rude pathway, and came to the mouth of the cave, which is nothing
but a fissure or fissures among some great rocks that have tumbled
confusedly together. There is hardly anywhere space enough for half a
dozen persons to crowd themselves together, nor room to stand upright.
On the whole, it is no cave at all, but only a crevice; and, in the
deepest and darkest part, you can look up and see the sky. It may have
sheltered Rob Roy for a night, and might partially shelter any Christian
during a shower.
Pages:
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483