We had spent the greater part of the morning
at the delightful village of Dalmally, and had gone
upon the lake under the guidance of the excellent
clergyman who was then incumbent at Glenorquhy,*
* This venerable and hospitable gentleman's name was
MacIntyre.
and had heard an hundred legends of the
stern chiefs of Loch Awe, Duncan with the thrum
bonnet, and the other lords of the now mouldering
towers of Kilchurn.* Thus it was later than usual
* Note A. Loch Awe.
when we set out on our journey, after a hint or two
from Donald concerning the length of the way to
the next stage, as there was no good halting-place
between Dalmally and Oban.
Having bid adieu to our venerable and kind cicerone,
we proceeded on our tour, winding round
the tremendous mountain called Cruachan Ben,
which rushes down in all its majesty of rocks and
wilderness on the lake, leaving only a pass, in
which, notwithstanding its extreme strength, the
warlike clan of MacDougal of Lorn were almost
destroyed by the sagacious Robert Bruce. That
King, the Wellington of his day, had accomplished,
by a forced march, the unexpected man
uvre
of forcing a body of troops round the other side of
the mountain, and thus placed them in the flank
and in the rear of the men of Lorn, whom at the
same time he attacked in front.
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