Chapter 18 Chapter Eighteen From Loch Soft Dream to Loch Catlin

Harry carried Nell on both arms down the ramp at Arthur's house, James Starr and Jack Ryan following behind him.After a few hours' rest and a refreshing lunch at the Longbury's, they intended to top up their excursion with a walk through the country of the lakes. Nell regained her strength.From then on her eyes could be opened wide in the light, and her lungs breathed abundantly this refreshing and hygienic air.The green of the trees, the nuances of plant color, the azure blue of the sky, the series of colors unfolded before her eyes. A train at a mainline station brought Nell and her traveling companions to Glasgow.There, from the last bridge over the Creed, they could admire the river's curious coastal movements.They then spent the night at the Royal Hotel in Kemre.

The next day, from the "Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway" station, the train would quickly carry them to the southernmost point of Loch Romney, via Dumbarton and Baruch. "That's the home of Robert Lowe and Fergus Mark Gregor!" cried James Starr, "the land so poetically celebrated by Walter Scott!—you don't understand This place, Jack?" "I know it by its songs, Mr Starr," replied Jack Ryan, "when a place is sung so well, it must be proud!" "Yes, indeed," cried the Engineer, "and our dear Nell will have fondest memories of it!"

"With a guide like you, Mr. Ventar," Harry replied, "it's doubly rewarding, because you'll be telling us the local history as we watch." "Yes, Harry," said the engineer, "I will speak as well as I can remember, but on one condition: that Jolly Jack will be my assistant! And when I get tired of talking, he will sing!" "Don't have to tell me a second time," Jack Ryan retorted, trilling as if he were going to raise his voice to the register of "la." Take the railway from Glasgow to Baruch, only about 20 miles between Scotland's commercial metropolis and the southernmost tip of Loch Loch.

The train passed Dumbarton, the royal town and county capital, whose castle, forever fortified by the Treaty of Union, was elegantly and securely built on the two summits of a gigantic basalt crag. Dumbarton is located at the confluence of the Creed and Lewin rivers.On this topic, James Starr describes several features of Mary Stuart's adventures.Indeed, it was from this town that she set off to marry Francis II and become queen of France.It was also there that after 1815, the British cabinet planned to imprison Napoleon, but Santa Elena's choice prevailed, which is why the British prisoner later died on a rock island in the Atlantic Ocean and became the most used material for legendary records.

After a while, the train stopped at Baruch, near a wooden barrier that dropped to the lake. A steamboat called the Sinclair waited for travelers on the lake.Nell and her traveling companions bought tickets to Infansney, at the northern end of Lake Sweet Dreams, and boarded the boat. The day began with a good sun, sweeping away those British mists that so often obscured it.Not a single detail of the scenery that unfolded during this 30-mile voyage could have been missed by the tourists on the Sinclair.Nell sat in the back of the boat between James Starr and Harry, absorbing with all her senses the gorgeous poetry so powerfully inscribed by this beautiful Scottish nature.

Jack Ryan paced up and down the deck of the Sinclair, asking the engineer constantly, but the latter didn't need someone else to ask.As this home of Robert Lowe unfolded before his eyes, he described it with gusto. In the water at the forefront of Lake Roumeng, many islands or islets first appeared.Scatter like sowing seeds. The "Sinclair" walked along their steep banks, and the gap between the islands presented either a lonely valley or an irregular throat lined with steep rocks. "Nel," said James Starr, "each of these islands has its legend, perhaps its song, and so do these hills by the lake. It may be said that, without too much expectation, this place History will be written with the grandeur of the island and the mountain."

"Do you know, Mr Starr," said Harry, "what this part of Soft Dreams reminds me of?" "What does it remind you of, Harry?" "Thousands of islands in Lake Ontario so admirably described by Cooper. You should be as stirred by the imagination as I am, my dear Nell, because a few days ago, I read for you to be rightly seen This novel became the representative work of this American writer." "Indeed, Harry," replied the maiden, "it looks exactly the same, and the 'Sinclair' sailed between the islands as the dhow Freshwater Jasper sailed between the islands of Lake Ontario. drive by!"

"Well," went on the engineer, "this shows that these two landscapes are equally worthy of being sung by two poets! I don't know about the thousands of islands in Lake Ontario, Harry, but I doubt they will be as beautiful as Romney. This archipelago looks more varied. Behold the view! This is the Isle of Morey, with the old fort of Lenox on it, the Duchess of Albany after her father, her husband, and her two sons were killed by Jacques I Lived here after ordering the beheading. These are the islands of Kra, Cro, and Tor. Some islands are full of rocks, deserted, and seem to have no vegetation, and some islands show green round hilltops. Here, larch and birch, and there, a patch of yellow dry heather. Really! I can hardly imagine the thousands of islands in Lake Ontario can present such a variety of scenery!"

"What little harbor is that?" asked Nell, who had turned toward the eastern shore of the lake. "That's Balmaha, which forms the entrance to the Highlands," replied James Starr, "where our Scottish Highlands began. Those ruins you see, Nell, are the ruins of a convent , and those scattered graves hold various members of the Mark Gregor family whose names are still well-known throughout the place." "Famous for the blood the family spilled and made others spill!" Harry pointed out. "You're right," replied James Starr, "it must be admitted that fame due to battles is still the most sensational. Those battle stories are old..."

"But they live on forever in song," added Jack Ryan. Thereupon, in confirmation of his words, the gallant lad sang the first verses of an old war song detailing the attack by Alexander Mark Gregor of Grand Slay against Humphrey of Luce. Ser Kirqueava's exploits. Nell listened, but she got only a bleak impression from these battle stories.Why did it seem to her that so much blood would be spilled on this endless plain, when the stronghold there should offend no one? The shore of the lake is estimated to be three or four miles long, and tends to approach the perimeter of the little port of Luce.Nell was able to see the old tower of the castle.Then the "Sinclair" sailed north again, and before the eyes of the tourists there appeared Ben-Romance, which was about 3,000 feet above the lake. "Admirable mountain!" Neil cried, "and from it Look at it from the top, how beautiful it must be!"

"Yes, Nell," replied James Starr, "you see how proudly that hilltop is freed from the oak-tree, larch-gardened lower part of the hill! Farther on, we can see our ancient Two-thirds of Caledonia. The Mark Gregor clan usually lived there, on the eastern side of the lake. Not far away, the battle between the Jacobite clan and the Hanofrien clan bloodbathed these ravaged The canyon. There, on those beautiful nights, rose this pale moon, which old legends call 'Mark Farlana's Lantern.' There, the echo still repeats Robert Lowe and Mark The immortal name of Gregor Campbell!" Ben Soft Dream, the last peak of the Grampians, certainly deserves the praise of the great writer of Scottish romances.As James Starr points out, there are mountains taller and capped with perpetual snow, but there is probably no more poetic peak anywhere in the world. "And," he added, "when I think that this book - Soft Dreams belongs entirely to the Duke of Montrose! His lordship owns a hill, and a lawn in his little garden with a London bourgeois Same." By this time the "Sinclair" had arrived in the country of Tarbey, and was to carry the tourists to Inverelle on the opposite bank of the lake.Seen from this place, all the beauty of Ben-Roumeng is on display.Its slopes were troughed by those torrents, shining like some molten silver disks. The village grew steeper and steeper as the Sinclair made its way up the foothills.Here and there there were barely a few solitary trees, among them a few willows, the twigs of which had formerly been used to hang the lowly. "To save the noose," James Starr pointed out. However, the lake narrows as it extends northward.The mountains on both sides narrow it even more.The steamship still sails along several islands and islets, Infrugrass, Elaid-Hu, where stands the remains of a fort belonging to the Marc Farlana family.Finally, the shores of the two lakes converged, and the Sinclair stopped at Inversine Station. There, while waiting for lunch to be prepared for them, Nell and her traveling companions went to visit a rapid that plunged into the lake from a considerable height near the disembarkation point.It stands there like a scenery, arousing the interest of tourists.A trembling bridge rests on the turbulent water, and the bridge is filled with mist.From this place a large part of Loch Romney could be seen, and the Sinclair appeared as a point on the surface. After lunch, it's time to consider Lake Catlin.Several vehicles bearing the coat of arms of the Brydarbana family - the family which had previously secured firewood and water for escaped Robert Lloyd - were at the disposal of the tourists and offered them the outstanding comfort of English bodies. Harry had Nell sit on the top floor the way he would sit during the day, with his traveling companions sitting beside him.A dashing coachman in a red livery held the reins of his four horses in his left hand, and the harness began to climb up the winding river course of the rapids. The road is extremely steep.As the road surface rises, the shape of the surrounding hilltops seems to change.The whole chain of shores across the lake was seen to grow proudly, and the peaks of Aroka looked down upon the valley of Infrugrass.On the left, Ben-Romen Mountain emerges, showing its rugged steepness with its northern slopes. The area between Loch Sweetheart and Loch Catlin has a wilderness feel to it.The valley begins with some narrow defiles that end in the glen of Aberfoyle.The name brought back to the young girl painful memories of those dreadful abysses where she had spent her childhood down the wells.So James Starr hurried to tell a story to distract her. Besides, this place has stories to tell.It was on the shores of little Loch Ard that Robert Lowe lived through the major events of his life.There rose calcareous rocks of eerie appearance, mingled with gravel hardened by time and the atmosphere as cement.A few dilapidated thatched huts, like dens--"Blouch" they called them--dwelt in the middle of the abandoned sheep sheds.It is almost possible to ask whether this is inhabited by humans or by beasts.Several children, their hair bleached from the weather, stared in amazement at the passing vehicles. "That is," said James Starr, "what one might more specifically call Robert Lowe's domain. Here, the excellent Lord Chancellor, Nicholas Jarvie, is worthy of his father, the Sixth Cultivator. God's son, was captured by the Lord Lenox's army. In this very place, he was hanged with the bottom cloth of his trousers, which was fortunately made of good Scotch tweed instead of the light French ones. Feather-shape! Not far from the source of the Worth, from which the rapids of Ben-Sweet Dream feed it, and where the hero wades to escape the Duke of Montrose's soldiers is seen. Ah! If He knew the shadowy hiding-places in our coal mines, and he would have escaped all pursuit! Know, my friends, that at every step in this marvelous place, so many called These reminiscences of the past, from which Walter Scotus drew his inspiration when he transcribed the levies of the Mark Gregor clan into magnificent stanzas!" "That's all very well said, Mr. Starr," retorted Jack Ryan, "but if Nicola Javi was really hanged with the bottom of his trousers, our proverb 'never How about the cruelest man who can get his trousers from a Scotsman?" "No doubt, Jack, you are right," replied James Starr, laughing, "and it is simply proved that our Lord Chancellor did not dress in the manner of his ancestors that day!" "He's talking nonsense, Mr. Starr!" "I disagree, Jack!" After climbing the steep shore near the rapids, the set car descended into a valley where there was neither tree nor water, but a barren cover of a kind of heath.In some places, several pyramid-shaped stone piles rise. "Those are Celtic cairns," said James Starr, "and every passer-by had to place a stone on them in honor of the heroes who lay in these tombs. The Gaelic motto was born: "Whoever passes through a Celtic stone house without putting a 'last tribute stone' will suffer misfortune!" If the children maintain this belief of the parents, these stones Heaps would be hills now. In fact, in this place, all people are devoted to developing this poem that was naturally conceived in the hearts of mountain people! All mountains are like this. Imagine being there by those wonders Excessively exciting, but if the Greeks live in a plain, they can't invent ancient myths!" While these words and many others were being said, the car drove into the defiles of a narrow valley, a valley well suited for the play of ghosts familiar to the great Meg Merrily.The little lake of Akritus was left on the left, and a steep road appeared, which led to the inn at Strnacilaka on the shore of Lake Katrin. There, at the head of a jetty of a slender barrier, rocked a small steamer, of course, the Labor Lowe.The travelers got on board immediately, and the ship was about to sail. Catlin Lake is only ten miles long and never more than two miles wide.The frontmost hills along the lake still stamped something of great character. "That's the lake," exclaimed James Starr, "which is quite accurately compared to a long needle! It is asserted that the lake does not freeze. I know nothing about it, but it must not be forgotten that , it was used as the stage for the exploits of 'The Lady of the Lake.' I believe that if our friend Jack looked carefully, he would see the lithe shadow of fair Elena Douglas still gliding across the lake!" "Of course, Mr. Speer," replied Jack Ryan, "why should I never see her? Why can't this pretty woman be on the waters of Lake Catlin like the goblins in the coal mines in Muller?" be seen like that on the waters of Lake Tume?" Just then, the clear sound of bagpipes sounded from the stern of the Robert Lowe. There, a highlander in national costume is tuning on the bassoon of his bagpipe, the thickest one sounds "SO", the second "Si", and the smallest one is the eighth note of the original class.As for the bassoon with 8 holes, he gave the "SO" scale a major third, in which "fa" is a natural sound. The Highlander's Refrain is a simple, soft and earthy song.It may be considered, indeed, that the melody of those peoples was not composed by anyone, but a natural blend of the breeze, the murmur of the water, and the rustle of the leaves.The form of the refrain, which returns regularly to intervals, is odd.Its sentences consist of three-meter sections with two pauses, and end with one-meter section with three pauses, on weak pauses.Contrary to the songs of the old days, this song is of great intervals, and it can be written in a number language not for notes but for intervals as follows: 5 │ 1. 2 │ 3 5 2 5 │ 1. 7 6 5 │ 2 2. 2 2 . . . │ 1. 2 │ 3 5 2 5 │ 1. 7 6 5 │ 1 1. 1 1 . . . One person was really happy at the moment, and that was Jack Ryan.He can sing the song of the Scottish lake.So, to the accompaniment of the Highlander on his bagpipes, he sang in his sonorous voice the hymn that perpetuates the old Caledonian legend: The beautiful lake where the waves sleep, keep forever your moving legend, Beautiful Scottish loch! footprints found beside you From such a deplored hero, These descendants of noble blood, Our Walter sang for you! it's tricks or wizards Prepare their meager meals; There, the vast heather fields, Back Fincal's Shadow. pass here in the dark night The crazy dance of goblins. There, ominously, appeared in the shadows The faces of the old Puritans! And among the hideous cliffs, At night, I can still hear Waverly, he, to your lakeside, Pull Flora Marc Ivor! Mrs. Lake is undoubtedly coming rode there on her horse, And Diana, not far away, listens Robert Lowe's horn sounded! Not so long ago people didn't hear Fergus among his clan, For the bagpipe variations of his war, Awakened the echoes of the Highlands. So far from you, poetic lake, led by fate, ravines, crags, ancient caves, Our eyes will not forget you! O phantoms that fade prematurely, Can you come back to us! Salute you, ancient Caledonia! Hats off to you, all our memories! The beautiful lake where the waves sleep, keep forever your moving legend, Beautiful Scottish loch! It is already 3 o'clock in the afternoon.The west shore of Catlin Lake, which seemed to be a little smoother, now stands out clearly against the double background of Ben Ann and Ben Fanyu.Half a mile away the narrow anchorage was revealed, at the innermost point of which the Robert Lowe was to disembark the tourists on their way to Stirling via Callander. Nell seemed worn out by the constant mental tension.Whenever a new object of astonishment came into her sight, only one word came from her lips: "My God! My God!" She would have rested for hours if it hadn't been for so many The memory of the spectacle is more consistently firmly remembered. Then Harry took her hand again.He looked at the girl affectionately and said to her: "Nel. My dear Nell, soon we shall be back in our dark realm! Don't you regret at all what you have seen in the full light of day during those few hours? " "No, Harry," answered the young girl, "I shall reminisce, but it will be happiness to return to our beloved coal mines with you." "Nel," said Harry in a voice that could not contain his excitement, "would you have a holy union, before God, before all men, that united us forever? Would you let me To be your husband?" "I would, Harry," said Nell, looking at him with such pure eyes, "I would, if you thought I could make your life satisfying..." Nell hadn't finished the sentence, in which she summed up the whole of Harry's future she had to say, when an inexplicable thing happened. Although still half a mile from shore, the Robert Lowe felt the slam.Its keel had just hit the bottom of the lake, and no amount of effort from its machinery could get the boat free. And this accident happened because the western part of Catlin Lake had just been emptied almost suddenly, as if a vast opening had been opened in the bottom of the lake.Within seconds, the lake is dry, like a coastal strip after a spring or autumn equinox.Almost all of its lake water has escaped through the depths of the earth. "Friends," cried James Starr, as if the cause of the incident had suddenly dawned on him, "God bless New-Aberfoyle!"