times descending a broken slope
that grew more and more precipitous until it became dangerous, and then,
fearing to go farther--not knowing what lay before--they had to retrace
their steps and search for a more gradual descent. Now crossing a level
patch that raised their hopes, inclining them to believe that they had
reached the bottom of the valley; anon coming suddenly upon a steep
ascent that dashed their hopes, and induced them to suppose they had
turned in the wrong direction, and were re-ascending instead of
descending the mountain. All the time Jacky slept like a top, and
George, being a sturdy fellow, carried him without a murmur. Several
times Fred tried to make him give up his burden, but George was
inexorably obstinate. So they plodded on till nearly midnight.

"Is that a house?" said Fred, stopping short, and pointing to a dark
object just in front of them. "No, it's a lake."

"Nonsense, it's a mountain."

A few more steps, and Fred recoiled with a cry of horror. It was a
precipice full a hundred feet deep--the dark abyss of which had assumed
such varied aspects in their eyes!

A long _detour_ followed, and they reached the foot in safety. Here the
land became boggy.

Each step was an act fraught with danger, anxiety, and calculation.
Whether they should step knee-deep into a hole full of water, or trip
over a rounded mass of solid turf, was a matter of absolute uncertainty
until the step was taken.

"Oh that we had only a gleam of moonshine," said Lucy with a sigh.
Moonshine! How often had George in the course of his life talked with
levity, almost amounting to contempt, of things being "all a matter of
moonshine!" What would he not have given to have had only a tithe of
the things which surrounded him at that time converted into "moonshine!"

A feeble cheer from Fred caused an abrupt halt:--

"What is it?"

"Hallo!"

"What now?"

"The lake at last!--Our own loch! I know the shape of it well!
Hurrah!"

Everyone was overjoyed. They all gazed at it long and earnestly, and
unitedly came to the conclusion that it was the loch--probably at the
distance of a mile or so. Pushing forward with revived spirits, they
came upon the object of their hopes much sooner than had been
anticipated. In fact, it was not more than two hundred yards distant.
A wild yell of laughter mingled with despair burst from Fred as the lake
galloped away in the shape of a _white horse_! The untravelled reader