en their barking hardly
disturbed the quiet of the place.

I cannot say how long this vale was; it made the larger half of a circle,
or a curve deeper than that of half a circle, before it opened again upon
the loch. It was less thoroughly cultivated and woody after the last
turning--the hills steep and lofty. We met a very tall stout man, a fine
figure, in a Highland bonnet, with a little girl, driving home their cow:
he accosted us, saying that we were late travellers, and that we had yet
four miles to go before we should reach Ballachulish--a long way,
uncertain as we were respecting our accommodations. He told us that the
vale was called the Strath of Duror, and when we said it was a pretty
place, he answered, Indeed it was, and that they lived very comfortably
there, for they had a good master, Lord Tweeddale, whose imprisonment he
lamented, speaking earnestly of his excellent qualities. At the end of
the vale we came close upon a large bay of the loch, formed by a rocky
hill, a continuation of the ridge of high hills on the left side of the
strath, making a very grand promontory, under which was a hamlet, a
cluster of huts, at the water's edge, with their little fleet of fishing
boats at anchor, and behind, among the rocks, a hundred slips of corn,
slips and patches, often no bigger than a garden such as a child, eight
years old, would make for sport: it might have been the work of a small
colony from China. There was something touching to the heart in this
appearance of scrupulous industry, and excessive labour of the soil, in a
country where hills and mountains, and even valleys, are left to the care
of nature and the pleasure of the cattle that feed among them. It was,
indeed, a very interesting place, the more so being in perfect contrast
with the few houses at the entrance of the strath--a sea hamlet, without
trees, under a naked stony mountain, yet perfectly sheltered, standing in
the middle of a large bay which half the winds that travel over the lake
can never visit. The other, a little bowery spot, with its river,
bridge, and mill, might have been a hundred miles from the sea-side.

The moon was now shining, and though it reminded us how far the evening
was advanced, we stopped for many minutes before we could resolve to go
on; we saw nothing stirring, neither men, women, nor cattle; but the
linen was still bleaching by the stony rivulet, which ran near the houses
in water-breaks and tiny cataracts