ad been dead
only about eighty years, had lived in the next farm, which belonged to
him, and there his bones were laid.' He was a famous swordsman. Having
an arm much longer than other men, he had a greater command with his
sword. As a proof of the length of his arm, they told us that he could
garter his tartan stockings below the knee without stooping, and added
a dozen different stories of single combats, which he had fought, all
in perfect good humour, merely to prove his prowess. I daresay they
had stories of this kind which would hardly have been exhausted in the
long evenings of a whole December week, Rob Roy being as famous here
as even Robin Hood was in the forest of Sherwood; _he_ also robbed
from the rich, giving to the poor, and defending them from oppression.
They tell of his confining the factor of the Duke of Montrose in one
of the islands of Loch Ketterine, after having taken his money from
him--the Duke's rents--in open day, while they were sitting at table.
He was a formidable enemy of the Duke, but being a small laird against
a greater, was overcome at last, and forced to resign all his lands on
the Braes of Loch Lomond, including the caves which we visited, on
account of the money he had taken from the Duke and could not repay."

September 12:

"Descended into Glengyle, above Loch Ketterine, and passed through Mr.
Macfarlane's grounds, that is, through the whole of the glen, where
there was now no house left but his. We stopped at his door to inquire
after the family, though with little hope of finding them at home,
having seen a large company at work in a hay-field, whom we
conjectured to be his whole household, as it proved, except a
servant-maid who answered our enquiries. We had sent the ferryman
forward from the head of the glen to bring the boat round from the
place where he left it to the other side of the lake. Passed the same
farm-house we had such good reason to remember, and went up to the
burying-ground that stood so sweetly near the water-side. The ferryman
had told us that Rob Roy's grave was there, so we could not pass on
without going up to the spot. There were several tombstones, but the
inscriptions were either worn-out or unintelligible to us, and the
place choked up with nettles and brambles. You will remember the
description I have given of the spot. I have nothing here to add,
except the following poem which i