rock fastnesses in which he took shelter.

We passed along these coasts a continual succession of caves and wild
rocks, presenting the appearance of ruined castles, Gothic arches,
buttresses, towers, and gateways; others again having a curious
resemblance to faces, profiles, even ships under sail.

Passing the Point of Sleat, at the southern end of Skye, we sailed up
the wild and grand Loch Scavaig. Rising up abruptly from the water are
rugged mountains of a dark and gloomy aspect,--the bare rocks alone are
seen without a particle of vegetation. Their metallic appearance arises
from their being composed of a mineral called hypersthene. On either
side rose sharp peaks, one called the Shouting Mountain, another the
Notched Peak; while a small island at the foot of another height, called
the Hill of Dispute, goes by the name of the Island of the
Slippery-Step. From its appearance no one would wish to land there.
Not a tree was to be seen.

"The essence of savagedom!" cried Uncle Tom.

"Well, grand; yes, very grand!" exclaimed Oliver; "but I'd rather not
live here."

"I shouldn't like to be on shore there during an earthquake!" cried
Dick. "A fellow would chance to have his head broken if those mountains
should begin to tumble about."

An artist who came here is said to have thrown away his pencil in
despair; but it is still more difficult to give a description of the
place in words. Having selected a spot for anchoring, with the help of
a fisherman who acted as our pilot, we pulled on shore, and making our
way over about four hundred yards of rock by the side of a small stream,
we reached the dark fresh water Loch Coruisk, round which rose a circle
of gigantic barren mountains of purple hue. On this side the sun was
shining brightly, lighting up the pointed crags, while the other was
thrown into the deepest shade.

"I shouldn't like to find myself here in the evening, without knowing my
way out!" exclaimed Dick. "I wonder how the clouds manage to get over
those tall peaks."

Dick might have wondered, for several of them are nearly three thousand
feet in height; and on the topmost, called the Black Peak, probably no
human foot has ever trod.

"Just give a shout, sir," said the fisherman, who, having been on board
a man-of-war in his youth, spoke English. As he uttered the words he
gave a loud hail, the echo coming back with wonderful distinctness. We
all followed his example, and it seemed as if a tho