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else the laughter and the music aboard of it drowns Olaf's voice, which blends and dies away with the surrounding echoes. His comrades have lowered their sails, and pull their oars lustily to gain upon the maiden's boat, and still the jest goes round; but Olaf does not heed it: his whole attention seems fastened upon that cloud, and that treasure-freighted boat which still skims those waters like a spirit of liv. ing beauty. It may be but the fears of an anxious bridegroom; but Olaf has lived upon these waters, and tossed upon them in many storm, and from bis boyhood has been schooled to see it coming, to prepare for it, and to fight it ; and his friends grow serious as they mark the anxiety depicted upon his face. A wild anxiety-and now, without a word from the foremost rower, he has seized the oars, and pulls with an energy and force that be alone is capable of.
“ Aye, there goes Olaf-none other than he could do that,” cries many a voice.
He shouts again, and vainly shouts, while the crimson blood distends his fea tures,and the veins areswollen like cords in his sinewy arms, as, with renewed ef. forts, he seeks to reach that fated boat.
A few heavy drops patter upon the water ; a low, murmuring sound, now swelling louder, gains upon the ear. Olaf has cast down his oars ; he leans from the head of the boat ; his whole strength seems gathered into one wild shout-a shout of fearful energy.
That shout is heard. Margaret has heard it, and turns to look upon him. The sailor-boys fly to furl the sail; but, oh! it is all too late. Olaf has looked his last on Margaret. He caught the last glance of her sunny eyes. From that open in the side. rocks, as from the mouth of a cannon, the storm-cloud has burst upon the waters, and burst at the moment the boat was beneath its power; the storm had fastened upon its sail, and, with the rapidity of a lightning-flash, the boat was cast upon its side, and with its inmates went down for ever from the surface of that Fiord! One short cry-a feeble and a startled cry -- from that sinking boat, and then the heavy splash, and the waters were for a moment troubled, then rippled in circling eddies around the grave of the Bride of the Fiord!
VOL. XXXII.-NO, cxc.
It went down full of life and beauty, full of joy and hope_hope that was pressing into future times, and carrying happy years. And this is life! Alas! the uncertain life-the dreamy thing of blasted wishes and drowned hopes, to which we all so fondly cling.
Olaf made no plunge into the water to seek for Margaret; the power to do so had passed away with that moment of intense mental agony. It was too much for his simple nature; he had lost the object of his life, and with the loss, reason had fled for ever.
As that boat went down, his companions raised the short, quick cry of men who are horrified. A moment's cry-a shout of terror. Is it echo ?that shrill, and rapid, but prolonged scream--that comes from yonder rock? The boatmen look at Olaf, and at each other, and speak not as they listen. Poor Olaf, he hears it not, or heeds it not; that fatuous and vacant stare of his, it hath no intelligence, no con. sciousness. And now their eyes follow in the direction of that unearthly screaming, and there, her head uncovered, her long black hair and wildskin dress floating like banners in the wind, wringing her hands with a passionate motion, stands “Una." And the boatmen are seized with a sudden awe, and marvel_“It is all her doing." And some will have it she is the wood. demon, for no Norseman ever saw the water-demon; and some recognise her as a Lapland girl, whose evil eye or wish has done it all.
How superstition wrongs our nature. Poor, hapless, broken-hearted Una. She who had prayed so con. stantly to Nipen to make Olaf and Margaret happy. She, too, who had beside her the presents, efforts of her skilful needlework, to cast to Margaret as she passed. She who had come down, for she knew the day and watched the day, with a bleeding heart, but a heart full of gratitude, to see her benefactor and his bride upon the day that was to give them joy, though it brought worse than death to her. She who would have poured out her life for that young couple, was now regarded with a fearful awe by those simple boatmen, who, in their hearts, charged her with it all. She knew it, and she durst not come down-durst not speak to them. For a few moments longer there she stood, her
scream responded to by the affrighted sea-birds it aroused from their resting. places. The ripple died away-the storm passed as rapidly as it camebut that boat or its inmates was never given back to the surface. And as the boatmen knelt in prayer around the senseless Olaf, and over the young bride's watery grare, the Fin darted up the heights, and disappeared from all eyes.
It was a strange destiny, though, to a highly.superstitious people, easily explainable, that those three true hearts should perish thus--for perish is a word as applicable to those that lived, as to her's that died. Her's bad ceased its warm palpitations, and slept beneath the ocean. One, the man's, still worked, but it urged the stream of life through the frame of a senseless idiot. And she who fled, she bad life, and she had reason still, but ber simple heart had broken. There is no literal truth in the expres. sion, “ broken heart"_but it is figu. ratively true of that state wherein grief has poured the full measure of her poison, through the blood of life, and thenceforth all life-things are shadowy, all appetite for pleasure dies, and enjoyments pall, and are painful on the senses, which, though they still exist, yet but endure life.
Years after the sad event we have described, the lunatic asylum of Chris. tiania gave refuge and protection to one, whose manly form and handsome features ill-accorded with the vacant expression of a countenance, whose dim eyes fell meaningless upon all surrounding objects. He sat upon a low stool, and every now and then, his closed hands, as though grasping oars, went up and down with a uniform rowing motion-and, at times, his breath came quick, and his motions became more rapid. He never spoke,
unless when spoken to—and then, the one response was given to all ques. tions, “ Hush, the storm is coming, and we must be quick, or she goes down." But, beyond this, he had no language, no mind, no thought. It would seem as if the event which drove poor reason from her citadel, effected its purpose just at the instant of time when one all-absorbing thought monopolised his whole mind. That one thought survived the wreck of intellect, but it was all that remained.
A nd the superintendent who showed that institution, shook his head feel. ingly, as he regarded him, and said: “ For years he has never spoken but those words." Beside that hopeless idiot tended a female, who, though dressed in Norwegian stuff, displayed features that seemed to have come from some other clime. Her dark hair and eyes, and sallow skin, and peculiar outline of feature, and deli. cately-moulded frame, were not of Norwegian cast. She was evidently of foreign blood. But there was in her sad and gentle kindness a something more than that of a mere servant- this was evident even in the very tones of her voice, as she occasionally sought to quiet the tiresome motions of his frame, or, as a nurse tends a child, offered him some food. Her gentleness, her sadly sympathetic manner might have been that of a sister, but there was no blood, no resembling link between them. “ She tends him," said the superintendent, « like a sister or a daughter—she followed him bere, and became a servant, without reward, in return for permission to be about him, and to feed him. She is of a bad race, no doubt-but she is all kindness to him ; and one would not expect to find such nature in a poor Fin."
A DAY IN THE HEBRIDES.
At this season of relaxation from busi. and a few pieces of cannon. The barness, pleasure trips are as eagerly racks have no great amount of accomsought for as were the mines of Elmodation, and for lack of military ocDorado in the times of Raleigh. While cupants, whose duties here must be the Highland mountains are traversed very light, the rooms are partly let by sportsmen, the lochs and glens are out to private families. swarming thick with tourists, who, Fort William has no pretensions as being shut out from the Continent for a military stronghold, although it rereasons too obvious to require expla sisted the attempt made upon it by the nation, are glad to recompense them- Highlanders in 1715; and again, in selves for their disappointment, by pe- 1746, it withstood a siege by Prince netrating the picturesque wilds of an Charles's army, which was forced to recient Caledonia. In these sequestered treat, with considerable loss. The fort, regions, foreigners are now as abundant when first built by General Monk, was as grouse, and the traveller cannot eat constructed of turf, and its erection met or sleep at a rural inn without hearing with determined resistance from some around him the jabber of unknown of the native chiefs, who regarded it as tongues. To this throng of pleasure intended to be a restraint and unwarhunting tourists, it fell to my lot, some rantable infringement upon their feudal weeks ago, to add a couple of units, privileges. Among the fiercest and including myself and a fellow-passen- most formidable of these opponents, ger. Perhaps the multitudinous read was Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiel, ers of the Dublin, will do me the of whose life a strange passage in conhonour to recollect, that last year, at nexion with this matter is recorded by this very season, I endeavoured, in the Pennant, an amusing old tourist who character of a gleaner in the Queen's visited these localities above seventy wake, to contribute a few pages for years ago. The anecdote is long, but their amusement. Having again re- worthy of abridgement, as a curious visited many of the same charming trait of the ferocious and daring manlocalities, and pushed my excursions ners of the times. farther among the famed western Cy- When Cromwell had overawed the clades of Scotland, perhaps it may not North of Scotland, in the expedition be unacceptable to them to hear the of 1652, all the Highland chieftains remainder of my topographical journal had, one after another, made their -left, like the story of Cambuscan, peace with the conqueror, except Sir « half told"-taking up the narrative Ewen. He had at first joined the at the spot where we parted—the an. Covenanters, having been brought up cient fortress that terminates the great under the auspices of the famous Marcentral glen, with its chain of lakes quis of Argyle, who was beheaded after and rivers forming the Caledonian Ca- the Restoration. But he afterwards nal.
abandoned the Presbyterians, and tenFort William is a small, dull market dered his services to the king, who town, with few traces of business about honoured him with a letter, addressed it, and little to excite or reward the tra. to “our trusty and well-beloved the veller's curiosity. The fortress, froin Laird of Lochiel," inviting him and which it takes its name, was erected in his clan “to arm themselves for relief the reign of William III., on the site of of their country and sovereign.” a former one, constructed by General Monk, then the Republican general, Monk, which was then called the Gar- left no means untried to bribe him into rison of Inverlochy. It is situated on submission. His offers were so temptthe upper extremity of Loch Linnhe, ing, that many of Lochiel's friends adwhich here makes a detour to the west. vised him to accept them; but their ward, and changes its name to Loch importunities were in vain. At length, Eil. The fortress is of a triangular Monk, finding all his proposals rejectform, defended by a ditch and a glacis, ed, determined upon constructing a
fort or garrison on the Lochy, in or. der to keep the county in awe, and the refractory chief within due bounds His troops arrived by sea, and brought with them such abundance of materials, that they erected the fort in a single day after their landing, and thus se cured themselves against the attack which the Camerons were meditating.
Camerons were meditating. Sir Ewen kept watch upon their pro ceedings from a neighbouring emi. nence, and retired into the wood of Achadallin, on the north side of Loch Eil, where he dismissed all his follow ers, excepting thirty-eight chosen men; but he had spies in and around the garrison, who informed him of all that was passing.
Five days after their arrival, the governor of the fort, Colonel Bigan, despatched three hundred of his men on board of two vessels, which were to sail westward up Lochiel, and anchor on both sides near Achadallin. The vigilant chief, being informed that the design of this expedition was to cut away his wood, and carry off his cattle-determined to make them pay dearly, if possible, for every tree and every hoof they might plunder. Concealed by the thickets, he approached close to the shore, and counted the soldiers as they landed from the ships, when he found their number exceeded one hundred and forty armed men, besides a considerable body of workmen, provided with axes and other instruments. Having ascertained the strength of the foe, Lochiel returned to hold a council of war. The older men of the clan remonstrated against so rash and hazardous an enterprise as attacking a force so very superior; but the younger were eager for the encounter. The chief himself, then in the vigour of life (he was born in 1629), and prompted by emulation of the renowned Marquis of Montrose, " who was always in his mouth," and with whom some of his men had served, insisted, in a short spirited harangue, that if his people had any regard for their king, or their chief, or any prin ciple of honour, the marauding Eng. lish should instantly be attacked; “ for, (says he), if every man kills his man, which I hope you will do, I will answer for the rest 1" This appeal could not be withstood, and his followers consented to the proposal, on condition that he and his
younger brother, Allan, should remain at a distance, until the fate of the day was decided.
Lochiel spurned the terms, so far as regarded himself, but caused his brother to be bound to a tree, and placed under the charge of a boy, in order to prevent him from mingling in the fray. The gallant youth, however, flattered or threatened his keeper to disengage him, and hastened to the conflict. The Camerons, says Pennant's narrative, being more than thirty in number, armed parıly with muskets and partly with bows, kept up their pieces and arrows till the very points and muzzles almost touched the breasts of the enemy, when the very first fire took down above thirty. They then drew their swords, and laid on with incre. dible fury. The English defended themselves with their muskets and bayonets with great bravery, but to little purpose. The skirmish continued long and obstinate. At last the English gave way, and retreated towards their ship, with their faces to the enemy, fighting with astonishing resolution. To prevent their escape Lochiel commanded two or three of his men to run before, and make a noise from behind a bush, as if there were another party of Highlanders to intercept their retreat. This stratagem took so effectively, that the fugatives stopped, and actuated by rage, madness, and despair, they renewed the combat with greater fury than ever, and wanted nothing but proper arms to make Lochiel repent of his rashness. But at last they were forced to give way, and betake themselves to their boats, the Camerons pursuing them chin-deep in the loch. Of the English, 138 were counted dead, but of the Camerons only five were killed.
In this engagement, Lochiel himself had several wonderful escapes. Dur. ing their retreat, one of the strongest and bravest of the English officers re. tired behind a bush, where he ob the infuriate chief pursuing; and seeing him quite unaccompanied, he leapt upon him, thinking to make him his prey. They met with equal fury, and the combat was long and doubtful The Englishman had by far the advani. tage in strength and size, but Lochiel exceeded him in activity and agility, and in the end succeeded in striking the sword out of his hand. Upon this
the disabled officer flew upon his antagonist with tiger-like rapidity. They closed, and wrestled, till both fell to the ground in each other's arms. The Englishman got above Lochiei, and pressed him hard; but in attempting to disengage himself, and stretching forth his neck, Lochiel, who by this time had his hands at liberty, seized him by the collar, and catching his extended throat with his teeth, he bit it quite through, and kept such a hold of his grip, that he brought the mouthful entirely away, declaring afterwards, "that this was the sweetest bite he ever had in his lifetime!" When he had disengaged himself from this antago. nist, he followed his men into the loch, to attack the ship; and observing a soldier on deck aiming his firelock at him, he plunged in the water and escaped, but so narrowly that the hair on the back part of his head was cut, and the skin a little ruffled. A second attempt was made to shoot him, when he owed his life to the devoted generosity of his foster-brother, who threw
brother, who threw himself before him (no uncommon thing in the Highlands at that time), and received the shot in his mouth and breast, nobly preferring his chief's safety to his own.
Within a few days after, Lochiel attacked another party of the garrison, who were marching into the country, within half a mile of the fort, killing a few, and capturing several prisoners. On another occasion he fell upon a large detachment of nearly five hundred men, who had come out to cut and bring in wood. Having watched their motions from a convenient spot, he attacked and routed them with great slaughter ; above a hundred were slain, on the spot, and the pursuit was con tinued to the very walls of the gar. rison. Not an officer of the English escaped, they being the only persons that made active resistance. For a long time this daring chief continued the pest and terror of the garrison, frequently cutting off small parties by stratagem or force ; but his name was held in such dread, that they soon learned to keep out of his reach. Lochiel at last consented to give in his submission to Cromwell, in 1655, and pledged his word of honour, which was held equivalent to an oath, “to live in peace.” He and his gallant clan were allowed to retain their arms, as
before the war broke out. Reparation was also made to him for the wood which the governor of Inverlochy had cut on his grounds, and to his tenants for all the losses they had sustained from the garrison. Löchiel performed the ceremony of submission in presence of the governor, which was merely laying down his arms in name of Charles II., and taking them up again in name of the States. His loyalty returned, however, after the death of Cromwell, and he continued to the last a firm supporter of the Stuarts. He fought with Viscount Dundee at Killiecrankie, and contributed not a little to the victory which the partisans of James gained on that occasion ; but when the cause became hopeless, he accepted of King William's indemnity. This singular man outlived not only all his perils and broils, but survived his own facul. ties, having reached the extraordinary age of ninety, his mind and body being so impaired that he required to be rocked in a cradle, in a state of second childhood.
The stupendous mountain of Ben Ne. vis is quite a land-mark on all sides, and is certainly the most prominent feature in the vicinity. In our contracted nomenclature, we would scarcely recognise its Gaelic name of Beinn-neamh Bhathais, which means the clouds capped hill, the mountains with its summit in the heavens. This monarch of the Scottish Alps, has been often described ; and in any account of it we might give, it is scarcely possible to avoid, or supersede, what has been said already. It lies to the eastward of Fort William, rising abruptly from the plain, to the height of 4,370 feet. The circumference at the base is supposed to exceed twenty-four miles; and as it is close to the sea, and almost completely isolated from the adjoining hills by two yawning ravines, its circuit is well defined, and none of its vast proportions are lost to the eye. This renders its appearance peculiarly imposing, and sets off its rugged and massive majesty to great advantage. The ascent must be a journey of great labour, and when the summit is gained, the noble panorama, which we had not the pleasure of beholding, is said to surpass all imagination.
But what we cannot describe from personal inspection, we may be allowed, perhaps, to supply from the