At Inversnaid, we took a boat to go down Loch Lomond, to the little
inn of Rowardennan, from which the ascent is made of Ben Lomond. We
found a day of ten thousand, for our purpose; but, unhappily, a large
party had come with the sun, and engaged all the horses, so that if we
went, it must be on foot. This was something of an enterprise for me,
as the ascent is four miles, and toward the summit quite fatiguing.
However, in the pride of newly-gained health and strength, I was
ready, and set forth with Mr. S. alone. We took no guide, and the
people of the house did not advise us to take one, as they ought.
On reaching the peak, the sight was one of beauty and grandeur such as
imagination never painted. You see around you no plain ground, but on
every side constellations, or groups of hills, exquisitely dressed in
the soft purple of the heather, amid which gleam the lakes, like eyes
that tell the secrets of the earth, and drink in those of the heavens.
Peak beyond peak caught from the shifting light all the colors of
the prism, and, on the furthest, angel companies seemed hovering in
glorious white robes.
About four o'clock we began our descent. Near the summit, the traces
of the path are not distinct, and I said to Mr. S., after a while,
that we had lost it. He said he thought that was of no consequence;
we could find our way down. I said I thought it was, as the ground was
full of springs that were bridged over in the pathway. He accordingly
went to look for it, and I stood still, because I was so tired I did
not like to waste any labor.
Soon he called to me that he had found it, and I followed in the
direction where he seemed to be. But I mistook, overshot it, and saw
him no more. In about ten minutes I became alarmed, and called him
many times. It seems, he on his side shouted also, but the brow of
some hill was between us, and we neither saw nor heard one another. I
then thought I would make the best of my way down, and I should
find him when I arrived. But, in doing so, I found the justice of my
apprehension about the springs, so soon as I got to the foot of the
hills; for I would sink up to my knees in bog, and must go up the
hills again, seeking better crossing places. Thus I lost much time.
Nevertheless, in the twilight, I saw, at last, the lake, and the inn
of Rowardennan on its shore.
Between me and it, lay, direct, a high heathery hill, which I
afterwards found is called "The Tongue," because hemmed in on three
sides by a water-course. It looked as if, could I only get to the
bottom of that, I should be on comparatively level ground. I
then attempted to descend in the water-course, but, finding that
impracticable, climbed on the hill again, and let myself down by the
heather, for it was very steep, and full of deep holes. With great
fatigue, I got to the bottom, but when I was about to cross the
water-course there, I felt afraid, it looked so deep in the dim
twilight. I got down as far as I could by the root of a tree, and
threw down a stone. It sounded very hollow, and I was afraid to jump.
The shepherds told me afterwards, if I had, I should probably have
killed myself, it was so deep, and the bed of the torrent full of
sharp stones.
I then tried to ascend the hill again, for there was no other way to
get off it; but soon sank down utterly exhausted. When able to get up
again, and look about me, it was completely dark. I saw, far below me,
a light, that looked about as big as a pin's head, that I knew to be
from the inn at Rowardennan, but heard no sound except the rush of the
waterfall, and the sighing of the night wind.
For the first few minutes after I perceived I had come to my night's
lodging, such as it was, the circumstance looked appalling. I was very
lightly clad, my feet and dress were very wet, I had only a little
shawl to throw round me, and the cold autumn wind had already come,
and the night mist was to fall on me, all fevered and exhausted as I
was. I thought I should not live through the night, or, if I did, I
must be an invalid henceforward. I could not even keep myself warm by
walking, for, now it was dark, it would be too dangerous to stir. My
only chance, however, lay in motion, and my only help in myself; and
so convinced was I of this, that I did keep in motion the whole of
that long night, imprisoned as I was on such a little perch of that
great mountain.
For about two hours, I saw the stars, and very cheery and
companionable they looked; but then the mist fell, and I saw nothing
more, except such apparitions as visited Ossian, on the hill-side,
when he went out by night, and struck the bosky shield, and called to
him the spirits of the heroes, and the white-armed maids, with their
blue eyes of grief. To me, too, came those visionary shapes. Floating
slowly and gracefully, their white robes would unfurl from the great
body of mist in which they had been engaged, and come upon me with a
kiss pervasively cold as that of death. Then the moon rose. I could
not see her, but her silver light filled the mist. Now I knew it was
two o'clock, and that, having weathered out so much of the night, I
might the rest; and the hours hardly seemed long to me more.
It may give an idea of the extent of the mountain, that, though I
called, every now and then, with all my force, in case by chance some
aid might be near, and though no less than twenty men, with their
dogs, were looking for me, I never heard a sound, except the rush of
the waterfall and the sighing of the night wind, and once or twice
the startling of the grouse in the heather. It was sublime indeed,--a
never-to-be-forgotten presentation of stern, serene realities. At last
came the signs of day,--the gradual clearing and breaking up; some
faint sounds from I know not what; the little flies, too, arose from
their bed amid the purple heather, and bit me. Truly they were very
welcome to do so. But what was my disappointment to find the mist so
thick, that I could see neither lake nor inn, nor anything to guide
me. I had to go by guess, and, as it happened, my Yankee method served
me well. I ascended the hill, crossed the torrent, in the waterfall,
first drinking some of the water, which was as good at that time as
ambrosia. I crossed in that place, because the waterfall made steps,
as it were, to the next hill. To be sure, they were covered with
water, but I was already entirely wet with the mist, so that it
did not matter. I kept on scrambling, as it happened, in the right
direction, till, about seven, some of the shepherds found me. The
moment they came, all my feverish strength departed, and they carried
me home, where my arrival relieved my friends of distress far greater
than I had undergone; for I had my grand solitude, my Ossianic
visions, and the pleasure of sustaining myself; while they had only
doubt, amounting to anguish, and a fruitless search through the night.
Entirely contrary to my forebodings, I only suffered for this a few
days, and was able to take a parting look at my prison, as I went
down the lake, with feelings of complacency. It was a majestic-looking
hill, that Tongue, with the deep ravines on either side, and the
richest robe of heather I have anywhere seen.
Mr. S. gave all the men who were looking for me a dinner in the
barn, and he and Mrs. S. ministered to them; and they talked of
Burns,--really the national writer, and known by them, apparently,
as none other is,--and of hair-breadth 'scapes by flood and fell.
Afterwards they were all brought up to see me, and it was gratifying
to note the good breeding and good feeling with which they deported
themselves. Indeed, this adventure created quite an intimate feeling
between us and the people there. I had been much pleased before,
in attending one of their dances, at the genuine independence and
politeness of their conduct. They were willing to dance their Highland
flings and strathspeys, for our amusement, and did it as naturally and
as freely as they would have offered the stranger the best chair.