In the morning we viewed the fort, which is much less than that of St.
George, and is said to be commanded by the neighbouring hills. It was
not long ago taken by the Highlanders. But its situation seems well
chosen for pleasure, if not for strength; it stands at the head of the
lake, and, by a sloop of sixty tuns, is supplied from Inverness with
great convenience.
We were now to cross the Highlands towards the western coast, and to
content ourselves with such accommodations, as a way so little frequented
could afford. The journey was not formidable, for it was but of two
days, very unequally divided, because the only house, where we could be
entertained, was not further off than a third of the way. We soon came
to a high hill, which we mounted by a military road, cut in traverses, so
that as we went upon a higher stage, we saw the baggage following us
below in a contrary direction. To make this way, the rock has been hewn
to a level with labour that might have broken the perseverance of a Roman
legion.
The country is totally denuded of its wood, but the stumps both of oaks
and firs, which are still found, shew that it has been once a forest of
large timber. I do not remember that we saw any animals, but we were
told that, in the mountains, there are stags, roebucks, goats and
rabbits.
We did not perceive that this tract was possessed by human beings, except
that once we saw a corn field, in which a lady was walking with some
gentlemen. Their house was certainly at no great distance, but so
situated that we could not descry it.
Passing on through the dreariness of solitude, we found a party of
soldiers from the fort, working on the road, under the superintendence of
a serjeant. We told them how kindly we had been treated at the garrison,
and as we were enjoying the benefit of their labours, begged leave to
shew our gratitude by a small present.