Clifford.--In justice to your story, I must say that it is much more
interesting than the scene where it was enacted, if we may judge from
the specimen at this moment before us.
Grant.--Nay, but take the trouble to carry your eyes entirely over the
foreground, and behold the sun gleaming afar off yonder on the broad
sheet of the Moray Firth, with those bold dark headlands called the
Sutors defending the entrance of the Bay of Cromarty beyond, backed
by the blue mountains of Ross-shire and Sutherland in the distance.
Clifford.--These are indeed features that would give dignity
to any scene; but you must admit that this unmeaning flat which
stretches everywhere from under our feet is sufficiently tiresome,
notwithstanding the laudable efforts that are making to cover it
with plantations.
Author.--It is monotonous enough, to be sure; but how often do we
find inestimable worth concealed under an unpretending exterior. The
apparently dull stretch of country before you is a pregnant example
of this; for the charms of the river Findhorn that bisects it from
west to east are so buried in its bosom as to be quite overlooked
from hence. Grant will tell you, that if you were to follow the
river upwards through all the mazes of its deep and shadowy glen,
you would find that it exhibits scenery of the wildest and most
magnificent character.
Grant.--Nay, it is hardly fair to refer him to me; for although I
have a full impression of its grandeur upon my mind which will not
easily be effaced, I can give him no very accurate account of its
pools or its streams, as regards their excellence for salmon angling.
Clifford.--Pho! none of your jokes, Mr. Grant. Although I like fishing
and shooting, you know very well that I enjoy wild nature as much as
either of you.
Grant.--Ha! ha! ha! I know you do, my dear fellow.
Clifford.--And, moreover, I have so much admired the scenery, as well
as the fishing-pools of the river lower down, that if what you now
speak of equals that with which I am already so familiar, it must be
magnificent indeed.
Author.--I think that it in many respects surpasses all that you have
hitherto seen. In truth, I know no river scenery in Great Britain
at all to be compared in sublimity to that of the Findhorn about
Ferness. Indeed, it rises more into that great scale of grandeur
exhibited by some of the Swiss gorges than anything I have ever met
with at home. But you must take the first opportunity of visiting it,
Clifford. And then, in addition to the treat that nature will yield
you during your ramble, and the good fishing which you will certainly
have, I think you will be much gratified by the inspection of that
interesting relic of antiquity, The Cairn and Pillar of the Lovers,
which you will find there.
Clifford.--What! ha! ha! ha! some Pyramus and Thisbe,--some Petrarch
and Laura,--among your heroes and heroines of the pemmican, I suppose!
Author.--No, no. The lonely obelisk, and the cairn from which it
rises, may indeed have stood on the green holm of Ferness, with the
rapid Findhorn sweeping around them, for ages. They may have been
there whilst the great forests still spread themselves thickly over
the country, but you would judge wrong if you supposed them to have
co-existed with my savages of the pemmican; for there must have been
some considerable approach to civilisation amongst a people who could
have cut and transported that great mass of rough-grained sandstone,
of which the obelisk is formed, from the nearest quarries of the
same rock, some fifteen or twenty miles off, to the spot where it
has ever since stood, not to mention the beautiful hieroglyphical
carvings with which it has been ornamented.
Clifford.--Is there no legend attached to the monument?
Grant.--There is; and our friend has woven it into a little poem,
which he once repeated to me.
Clifford.--Poem! come, let's have it! You need not fear to give it
to me now, you know; for there is no birch at hand to punish you for
your false quantities.
Author.--To tell you the truth, I am quite tired of repeating the story
in prose; so, lame though my stanzas may be, I shall prefer risking
your criticism. But you must remember, that it is one thing to climb
a rugged heathery hill like this, and another thing to mount Parnassus.