There was great diversity in the faces of the circle around us:  some were as black and wild in their appearance as any American savages whatever.  One woman was as comely almost as the figure of Sappho, as we see it painted.  We asked the old woman, the mistress of the house where we had the milk, (which by the bye, Dr. Johnson told me, for I did not observe it myself, was built not of turf, but of stone,) what we should pay.  She said, what we pleased.  One of our guides asked her in Erse, if a shilling was enough.  She said, ‘yes.’  But some of the men bade her ask more[442].  This vexed me; because it shewed a desire to impose upon strangers, as they knew that even a shilling was high payment.  The woman, however, honestly persisted in her first price; so I gave her half a crown.  Thus we had one good scene of life uncommon to us.  The people were very much pleased, gave us many blessings, and said they had not had such a day since the old Laird of Macleod’s time.

Dr. Johnson was much refreshed by this repast.  He was pleased when I told him he would make a good Chief.  He said, ’Were I a chief, I would dress my servants better than myself, and knock a fellow down if he looked saucy to a Macdonald in rags:  but I would not treat men as brutes.  I would let them know why all of my clan were to have attention paid to them.  I would tell my upper servants why, and make them tell the others.’  We rode on well[443], till we came to the high mountain called the Rattakin, by which time both Dr. Johnson and the horses were a good deal fatigued.  It is a terrible steep to climb, notwithstanding the road is formed slanting along it; however, we made it out.  On the top of it we met Captain M’Leod of Balmenoch (a Dutch officer who had come from Sky) riding with his sword slung across him.  He asked, ’Is this Mr. Boswell?’ which was a proof that we were expected.  Going down the hill on the other side was no easy task.  As Dr. Johnson was a great weight, the two guides agreed that he should ride the horses alternately.  Hay’s were the two best, and the Doctor would not ride but upon one or other of them, a black or a brown.  But as Hay complained much after ascending the Rattakin, the Doctor was prevailed with to mount one of Vass’s greys.  As he rode upon it down hill, it did not go well; and he grumbled.  I walked on a little before, but was excessively entertained with the method taken to keep him in good humour.  Hay led the horse’s head, talking to Dr. Johnson as much as he could; and (having heard him, in the forenoon, express a pastoral pleasure on seeing the goats browzing) just when the Doctor was uttering his displeasure, the fellow cried, with a very Highland accent, ’See, such pretty goats!’ Then he whistled, whu! and made them jump.  Little did he conceive what Dr. Johnson was.  Here now was a common ignorant Highland clown, imagining that he could divert, as one does a child,—­Dr. Samuel Johnson! The ludicrousness, absurdity, and extraordinary contrast between what the fellow fancied, and the reality, was truly comick.