The people at the farm had come there from South Wales and did not know much about the country.  All the information they could give us was that the place we had arrived at was named Braemore, and that on the other side of the hills, which they had never crossed themselves, there was a forest with no roads through it, and if we got there, we should have to make our way as best we could across the moors to Helmsdale.  They showed us the best way to reach the foot of the mountain, but we found the going much worse than we anticipated, since the storm had now developed into one of great magnitude.  Fortunately the wind was behind us, but the higher we ascended the stronger it became, and it fairly took our breath away even when we turned our heads towards it sideways, which made us realise how impossible it was for us to turn back, however much we might wish to do so; consequently we struggled onwards, occasionally taking advantage of the shelter of some projecting rock to recover our breathing—­a very necessary proceeding, for as we approached the summit the rain became more like sleet, the wind was very cold, and the rocks were in a frozen and slippery condition.  We were in great danger of being blown over and losing our lives, and as we could no longer walk upright in safety, we knelt down, not without a prayer to heaven as we continued on our way.  Thus we crawled along upon our hands and knees over the smooth wind-swept summit of the Maiden’s Paps, now one immense surface of ice.  The last bit was the worst of all, for here the raging elements struck us with full and uninterrupted force.  We crossed this inches at a time, lying flat on the smooth rock with our faces downwards.  Our feelings of thankfulness to the Almighty may be imagined when we finally reached the other side in safety.

Given a fine day we should have had a glorious view from this point, and, as it was, in spite of the rain we could see a long distance, but the prospect was far from encouraging.  A great black rock, higher than that we had climbed, stood before us, with its summit hidden in the clouds, and a wide expanse of hills and moors, but not a house or tree so far as the eye could reach.  This rather surprised us, as we expected the forest region to be covered with trees which would afford us some shelter on our farther way.  We learned afterwards that the “forest” was but a name, the trees having disappeared ages ago from most of these forests in the northern regions of Scotland.

We were wet through to the skin and shivering with cold as we began to descend the other side of the Maiden’s Paps—­a descent we found both difficult and dangerous.  It looked an awful place below us—­a wild amphitheatre of dreary hills and moors!