[Illustration:  INVERGARRY CASTLE.]

Leaving this memorial of “ample and summary vengeance,” we crossed the Loggan Bridge and gained the opposite bank of the Caledonian Canal.  The country we now passed through was very lonely and mountainous, and in one place we came to a large plantation of hazel loaded with nuts.  We reflected that there were scarcely any inhabitants to eat them, as the persons we met did not average more than a dozen in twenty miles, and on one occasion only six all told; so we turned into nut-gatherers ourselves, spurred on by the fact that we had had no breakfast and our appetites were becoming sharpened, with small prospect of being appeased in that lonely neighbourhood.

A little farther on, however, we met a man with two dogs, who told us he was the shepherd, and, in reply to our anxious inquiry, informed us that we could get plenty to eat at his house, which we should find a little farther on the road.  This was good news, for we had walked eight miles since leaving Invergarry.  When we reached the shepherd’s house, which had formerly been an inn, we found the mistress both civil and obliging, and she did her best to provide for our hungry requirements.  The house was evidently a very old one, and we wondered what queer people had sat in that ingle-nook and what strange stories they had told there.  The fireplace was of huge dimensions; hanging above it was a single-and a double-barrelled gun, while some old crockery and ancient glass bottles adorned various parts of the kitchen—­evidently family heirlooms, which no doubt had been handed down from one generation to another—­and a very old bed reposed in the chimney corner.

The mistress provided us with a splendid breakfast, upon which we inflicted “ample and summary vengeance,” for those words were still ringing in our minds and ears and had already become by-words as we travelled along.  The “best tea-pot,” which looked as if it had not been used for ages, was brought from its hiding-place; and, amongst other good things, we were treated by way of dessert to some ripe blackberries, which the mistress called brambleberries and which she told us she had gathered herself.  It was half-past ten o’clock when we left the shepherd’s house, and shortly afterwards we had a view of the snow-covered summit of Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in Great Britain.  We had a lonely walk alongside Loch Lochy, which is ten miles in length; but in about six miles General Wade’s road, which we followed, branched off to the left.  About four miles from the junction we reached Spean Bridge, over which we crossed the river of that name, which brings along the waters of sundry lochs as well as others from the valley of Glen Roy.  This Glen forms an almost hidden paradise beloved of geologists, as along the sides of the valley are the famous “Parallel Roads” belonging to the Glacial Period.  We replenished our stock of provisions, which we had rather neglected, at Spean Bridge, and treated ourselves to another little picnic in the lonely country beyond.  It was dark before we reached Fort William, where we found comfortable lodgings at the house of Mrs. MacPherson opposite the Ben Nevis Hotel, and retired with the intention of ascending Ben Nevis the following day.