This information rather troubled us, as we had determined to walk all the way, so he advised us to go round the “Head of the Loch”—­an expression we often heard used in Scotland—­and to make our way there across the open country; in this case the loch was Loch Leven, so we left the highway and Loch Linnhe and walked to a small farm we could see in the distance.  The mistress was the only person about, but she could only speak Gaelic, and we were all greatly amused at our efforts to make ourselves understood.  Seeing some cows grazing quite near, my brother took hold of a quart jug standing on a bench and, pointing to the cows, made her understand that we wanted a quart of milk, which she handed to us with a smile.  We could not ask her the price, so we handed her fourpence, the highest price we had known to have been paid for a quart of the best milk at home, and with which she seemed greatly pleased.

We were just leaving the premises when the farmer came up, and he fortunately could speak English.  He told us he had seen us from a distance, and had returned home, mistaking us for two men who occasionally called upon him on business.  He said we had gone “three miles wrong,” and took great pains to show us the right way.  Taking us through a fence, he pointed out in the distance a place where we should have to cross the mountains.  He also took us to a track leading off in that direction, which we were to follow, and, leaving him, we went on our way rejoicing.  But this mountain track was a very curious one, as it broke away in two or three directions and shortly disappeared.  It was unfenced on the moorland, and there were not enough people travelling that way to make a well-defined path, each appearing to have travelled as he pleased.  We tried the same method, but only to find we had gone out of the nearest way.  We crossed several small burns filled with delightfully clear water, and presently saw another house in the distance, to which we now went, finding it to be the shepherd’s house.

Here the loud and savage barking of a dog brought out the shepherd’s wife, who called the dog away from us, and the shepherd, who was having his breakfast, also made his appearance.  He directed us to a small river, which he named in Gaelic, and pointed to a place where it could easily be forded, warning us at the same time that the road over the hills was not only dangerous, but difficult to find and extremely lonely, and that the road to Glencoe was only a drovers’ road, used for driving cattle across the hills.  We made the best of our way to the place, but the stream had been swollen by the recent rains, and we experienced considerable difficulty in crossing it.  At length, after sundry walkings backwards and forwards, stepping from one large stone to another in the burn, we reached the opposite bank safely.  The only mishap, beyond getting over shoe-tops in the water, was the dropping of one of our bags in the burn; but this we were fortunate enough to recover before its contents were seriously damaged or the bag carried away by the current.