These generals I had verified to me by such of them as did see, and were esteemed honest and sober by all the neighbourhood; for I inquired after such for my information.  And because there were more of these seers in the isles of Lewis, Harris, and Uist than in any other place, I did entreat Sir James M’Donald (who is now dead), Sir Normand M’Loud, and Mr. Daniel Morison, a very honest person (who are still alive), to make inquiry in this uncouth sight, and to acquaint me therewith; which they did, and all found an agreement in these generals, and informed me of many instances confirming what they said.  But though men of discretion and honour, being but at second-hand, I will choose rather to put myself than my friends on the hazard of being laughed at for incredible relations.

I was once travelling in the Highlands, and a good number of servants with me, as is usual there; and one of them, going a little before me, entering into a house where I was to stay all night, and going hastily to the door, he suddenly slipped back with a screech, and did fall by a stone, which hit his foot.  I asked what the matter was, for he seemed to be very much frighted.  He told me very seriously that I should not lodge in that house, because shortly a dead coffin would be carried out of it, for many were carrying of it when he was heard cry.  I, neglecting his words, and staying there, he said to other of his servants he was sorry for it, and that surely what he saw would shortly come to pass.  Though no sick person was then there, yet the landlord, a healthy Highlander, died of an apoplectic fit before I left the house.

In the year 1653 Alexander Monro (afterwards Lieutenant-Colonel to the Earl of Dumbarton’s regiment) and I were walking in a place called Ullapool, in Loch Broom, on a little plain at the foot of a rugged hill.  There was a servant walking with a spade in the walk before us; his back was to us, and his face to the hill.  Before we came to him he let the spade fall, and looked toward the hill.  He took notice of us as we passed near by him, which made me look at him, and perceiving him to stare a little strangely I conjectured him to be a seer.  I called at him, at which he started and smiled.  “What are you doing?” said I. He answered, “I have seen a very strange thing:  an army of Englishmen, leading of horses, coming down that hill; and a number of them are coming down to the plain, and eating the barley which is growing in the field near to the hill.”  This was on the 4th May (for I noted the day), and it was four or five days before the barley was sown in the field he spoke of.  Alexander Monro asked him how he knew they were Englishmen.  He said because they were leading of horses, and had on hats and boots, which he knew no Scotchman would have there.  We took little notice of the whole story as other than a foolish vision, but wished that an English party were there, we being then at war with them, and the