Chapter 21

           EarlyasdaycomesinthebeginningofJuly,itwasstilldarkwhenwereachedourdestination,acleftintheheadofagreatmountain,withawaterrunningthroughthemidst,andupontheonehandashallowcaveinarock.Birchesgrewthereinathin,prettywood,whichalittlefartheronwaschangedintoawoodofpines.Theburnwasfulloftrout;thewoodofcushat-doves;ontheopensideofthemountainbeyond,whaupswouldbealwayswhistling,andcuckooswereplentiful.FromthemouthofthecleftwelookeddownuponapartofMamore,andonthesea-lochthatdividesthatcountryfromAppin;andthisfromsogreataheightasmadeitmycontinualwonderandpleasuretositandbeholdthem.

           ThenameofthecleftwastheHeughofCorrynakiegh;andalthoughfromitsheightandbeingsonearuponthesea,itwasoftenbesetwithclouds,yetitwasonthewholeapleasantplace,andthefivedayswelivedinitwenthappily.

           Wesleptinthecave,makingourbedofheatherbusheswhichwecutforthatpurpose,andcoveringourselveswithAlan’sgreat-coat.Therewasalowconcealedplace,inaturningoftheglen,whereweweresoboldastomakefire:sothatwecouldwarmourselveswhenthecloudssetin,andcookhotporridge,andgrillthelittletroutsthatwecaughtwithourhandsunderthestonesandoverhangingbanksoftheburn.