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of this savage nature, and in glutting her eyes on the ghastly countenances silent before her in death. But at last the better part of her nature asserts itself, and she begins to think on their widows, and her sympathy with them grew stronger than the fierce joy of revenge. In subdued tones she now said to Commal, "Connal, tell me how the women feel in Innisfail, now that Cuchullin is dead; do they sorely mourn, now that like me themselves have grief. Lay me in my grave. . . Let my lips touch Cuchullin's lips in death. No vengeance can me satisfy." Amid these black storms of violence and vengeance it touches our humanity to see through a rift in the dark driving clouds, a heart, itself stricken as with death, capable of forgetting itself, if but for a moment, in sympathy with the grief even of those whom circumstances made to be hated with a bitter hatred.

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Ah! ma soeur, j'ai vu si souvent,
A l'heure morne où la nuit tombe,
Mes rêves dispersés au vent

Comme des plumes de colombe.
The sunset-stain forsakes the hill,
And in this little bay below
The purposeless dim ripples flow
And whisper to the shore at will,

With low disconsolate iterance.

The moon-shot aspens scarcely stir,

And no breath shakes from out their trance

The ruby-dusted tops of fir;

But, where the brook runs on to spill

Its waters round the little mill,

I hear a fitful moan, like sound
Of waves on some conjectured shore
Heard by sea-folk who lift the oar
And listen through the night around,
While over many a restless mile
Silver and shadow hold the sea,
Do you remember still how we
Loitered beside this broken stile
(Grey breadths of moor to left and right)
Till evening left its latest light
Upon your cheek, and the wind blew
Some twilight tune and slowly drew
A trail of mist across the lake,
Dulling its silver, flake by flake?
This light is sad with thought-taking
Of all the winter-time will bring,
And faintly down the darkened shore
The ripples sadden more and more.

W. A. SIM.

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THE Glen of Coileach in Glasleitir, Strathglass, used to be considered one of the best sporting glens in Scotland. As such, some of the flower of the Highland proprietors and gentry resorted to it for deer stalking and sporting. This, the most exciting of Highland sports, is not always attended without danger. For instance-A hunter, eager for a shot, was cautiously crawling and peeping through the hollows and hillocks of Cuileagan it Stron-phris, a celebrated haunt of red deer-nearly opposite Coileach, on the north side of Glasleitir. Imagine the terror of the creeping man on observing a large stag roaring and running towards him. The hunter got up and ran with all possible speed, and succeeded in reaching the foot of a very large stone, on the top of which he threw his gun and hastily scrambled after it. Scarcely had he cleared the ground when his huge antlered pursuer was at the foot of the stone roaring round it, his large horns bent back to his hips, and his mouth wide open. The hunter seized his gun and shot the brute straight down his throat instantly killing him, saying "You will stay there for awhile and I will stay here and load my gun, lest some of your friends might wish to revenge your death," At a certain season of the year these animals are most dangerous. An old woman, Rebecca Macrae, herding cattle for my father and grandfather close to this very stone, found two large stags, both dead, the antlers of each through the body of the other. A farmer's wife of my acquaintance, now living in Strathglass, having occasion to see some of her cattle about dusk, took a light to the byre. Suddenly she heard a tremendous roar not far from her. She took up the candle and rushed back to the house, and had scarcely time to shut the door when an antlered monster appeared at the window. She hastily put out the lights, when the huge brute took his departure towards the hills.

1 said that many youths of the best Highland families resorted to Coileach for sport, but that it was not always unattended by danger, Here is proof:

Sealg Choilich a rinn mo leon,

Tha 'n Ruidhe-greadhnach fein a guil,

Mac na-h' eilde bho na bheinn

Dh-fhag oighre Chillduinn gun fhuil.

The blood of the heir of Kildun was here shed by a stag. There is a high mountain called Beinn-Fhionnla, not far from Ruidhe-greadhnach, where probably the heir of Kildun was killed. The poet supposes that the very field, formerly called the "Field of Joy," on which they had their tents, weeps. The family of Kildun at one time possessed part of Lochalsh. There is a Kildun in the Island of Lewis, and another near Brahan. The latter was probably the property of the heir killed in Coileach. If I mistake not, there is an ancient title for Kildun, which was at one time disputed between the Seaforths and the Dingwalls of Kildun, and which I think is still in abeyance.

There is on old tradition to the effect that Fionnla-dubh-nam-fiadh was residing in Glasleitir before the laird of Gairloch sold it to the Chis

holm. This Fionnla-dubh was very jealous of any one killing deer in Glasleitir. In his peregrinations through Coileach he on one occasion espied a man in Coireag Fhionnla, on the east side of Coileach, as if stalking deer. Fionnla dubh, and a companion of his, distinguished from his neighbours by the sobriquet of the "Tachairean," made all haste towards the stalker, and came on him unawares. The unfortunate man was busily employed at the time disembowelling a stag in an out-of-the-way crevice on the west shoulder of Mamsoul, called "Na Leabanan-faileachd," or Hiding-beds. According to tradition, it was here that "Mac-an-airaichdhuibh" was caught 66 ann an curach feidh," by the barbarous Fionuladubh and his cruel accomplice, the "Tachairean," and there and then murdered for the heinous crime of killing a stage! No sooner was the horrible deed accomplished, than the fear of detection seized on the cowardly assassins. To conceal their crime, they carried the body across the ridge above them and hurled it down the face of the perpendicular rocks and precipices overhanging the Lochan-uaine, ie., the green lake behind Mamsoul. They then walked to the house of the murdered man, who at the time staid with his wife and children on the Chisholm's property in Glen-Affaric. The unfortunate woman, little suspecting the diabolical deed committed by her guests, began in all haste to prepare food for them. While thus busily engaged, Fionnla-dubh amused himself with the children, while the "Tachairean" stretched himself on a bed of rushes behind a block of wood, called in the vernacular, "Leabaidhchul-beinge, took a pair of Jewish harps out of his pocket, and composed and played the tune of which the words are as follows:

Bhean-an-tigh lion an gogan,
Lion an gogan, lion an gogan,
Bhean-an-tigh lion an gogan,
'S gheibh thu do dhiol paidhidh.

Mac an airich dhuibh na laidhe,

Dhuibh na laidhe, dhuibh na laidhe,
Mac an airich dhuibh na laidhe,
An lochan dubh a bhraighe.

Imagine anything to equal in callous audacity the inhuman proceedings of the assassins-serenading the wife and children of their victim, while their clothes were still saturated with his blood. Having regaled themselves at their victim's expense, by partaking of the food provided by him while in life, they went their way, but suspicion afterwards fell upon them, yet nothing could be proved against them, until some time after the body was discovered in the Lochan-uaine. This discovery was facilitated by the widow's recollection of the air played by the "Tachairean" on his Jewish harps. On finding the body, they sang a plaintive lament, beginning thus:

'S diumbach mi de' n Tachairean,

'S do dh-Fhionnla-dubh-nam-fiadh,
'Dh-fhag mo shaibhlean gun tubhadh,

'S mo chlann bheag gun bhiadh,

Chuir iad fear-mo-thighe san toll dhomhainn

Lochan dubh air nach eirich grian.

It is said that the sun never shines on the Lochan uaine, an idea which seems to have been well known to the widow. This is the tradition as I heard it from boyhood. I may, however, quote the account given from an old

MS. in Mackenzie's History of the Mackenzies, that the reader may compare it with the current tradition in Strathglass :-"The first outbreak between the Glengarry Macdonalds and the Mackenzies originated thus. One Duncan Mac Ian Uidhir Mhic Dhonnachaidh, known as 'a very honest gentleman,' who, in his early days, lived under Glengarry, and was a very good deerstalker and an excellent shot, often resorted to the forest of Glasletter, then the property of the Mackenzies of Gairloch, where he killed many of the deer. Some time afterwards Duncan was, in consequence of certain troubles in his own country, obliged to leave it, and he, with all his family and goods, took up his quarters in Glen-Affrick, close to the forest. Soon after he went, accompanied by a friend, to the nearest hill, and commenced his favourite pursuit of deerstalking. Mackenzie's forester perceiving him, and knowing him as an old poacher, cautiously walked up to him, came upon him unawares, and demanded that he should at once surrender himself and his arms. Duncan, finding that Gairloch's forester was accompanied by only one gillie, thought it an irrecoverable affront that he and his man should so yield, and refused to do so on any terms, whereupon the forester being ill-set, and remembering former abuses in their passages, he and his companion instantly killed the poachers, and buried them in the hill. Fionnla Dubh Mac Dhomhnuill Mhoir, and Donald Mac Ian Leith, a native of Gairloch, were suspected of the crime, but it was never proved against them, though they were both repeatedly put on their trial by the Barons of Kintail and Gairloch."

It will be seen that the most serious retribution soon followed the murder so secretly committed in Coileach. The author of this valuable work attributes the fierce wars which had taken place between the Mackenzies and the Macdonnells of Glengarry to this murder, and primarily from killing a stag in the Leabanan-faileachd. For full accounts of the sanguinary wars between these two powerful families, see the work already quoted, pp. 122 to 127 and 140 to 165.

Some years ago I remember reading that the first feud which broke out between the Macdonalds of Glencoe and the Campbells of Breadalbane originated from a party of the latter seizing one or two of the Macdonalds deer-stalking on their grounds, and to mark their displeasure they cut off the ears of the two Macdonalds. From that day forth there were endless feuds and fights between the two clans. Here we have two of the most disastrous and lasting feuds that ever disgraced the annals of Scotland— the origin of which is traced to deer-killing.

But to return to Clann Ian Idhir. The tradition in Strathglass relative to this family is that a chief of Glengarry had two sons, each of whom was called John. To distinguish them from each other, the senior was called Ian-dubh, and the junior Ian-Odhar. It is said that the former remained in Glengarry, and his descendants were called "Teaghlach an t-Sithean;" the family of Sithean, a farm in Laggan, Glengarry. The latter went to Lochcarron, where he and his family flourished so well that it used to be said-" Attadale 's Achantee, da Bhaile Clann-IanIdhir." The first of the name who settled in Strathglass came across the hills from Lochcarron and settled in Carri, Glencannich. His descendants became so numerous and so respected, that the Chisholm appointed them his Leine-chrios, or body guard, and for centuries one of the family was

standard-bearer for the Chisholm. On one unfortunate occasion only do we hear of any other than a Mac-Ian-Idhir being honoured with that office on the fatal field of Culloden. About fifty-five years ago, the last lineal descendant (Ruari-Mac-Dhonuil, i.e., Rory MacDonell) of the hereditary banner-bearers to the Chisholm emigrated to Upper Canada. He was then an old man, had no sons, and therefore it was considered right that he should nominate a worthy successor to his honourable office. I was present when Ruari Mac Dhonuil, known as Ruari Mac Ian Idhir, constituted as his successor his own namesake and nearest relation, Christopher Mac Donell, now residing at Techuig, as standard-bearer to the Chisholm.

(To be Continued.)

ADIEU LOVED FRIENDS OF ATHOL BANK.

August 1880.

-0

Adieu! loved friends of Athol Bank,

I leave you with an aching breast;

In your warm hearts mine found a home,
A cosy nook of peaceful rest.

Those joyous days in which I shared
Your wealth of hospitality;
The converse dear, the bardic lore,
Will in my mem'ry cherished be.
Ofttimes the theme-
-our native land-
Its bards, and chiefs, and heroes bold,
Its battlefields where fought our sires
And freedom won in days of old;
Our own Breadalbane's stately Bens,
Its corries, glens, and ruins gray,
The classic scenes that border round
The Dochart, Fraochie, and the Tay.
Beloved patriarch, and revered!

With sprightly step and sunny smile,
The "Good Part" thou hast choosen well-
Leal Scot in thee there is no guile.
And thou, my trusty bosom friend!
Aye may thy verse new honours win,
Thine every line is chaste and pure,

Dear Bard of Kenmore and Killin!
Thou too, our beauteous, ripening rose,
With lovely eyes of warmest brown,
Of face so faultless and so fair,

On whose calm brow ne'er rests a frown-

Oh! winsome lassie! faithful, kind,

May happiness on thee descend,

And all that sweetens and endears

Through life and till thy journey's end!
Though sundered far our lines may be,
I'll with delight recall each day
Your friendships charming and sincere,
To cheer me when I'm far away.
Heaven bless you and those kindred hearts
Who so enriched with kindness true,
My gladsome ceilidh, cherished dear,
To you and them a warm adieu !

DUNCAN MACGREGOR CRERAR.

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