We were up and off betimes to the Steamer. Iona which carried us down the Clyde and then along the west coast of Scotland winding in and around the islands which keep off the wash of the sea. There was a crowd, and it blew hard, but we were told that this was a favorable thing, for it promised clear weather. We met on board Mr and Mrs Cardwell and Mr Law who became companions for the day. The coast and islands are very pretty. At Ardishaig we parted with some of the company but there were enough left. Here is the Crinan canal which avoids an outer passage. It is about eight or nine miles long. As the single boat dragged by horses appeared uncomfortably full, Mr Cardwell, Mr Law and I agreed to walk the distance. We had scarcely gone a mile when the boat passed us. Mr Law then suggested the idea that with three horses on a trot it might leave us behind. Mr Cardwell pleaded the delay of several lochs, but Law was incredulous. The two very soon434 took the lead of me. Then began a spectacle on the tow path of the canal which greatly amused me. The point was to over take the brat whilst at the lochs four miles from the starting. point. Mr Cardwell soon broke in a steady run. Mr Law came next on a high trot with arms going and coat pockets behind sharply agitated. Next followed I at a respectable distance at a rate of four miles the hour, and lastly came a gamekeeper with three dogs in leash, who soon fell away behind. As the land was flat and every one was distinctly visible, the scene much resembled a race ground with four competitors. As I neared the loch Mr Cardwell came back to announce the uselessness of the effort. There were five more lochs to pass which would take an hour and a half of delay. Though much used to walking now, I should not have cared to finish the task at the same rate. As it was we went on leisurely and together, arriving at the Steamer on the other side five or ten minutes in advance. Here we went for a time into more open water but the wind was not in the direction to make it rough. We passed along the Sound of Mull from Oban stopping at various points to land parties to Tourists. As we went the highlands of Glenere opened out to us, looking gloomy at the act which is associated with the name. You can scarcely move in Scotland without stumbling over the memory of a massacre or a murder. It was very dark before we got to Bannavie. Then came a scramble for the coaches and for lodgings at the Hotel. The nimbleness of my son Henry effected the last point for us, but it was a very tight fit every way.