The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

730
The Highland Monthly.
THE LEGEND OF THE DARK LOCH.
NNS a' ghleann 'san robh mi og,
A' Anns a' ghleann 'san robh mi og,
B'e mo mhiann a bhi 'san am sin,
Anns 'a ghleann 'san robh mi og."
These lines sung in a low, soft, and rather sweet voice
—unmistakeably a man's—to the air of " When the kye
comes hame," were wafted to my ears on the fragrant
breath of a fine June morning, as, with fishing-rod in hand,
and a fishing-basket slung over my shoulder, I was picking
my way with difficulty among the large boulders that lie
scattered near the southern shore of Loch Veyatie, in the
west of Sutherlandshire. My first sensation on finding I
was not alone was one of disappointment, as will be under-
stood by every angler who, on proceeding to a favourite
pool, has found himself forestalled by another, even though
the latter has the same right there as he himself. Though
the words of the song were distinctly audible, the singer
himself was not in sight. About fifty yards in front of me
rose a green knoll, covered with long heather and a {^.v^
stunted willows. Thither I hastened to ascertain who the
intruder—for so I designated him, though the term was
more applicable to myself— might be. On gaining the top,
however, I could see no one, and I was wondering whether
my imagination had played me false, when again I distinctly
heard, not far away, the words :
—
" Ach an diugh tha maor is lann.
Air gach alltan agus ob ;
Cha n'eil saorsa sruth nam beanntan
Anns a' ghleann 'san robh mi og."
On looking more closely in the direction from which
the voice had proceeded, I was surprised to see an old man
seated on a mossy bank, resting his chin on the crook of a