Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

68 CARAVAN DAYSqualityin the Alps.of cold that is quiteunknown in winterAfter a fine march up the valley of theShin, where the road hugs the rushing riverclose and whips about round boulders andover ridges of rock in the most sensationalmanner, we arrived at Lairg, which was tobe our base for a fortnight to come, and afterloading up larders, boxes and lockers, forwe had little idea when we might see a shopagain, camped in a wood by the road-side, a mileout of the town. It was there that we fell in withthe Tinker and his family, who occupied a littleshanty on the opposite side of the road, whenthey were not on tour. The whole of his tribecalled in the evening to see the " gorryvon," andhe himself did his best to dissuade us from ourjourney to the West." There's nothing to see at Scourie," he told me." I wouldn't goto Scourie if I was blind of halfan eye."I do not know if I have succeeded in persuadingyou to look upon Scotland, through my eyes, asdivided into four slopes to North, South, Eastand West. But perhaps a simple diagram willmake the matter clear. Reduced to these plainterms, and seen, let us suppose, from a height on