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shore, tillTO JOHN O' GROAT'S: III 77at last the undulations ceased and theroad ran out across the level lands of Caithness.Our worst hill of all fell on the first day, sixmiles from Tongue. Borgie Brae remains withus a vivid memory of a searching test surmounted,establishing the capabilities of SIEGLINDA and theteam, setting a standard by which to judge ofother hills. It is over a mile long, without amoment of relief ;the surface isabominablysoft and gravelly, so that the wheels bit in repeatedly; and the gradientis i in n. In short,furious stages Sam and Simon plunged andstruggled, scrambled and tugged up the perilousincline, and, that nothing might be wanting, itwas our fate to meet a motor half-way up, so thatwe must pack ourselves close under the bankwith one wheel down in the mud. But we neverlooked like being beaten. On the dreary flats atthe summit we stopped to rest the steaminghorses, looking back with the eye of conquerors onthe gorge beneath. The slipper did us good serviceon the steep descent, and then we had two milesof easy going on the level at the foot of StrathNaver before facing the stiff rise to Bettyhill,where we camped in an open space above the sea.The Hotel Proprietor, who came to call in theevening, while congratulating us upon having