Steering south from Oban, we passed some rocky isles, one of which is called, from its shape, the Dutchman’s Cap. When in front of Fingal’s Cave, we are awed by its imposing entrance which is formed by a series of basaltic columns from twenty to forty feet high, which sustain an arch sixty feet above the sea. We land in a boat amid the fuming waves and climb into the cave, which for a distance of about two hundred feet has a sort of rather rough natural sidewalk made of fallen columns. The waves beneath us are continually surging and the thunderous echoes resound continually. The island, of volcanic origin, is nothing more or less than the fragment of an ancient stream of lava. In Fingal’s Cave there is first a basement of tufa, from which rise colonnades of basalt in pillars which form the walls and faces of the grotto, the roof of which consists of amorphous basalt. Fingal’s Cave was first noted and described by Sir Joseph Banks in 1773. The grotto is two hundred and twenty-seven feet long, forty-two feet wide, and sixty-six feet high. But the height of the pillars is irregular, being thirty-six feet on one side and but eighteen on the other. Its waters are the haunts of seals and of sea-birds. Happily for us, instead of seeing nothing but the sombre gray, in an atmosphere of fog or cloud, or storm-tossed waves, which on occasions do not allow passengers to disembark, the bursts of sunlight made unique beauty, both in atmospheric conditions and in an exquisite play of colors. The basalt appeared to combine every tint of warm red, brown, and rich maroon, while the seaweed and lichen of green and gold seemed like the upholstery of a palace. Through the percolation of the limestone water, the walls were in places of a snow-white tint. Looking upward we could see yellow, crimson, and white stalactites. When we examined the columns they appeared to possess a regularity so perfect as to suggest the work of a Greek sculptor rather than the play of Nature’s forces in her moods of agony. The Gaelic form of the name is taken from the murmuring of the sea, meaning the “Cave of Music.” In times of storm the compressed air rushes out producing a sound as of thunder. “Fingal” is the name of the hero in the poems of Ossian, which are based on the ancient traditions of the Gaelic people of Scotland and Ireland, still known and told among the people, so many of whom in the outer islands use this ancient tongue. The Finn in these old stories was the Rig or King of the Fenians of Leinster, Ireland, who lived at a “du” or fort in the County of Kildare, and who was killed on the Boyne by a fisherman, A.D. 283. As for the name “Fingal,” it is thought to mean a “fair foreigner,” or Norwegian; the word “Dubgal,” meaning a “dark foreigner” or invader; the blond pirates or intruders being the Norwegians and the swarthy ones coming from Denmark. Both varieties of these unscientific marauders ravaged Ireland in the ninth century.