We have still another quarter of an hour’s walk before us; meanwhile, however, now that we have got on firmer ground, we sit down on a rock that feels as hot as if it could frizzle a fish, and are amply rewarded. We see the large half of Loch Long, with its villas and cottages, its patches of cultivated land, Douglas and Carrick Piers, the bare hillside of Ben Cruach, with an occasional patch of wood, and the road to St. Catherine’s, which at this elevation looks like the road between Glen Rosa and Shiskin as seen from Brodick Bay, more like a piece of “string” than anything else. When the cairn is reached we feel as if we not only deserved but could enjoy a substantial sandwich, and are thankful that this necessary proceeding need not seriously interfere with our enjoyment of the special feast for which we had come up so high. The five nearest counties—Argyll, Stirling, Perth, Dumbarton, and Renfrew—and Arran with its rugged peaks, all contribute to the view. The scenery is everywhere of the most awful, the wildest, and most extensive. The weather is at its best, and every peak, and scaur, and wrinkle are visible to the naked eye. Below us to the left, winding under Ben Lochain, Ben Bheula, and Ben Cruach, is Loch Goil, flashing back the blue sky, and holding the sun-softened lines of the great hills in its bosom. To the north-west we can see the greatest of all those lochs that do so much to adorn, and draw tourists to, the west coast of Scotland, and which even from a commercial point of view is not without its value as our “great herring pond.” We do not see it all, nor what we see of it continuously, but in two long reaches, the one near the top and the one much lower down, the one over Hell’s Glen and the other over Loch Eck. Beyond Inveraray and its conical hill of Duniquoich, and rather to the north end of it, we see in two distinct places Loch Awe, which is now getting to be as famous for a tourist route as it used to be and still is as a fishing ground. And over it Ben Cruachan lifts its majestic head 3689 feet high. In the north-east we catch a glimpse of the narrow ends of Loch Long, under the “Cobbler,” and of Loch Lomond, the biggest thing of its kind in Britain, through the neck of ground between Arrochar and Tarbet. Loch Long itself is of no small size, stretching all the way from Strone Point on to Arrochar, and running right alongside of half the length of Dumbartonshire. In the south-east we have in sight Gareloch, and the Clyde herself in a great variety of places, washing the coasts of Renfrew, Cowal, Bute, Arran, and the Big and Wee Cumbraes. But pausing, we give ourselves over to reflection.