It is a most agreeable green seat for the tired traveller, who can not only rest his limbs, but feast his eyes as he looks back on the zigzag path he has climbed, and the treeless solitude through which the waters of the Croe wriggle in serpentine links. He can also indulge in the cheap luxury of gratitude to Captain Lascelles and the men of his regiment, who, according to the inscription on the stone erected to commemorate the formation of the road, made it, immediately after the rising in 1745. The Government at that time resolved to open up the country by means of good military roads, and put the matter into the hands of General Wade, who seems to have done his work well, and to the astonishment of the natives, who are represented in after times as saying— Had you seen these roads before they were made You would lift up your hands and bless General Wade. We here came across a gamekeeper with the usual accompaniments of dog and gun. He had a dog-whistle at his buttonhole, and his pocket knife, which was a basket of tools in itself, he was using to empty and fill his pipe. Getting into conversation with him, he told us that he loved his gun as an old companion, and that he was so accustomed to the balance and hang of it that he never thought of aiming—he simply looked at the object, still or moving, threw the gun up from the hollow of his arm, and instantly pulled the trigger, staying not a moment to glance along the barrel. The hilltops to the south of us, between Loch Goil and Loch Long, have been facetiously called the Duke of Argyll’s Bowling Green, either in irony or, more probably, as a delicate compliment to his lordship. All Western Scotsmen have a high opinion of the greatness of the Macallum More, and it may be that those who first applied the name meant to intimate by it that so powerful is the Duke, that what to ordinary mortals are stupendous hills are to him a mere “bowling green.”