The glen itself, we find as we make the descent into it, is a bit of true highland scenery—the only bit, indeed, which Orkney has to show. Its rugged, lonely grandeur is unique in these islands. Heather and bracken, wild rose and honeysuckle, juniper, dwarf birch, and willow mingle in such luxuriance as to suggest a more favoured latitude. The glen of Berriedale, which opens out of the main valley to the west, is sometimes called the “Garden of Orkney,” but it is a garden of nature’s own. Hoy is for the most part of a sterner aspect, as we shall quickly find if we cross the valley and dare to attack the Ward Hill. The only risk we shall run in doing so will be that of stiff limbs for several days to come, unless, indeed, a sudden descent of cloud or mist should find us unprovided with a guide who knows the “lay of the land.” The sturdy luxuriance of the heather is likely to be our chief difficulty in the climb. Standing at last on the summit of the Ward Hill, we find ourselves at a height of 1,564 feet above the sea, on a somewhat bare and stony plateau, and not far from the highest point there is, curiously enough, an excellent spring of water. A very clear day is necessary if we are to enjoy the sight of all that this elevation commands. We shall then see the whole archipelago spread out before us as on a map—a marvellous panorama of sea and land. Even the Fair Isle shows its conical head above the north-eastern horizon. The north coast of Scotland stretches out westward to Cape Wrath, and in the blue distance to the southwards many a peak of the Northern Highlands can be distinguished. If we descend the hill on its southern slope, we shall find a short though a steep way to the next point of interest in Hoy—the Dwarfie Stone. The description of this curious relic of the industry of some unknown workman has been well given by Hugh Miller, whose name may still be read carved on its bare interior, while the legendary interest may best be gathered from Sir Walter Scott in his notes to “The Pirate.” South of the valley in which the Dwarfie Stone lies, the ground rises to a long stretch of moorland, broken only by burns and lochs, till it dips down to the fringe of low, cultivated ground round Longhope, in the parish of Walls. This part of the island, however, is too distant to be included in our day’s excursion, and may be visited direct by steamer from Stromness some other day.