The beauty of Killarney is not without a rival, and that even "next door" to it in its very own kingdom of Kerry. Leaving behind the soft-swelling hills, deep-eyed lakes and dark mountains, we speed southward and westward to other lakes and mountains kindred to what we have already seen. It is for these lovely lands that the Gulf Stream crosses the Atlantic to kiss, that we are making over the wide-armed railway which clasps the most picturesque scenery in the country within its embrace. Starting from Killarney for Valencia, we leave the train to continue its journey northwards to Tralee, at Farranfore Junction. While changing into the carriages for the south-west coast, where "The mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another," one look round reveals the amphitheatre of hills. Westward, whither we are going, the hills above Glenbeigh point our road to where the Atlantic meets the shore. To the eastward, where the morn, in russet mantle clad, walks o'er the dew, the line of far-piercing spears, Mangerton, Torc, Glena, Toomies, and the Reeks extend. At Killorglin (twenty-four miles rail), with a wide-spanning viaduct, we cross the Laune, wending its way from the Lakes to Dingle Bay. Here the ruins of an old Knights Templar Castle remain to remind us of the historic past. For five-and-twenty miles from this place onward, the route runs over the southern shore-line of Dingle Bay. Some five miles from Killorglin, in a secluded nest of old trees beneath the mountains, lies ~Caragh Lake~. "Long, long ago, beyond the space Of twice ten hundred years; In Erin old there lived a race Taller than Roman spears." [Illustration: Fishing in Caragh River] [Illustration: _Photo, Lawrence, Dublin._ Caragh River and Lake.] [Illustration: _Photo, Lawrence, Dublin._ Southern Hotel, Caragh Lake.]