Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — CompleteScott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Complete
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
When Edward had collected his scattered recollection, he was surprised
to observe the cavern totally deserted. Having arisen and put his dress
in some order, he looked more accurately round him; but all was still
solitary. If it had not been for the decayed brands of the fire, now
sunk into grey ashes, and the remnants of the festival, consisting of
bones half burnt and half gnawed, and an empty keg or two, there
remained no traces of Donald and his band. When Waverley sallied forth
to the entrance of the cave, he perceived that the point of rock, on
which remained the marks of last night's beacon, was accessible by a
small path, either natural or roughly hewn in the rock, along the
little inlet of water which ran a few yards up into the cavern, where,
as in a wetdock, the skiff which brought him there the night before was
still lying moored. When he reached the small projecting platform on
which the beacon had been established, he would have believed his
further progress by land impossible, only that it was scarce probable
but what the inhabitants of the cavern had some mode of issuing from it
otherwise than by the lake. Accordingly, he soon observed three or four
shelving steps, or ledges of rock, at the very extremity of the little
platform; and, making use of them as a staircase, he clambered by their
means around the projecting shoulder of the crag on which the cavern
opened, and, descending with some difficulty on the other side, he
gained the wild and precipitous shores of a Highland loch, about four
miles in length and a mile and a half across, surrounded by heathy and
savage mountains, on the crests of which the morning mist was still
sleeping.
Looking back to the place from which he came, he could not help
admiring the address which had adopted a retreat of such seclusion and
secrecy. The rock, round the shoulder of which he had turned by a few
imperceptible notches, that barely afforded place for the foot, seemed,
in looking back upon it, a huge precipice, which barred all further
passage by the shores of the lake in that direction. There could be no
possibility, the breadth of the lake considered, of descrying the
entrance of the narrow and low-browed cave from the other side; so
that, unless the retreat had been sought for with boats, or disclosed
by treachery, it might be a safe and secret residence to its garrison
as long as they were supplied with provisions. Having satisfied his
curiosity in these particulars, Waverley looked around for Evan Dhu and
his attendants, who, he rightly judged, would be at no great distance,
whatever might have become of Donald Bean Lean and his party, whose
mode of life was, of course, liable to sudden migrations of abode.
Accordingly, at the distance of about half a mile, he beheld a
Highlander (Evan apparently) angling in the lake, with another
attending him, whom, from the weapon which he shouldered, he recognised
for his friend with the battle-axe.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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