Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1Scott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1
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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