Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
a dark mass of greenish-hued water reposing like another Dead Sea in its
bosom. Around two sides of it, where there was a sufficiency of soil to
support them, grew a number of stunted pines, the heads of none of which
appeared above the superior circle; but, dipping down, added to the
darkness of the water beneath, by the shadows they flung over its
surface. At the eastern part, and where the pines in that direction
ended, there seemed to have fallen down a large portion of the
superincumbent bank, whereby there was formed a species of island, whose
nearer edge might be about ten feet from the bank from which it had been
severed.
On this insular spot, which was now accessible from the mainland by
means of two pine trunks thrown across and wattled together, lived the
extraordinary individual whose form and habits had, in the conversation
of the two speakers, been, in a partial manner, described. The small
domicile he had reared for himself was entirely composed of materials
supplied by the chasm in which it was situated, and constructed in the
rudest manner of a self-taught artist, whose object was to shield
himself from the inclemency of the weather, without any view to
comforts, which he either despised, or deemed it unsafe or improper to
indulge. It was, indeed, a mere rough shieling, with four walls,
composed of rubble stones, mixed with--what probably excited more wonder
than all the other supernatural attributes of the place, and the being
himself--a due proportion of bones, collected from the cemetery of the
family of Falconcleugh House, which had, on some disruption of the sides
of the chasm, been laid open on its western side. The roof was supported
by one or two rough trunks of pines, thrown in a slanting direction
across, and composed of small twigs and leaves, wattled and compressed
in such a manner as to save the inmate from a part, at least, of
heaven's more profuse inundations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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