approach, led right up to its mouth. This is the point from which all sneers at the cave should be religiously fired off, for when you have come, not without toil, to the foot of the supposed tongue, and discovered that it consists of over a hundred feet of sheer rock, there is apt to be a certain flabbiness in the expression of your contempt. No good cragsman will make much of Ossian's Cave, but at the same time no honest one will despise it. When Tough and I climbed into it in July, the rocks were running with moisture, and the vegetation which grows profusely upon them was like a well-watered market-garden. It was simply impossible at places to get a firm hold of the solid rock. Hands, knees, toes, and eyelids had to be awkwardly spread over a mixture of mud and vegetable, which affords a support as treacherous as it is dirty, and which no respectable mountaineer, having regard to his Norfolk, will care to depend on. There is a story in the district of a friendly tree which once grew at the mouth of the cave, by means of which early explorers, by hitching a rope round it, avoided those excesses of gymnastics, and descended with cleanliness and ease; but if it ever existed, that tree has long since disappeared, for I can find no mention of it in any of the notes in the visitors' book at Clachaig.

To the left of Ossian's Cave is a difficult climb which Collie and Hastings have done, but unfortunately their account of it in the visitors' book is a little vague. Tough and I tried to repeat it, but we had so much difficulty in finding their route, and in following it when found, that it is quite possible we were on the wrong track altogether. At all events this is what happened. We followed the usual cave route, striking up steep rocks to the left just before reaching the final pitch. Easy rock for some little distance brought us to an extremely awkward bit, where, after turning a nasty corner just above a tree growing in the cliff face, the only possible alternative was to climb diagonally across a very steep pitch, with scarcely any holds, into a shallow gully on the left. Tough almost reached this gully, but the few remaining holds were so loose and rotten that he was forced to return. The unsuccessful negotiation of this bad bit took nearly an hour

and a half, but it is right to say that the rocks were extremely wet.

To the left of the gully, where we were stopped, is a great rock buttress, which runs right up to the summit of Aonach Dubh, showing from just underneath it an imposing line of pinnacled crags. To climb on to this buttress, and follow it to the top, was now our object; but when we proceeded to make the attempt, we found that the lower rocks were everywhere inaccessible. However, by a little persistence the difficulty was turned if not surmounted. By a lucky oversight in its rocky armament, a narrow grass ledge allows the climber to make his way round the foot of the buttress, and to emerge on its steep eastern flanks. These are a sweet thing in slopes. Above, on one's right hand, the black towering crags rise steeply to the sky-line of the buttress; underneath is a horrible chasm, into which every rock that one dislodges falls with a loud booming noise. For nearly two hours we traversed this rocky bulwark, finding it always impossible to climb straight up, while there was a horrible suggestiveness about the invitation the loose rocks gave us to drop straight down. Ultimately, after many zigzags and threatened cul de sacs, an easy stone shoot opened on the right, and was thankfully followed to the summit, the recipient of more blessings than are usually reserved for that particular kind of abomination. Whether any one ever followed this precise route before I am unable to say, but it is not one that I can recommend.

Before taking leave of Aonach Dubh, I ought to mention that the climb up the craggy face, fronting Loch Triochatan, is both interesting and easy. The rope is nowhere required, and Dr Collie did it alone, to the no small astonishment and incredulity of certain residents at the foot. It is not, however, quite an orthodox climb, and may be classed under the category "Vegetable," which is Tough's latest contribution to the nomenclature of mountaineering. Trees and shrubs abound, and at one place are the climber's sole protection against the blandishments of gravity.

It is at the head of Corrie Beach, however—often erroneously spoken of as Corrie an Lochan-that some of the greatest climbs are to be had. The huge eastern pre

cipice of Bidean should afford endless scrambling, mostly easy; but exactly the opposite might be said of the two monster buttresses which form the crown of Bidean's highest peak. There the possible climbs are likely to be few in number, and probably very difficult, especially on the right hand one, which, when scaled and written up, will be one of the finest things in first ascents that this Journal has chronicled. The other is less striking, and shows several routes that will certainly "go."

Midway in the big gully between these buttresses is an interesting pinnacle, that was climbed first by Collie, Solly, and Collier in the spring of 1894. It is not difficult, but on reaching a certain point in the ascent a most sensational view is disclosed of a narrow shattered edge, ending in a crazy-looking point, which leans out over a horrid gulf. Along this the climber has to go, but it is a fraud and a delusion, for underneath it on the other side is a broad easy ledge, along which a regiment of soldiers could march.

No description, however brief, of this glorious land of rock scrambles, would be complete without mention of the cliffs of Stob Coire an Lochan at the head of Corrie Lochan. I am almost tempted to say that these cliffs are impossible. Certainly they are the sheerest and loftiest in the neighbourhood, and are worth visiting on account of the marvellous and fantastic forms into which they are cut, the narrow and fearsome gullies which seem to have been artificially chiselled out of the living rock, and the weird pinnacles that start up unexpectedly on the face of the precipice-most of them hopelessly inaccessible by legiti

mate means.

Lastly, for the enthusiast in such things, for the voracious walker whose thought is of views and prospects, nothing can excel the outlook from Bidean round the horizon of rock-bound peaks, and the many-fiorded western sea. The President could state, in the language of Bartholomew and the Ordnance Survey, how many mountains and tops are actually visible, but the view lives vaguely (though none the less pleasantly) in my memory-and vague persons shouldn't attempt descriptions.

ON BOULDERS.

BY T. FRASER S. CAMPBELL.

MANY years ago there existed in Edinburgh a little coterie of enthusiasts, who were wont to devote most of their odd holidays to the exploration of the mountain systems of their native country. This was in prehistoric times, before the conception of the Scottish Mountaineering Club had come to fruition. The ring of the ice-axe was not heard in the land, nor had the cameras of Howie, Douglas, Rennie, and Thomson stripped the mask from the face of Nature and exposed her beauties to the vulgar gaze. Munro had not tabulated the summits, and assigned to each his proper position in the hierarchy of the hills; there was no "authority on snowcraft," and the great pick or spike controversy had not threatened to eclipse the gaiety of nations. But many a merry night was passed in Highland inn, and many a stormy morning saw the "tramps" toiling through wind and snow up the spurs of Cruachan or the corries of Ben Laoigh. These days are past, but not the friendships which they fostered nor the memories which they evoked. Some of the little band have turned respectable, and have sought surcease of sorrow in the cultivation of the domestic virtues, and one has fallen asleep. But there is a big chiel in a far off land, who, I know, did not allow the responsibilities of wet nursing the infant Journal to overshadow in his mind the recollection of his adhesion to the "tramps"; while one of our vice-presidents made almost his first acquaintance with winter climbing in Scotland in their company. This was upon Ben Achallader, and it was upon this occasion that the writer first introduced his improved method of glissading upon soft snow, which has never become popular, and which upon a subsequent expedition nearly created a vacancy in the Club.

Upon some such occasion as this was the "Boulder Society" formed. This was the inspiration of a moment, and Stott joined it with enthusiasm and offered his services as secretary, which the other half gratefully accepted. Stott's secretarial duties consisted for the most

part in lying on his back in the shade with a pipe in his mouth, while the writer created "lines of cleavage" in his nether garments, and generally defied the laws of anatomy by making improbable ascents of some of the Arran boulders.

In the Badminton volume upon "Golf," Mr Horace Hutchinson alludes to the advertisement of an enterprising vendor of sporting requisites, who offers to the unwary public the "Game of Golf complete, in a box." "In a box," Mr Hutchinson adds, "is good." Now it is not my contention that one can practise the art of climbing complete-on a boulder; but I know many who have spent most pleasant hours in the pursuit of this branch of our favourite sport, which affords to the ambitious climber at least as good practice as falls to the golfer who "putts" a ball along his drawing-room carpet into a dog-collar, or essays to "loft" it into his wife's easy-chair, only to succeed in putting it through the parlour window, which I have seen.

It must be admitted that the exercise of boulder-climbing is almost purely athletic, but the training to nerve and muscle may stand the climber in good stead upon some more important occasion-and moreover it is comparatively free from danger. It is not for me to belittle the fascinating possibilities of a flight through space, but for myself I will confess that advancing years have fostered in my mind a decided preference for a short fall-and a soft one!

Upon the sides of many of our mountains, and in the adjoining valleys-but especially, so far as my own experience teaches, where there is a granite formation—there lie great blocks of stone, varying in size from a few tons to many hundreds; some bare "needles," or smooth round boulders, while others are clothed upon their tops with fern and heather, and even trees. On the side of Loch Eck there is a huge rock cleft in two, the ascent of which, after several ineffectual attempts, was at last achieved by Lester; this is covered with a heavy growth, and I have sat on its top eating blaeberries under the shadow of a rowan-tree. Glen Inveruglas there is a similar though smaller rock, which affords a most interesting climb. I remember that upon one occasion an excellent climber, the length of whose

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