CHAPTER III

BY THE ROUTE OF THE FIERY CROSS TO BALQUHIDDER

Few indeed of those who come up comfortably by rail to Callander, and step at once to a seat on a waiting four-horsed coach, adorned by a scarlet-coated driver and tootling horn, ever think of arriving a day sooner and exploring northward along the continuation of the single line which has brought them so far, or, better still, of going on northward by road through the Pass of Leny to beautiful little Strathyre for the night. Yet they miss much by not doing so, for at Balquhidder, a little beyond Strathyre, is the grave of Rob Roy and the reputed graves of his wife and son, while up the Pass of Leny itself was carried the fiery cross, so that the story of _The Lady of the Lake_ is hardly complete without a visit to it.

Few more beautiful passes are to be seen than Leny. The dashing stream which runs in a wooded cleft below the road is exactly what one expects a Scottish stream to be. The brown peat-water breaks in cascades over huge grey weather-worn stones, or lies in deep clear pools. The irregularities of its course reveal new beauties at every turn: the dripping green ferns, for ever sprinkled with the spray, hang quivering over the agate depths, and the emerald moss, saturated like a sponge, softens the sharp angles of stones. Tufts of free-growing heather, large as bushes, add colour to the scene, and the slender white stems of the birches rise gracefully amid the gnarled alders and dark-needled firs. The Falls of Leny are reached by a footpath from the road.

Angus, carrying the cross, was confronted by the stream, which divided him from the chapel of St. Bride, whose site is now marked by a small graveyard just where the water issues from Loch Lubnaig. He had to plunge in, panting and hot as he was.

He stumbled twice—the foam splashed high, With hoarser swell the stream raced by.

Then, gaining the shore, he faced the chapel entrance just as a gay crowd came forth escorting a newly-wedded pair.

In rude but glad procession came Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame; And plaided youth with jest and jeer, Which snooded maiden would not hear.

[Sidenote: The Bridegroom’s Part]

Scott does not tell us why the dripping youth selected the bridegroom out of all the crowd to carry on the brand, but doubtless there were reasons: it was possibly his right as a senior in the clan. Still, it is little wonder that the unfortunate man, who dared not refuse, yet hesitated.

Yet slow he laid his plaid aside And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride Until he saw the starting tear Speak woe he might not stop to cheer; Then trusting not a second look, In haste he sped him up the brook.

* * * * *

Mingled with love’s impatience came The manly thirst for martial fame.

* * * * *

Stung by such thoughts, o’er bank and brae Like fire from flint he glanced away.

The railway crosses the stream about this point, and continues up the west side of the loch, while the road keeps on the right, or eastern, side. The rail passes Laggan Farm, said to be the birthplace of Rob’s Amazonian wife, Helen, who takes a part only second to himself in the reader’s imagination. Passing along, therefore, on either side we come, soon after the head of the loch, to bonny little Strathyre, lying amid its great hills, which are flushed as if with fire when the setting sun catches the sweep of the heather in season.

Only a few miles beyond Strathyre is Balquhidder, lying on the road to Loch Voil. The loch lies in a very beautiful situation at the foot of the range known as the Braes of Balquhidder, culminating in Ben A’an and Ben More. It is on the property of Mr. Carnegie, whose house, Stronvar, is at the east side. In the adventurous journey made by the Wordsworths in the beginning of the nineteenth century, they actually walked over the mountains to Balquhidder from Loch Katrine by a wild, rough track, and at the foot of the hills waded through the river. Dorothy thus describes the scenery: “The mountains all round are very high; the vale pastoral and unenclosed, not many dwellings and but a few trees; the mountains in general smooth near the bottom. They are in large unbroken masses, combining with the vale to give an impression of bold simplicity.”

There were a few reapers in the fields, and it was from this fact that Wordsworth was inspired to write his poem _The Solitary Reaper_. The brother and sister visited the graves at Balquhidder before passing on to Callander.

It is said that when the freebooter Rob Roy lay dying in his own house at Balquhidder, his wife mocked at his repentance. He rebuked her, saying: “You have put strife betwixt me and the best men of the country, and now you would place enmity between me and my God.”

[Sidenote: Rob Roy’s Grave]

The grave of Rob Roy is in the little old graveyard, and is only a few feet from the gate. There are rude sculptured figures on the flat stone, seemingly far older than the days of the freebooter, but possibly an old stone was used to mark the place where he at length rested after his roving life. This is not the only association that Balquhidder evokes, for it is mentioned in _The Legend of Montrose_, when the Clan Macgregor there agree to stand by the murderers of the King’s deer-keeper; and also in more modern fiction, when, in Stevenson’s _Kidnapped_, poor David breaks down utterly at Balquhidder, and has to be guarded and cared for by his quaint comrade, Alan Breck.

But, tempting as it is to wander farther up the glen, here we must stop, or we shall get too far from our legitimate route through the Trossachs.