Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-10-12

Around the base of the hill are winding streets,
full of curious old structures with gable-ends,
arched gateways, hanging balconies, projecting
towers, and round turnpike stairs, hanked by
vennels, closes and alleys. quaint those OF
old Edin burgh itself. Il was at the old Courier
office, just below there, that rare Hugh Miller,
while chiseling Inverness grayestones and
pothering along the old coastline to trace pre-
Adamite periods. got out his little volume OF
twenty poems, which. il you have handy
now, you can sell for twenty guineas to the
book collectors. Where you stand. once came
and dwelt Pictish and Scottish kings. The
blue river sweeps past from the southwest,
after receiving the waters OF that majestic
chain OF lakes which, bordered by the greatest
mountains of Scotland. stretches straight
arrow from the German ocean to the West
ern In the opposite direction city and val
ley basin sweep to the harbor edge in graceful
circles. There and beyond, where once rode the
Dutch and Indian freighters, is now, first the
crescent of fretted shore; then the splendid
bay dotted b. the lazy sails of east-coast fishers:
then the opaline shlmmering of the Firth OF
Inverness, expanding and finally narrowing
where Fortrose stood at the north and Crom-
wells grim menace, stupendous Fort George.
jutted from the headland at the south; and then
vast Moray Firth with its fierce far headlands;
and at last the blue Just the river
there, at the northern edge OF the city, stands
Cralg-Phadrlc, hitting It's parachute-llke crown
Ing forest above the city, and hiding within it
one OF those most curious of antiquarian enig-
mas, a vitriied fort of Pagan construction, the
most extensive and perfect one still existing in
Britain. Down behind you in the mazes OF an
cient streets are the remains OF an ancient mar
turtles old; and in its base is imbeded
q blue, lozenge-shaped stone, the palladlu OF
the old burgh, and called Gdch ma -cudden, or
'Stone of the Tubs for having been for IN
told generations the resting place for women
with their tubs, as they halted moment for
gossip on their way to and from the Ness for
water. Just mile from where you stand, at
the mouth Of the Caledoniau canal, is one Of the
most picturesque little fishing villages OF Scot
land. 1t is in reality part of the acnient city.
1t is called Clachnaharry. 1t clusters about the
base OF high, bold headland rock. In Olden
times sentinels were stationed upon this rock to
give notice of the approach OF caterans and
other marauders CIGch-HG- hsrrG.
ROCK OF THE wATCHNAG''
was its Gaelic name 1000 years ago, and Clach-
the southwestern edge of the town rises from
the plain boyle haunted Tomnahurich. Tom-a-
churiach, or. knoll of the Canoe was its
Gaelic -me; because it resembles an inverted
ancient curach, the hide bottomed canoe of the
anclents. Hugh Miller gives it rank as Queen
Of the Scottish tomhans. - Tradition SAYS the
mighty cairn is the tomb of Thomas the
Rhymer, prophet bard of Ercildoune; tomb as
eternal and almost as mighty as the pyramid OF
Cheops FAIRY lore peoples 1t With colonies and
legions of the wee folk. Savant and servant
quicken their pace by it at night; and all High
lenders hold it in veneration.
Not four miles from where you stand, on the
great Moor of CulOden, which sweeps in dreaTy
ridges and scrubby plantations Of frs around
Culloden House, then, when the head quarters Of
'bonnie Prince Charley,'' and now, with its
m odern restoration, the property of the Forbes
family, Cumberland's 10, 900 trained men butch
manned TO stand with sword in hand for the line
of Stuart. Where all the different clans fell can
he as clearly traced by the tiny headstones as
we can follow the old wraithlines of our Blue
and Gray on the field of Gettysburg A step be-
yond Culloden Moor, just across the little river
Marin, is another mystic city of the dead. In
tiny valley dominated by two hills called Dun
Evan and Dun Davlot, which still be
traced the outlines and walls of stupendous pre-
historic forts, you viii find the most extensive
and impressive series of cairns and stone circles
anywhere existing in Scotland. II ancient In
verness was the capital of Pictavia, here was the
place OF incarceration and sepulture of all those
mighty Northern hosts from remotest, mist
hidden time. But turning from contemplation
OF oogIe- haunted cairns, ancient slaughter
pens and wondrous Pagan Metropolis how fair
the valley smiles back, with cleaning river,
sh mmerlng bay, CLASSY lake and beauteous
city, TO the September sun. Myriad upon myriad
gossamer lines sweep across 1t from mountain
to caIrn, from caifn 10 spire, from spire to
headland, from headand to mountain again;
and along the serreted edges of northern aud
southern horizon these blend with the tender
mists which wreathe the peaks above. Those to
the south disclose ana hide the Grampian
range. Those TO north glow in the face of their
king, mighty Ben Wyvis, and Ben Wyvis hints
of unknown Highland straths and glens of
mystic ags and waterfalls, eagles and Bride
paths, of red deer and poachers, of crofts arr
sheelings, Of Gaelic and grandeur. And Il
these, as we may, We shall go. ~
EEGAR L. WAKEMAN. a