GLENEIRA:

OR

The Beer-Hunt of Corry-na-Gavr.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE HIGHLAND SMUGGLERS," ETC.

Now, come, be advised-don't think of stirring. If our quarters are not magnificent, they are dry and warm, no bad qualities in a rough night: we'll pass the evening merrily, and as for beds, when we want them, why, our plaids and a little heather,-old Alaster there can give us some, I dare say, and it's not the first time we have both fared worse."

"Ou, your honour, it's no come to that yet wi' Alaster Breachk, that gentlemen in his house shu'd hae to put up wi' straw or heather. There's two good warm beds in bye, -no just for the like o' you an' young Gleneira; but there's mony a one, gentle, an' simple, has sleepit in them for a' that, an' got a good night's rest after a day in the hill. An' its a course night, like to be, an' the roads long and weary to Leurich, an' no that ready to find for them that does na ken the hill weel."

"Oh, but I know the hill well enough," said young Gleneira; -"I have gone the road more than once myself, and I know the lay of the ground, and if once I get the water-shear, there's no fear of me, if the night were as dark as the black dog's mouth. But the night will be fine yet see, there's the moon out

already."

"It's the last sight ye'll get o' her the nicht, then, or Ewen Bochall kens nothing about it," said an old man rising from a dark newk near the fire, and thrusting out a brown and grizzled muzzle to the weather, before he delivered his opinion" it's just the time she 'll shew her face if she'll shew it at all; but see till her, how she's glowring out o' yon bruch, an' the drifts whuddan ow'r her like a flock o' black craws an' div ye see yon bonnat on Benlarich-it's never for nothing that he puts on his cap that fashion". - and he pointed to a wreath of grey mist that was rolling down the glen, and devouring, as it might seem, the forms of the huge mountains, already powdered by the snow that had fallen.

Ewen Bochall (or the herd, as the name implies) was an old man, whose occupation, exercised for a period of seventy years in the neighbourhood, with a more than common acuteness of observation, had rendered him so experienced in the changes of the weather in those elevated regions, that he had become almost the oracle of the district in such matters; and his opinion so decidedly expressed, was sufficient to influence even the most knowing of the company in their

arrangements for the evening. Those who believed that the storm was breaking up, and might on such belief be preparing, like the young laird of Gleneira, for their departure, sunk once more into their seats, and mentally resolved to remain where they were for the night.

The opinion of Ewen Bochall had its effect even on the person to whom it was addressed. The young man cast an uneasy look abroad over the dreary highland prospect, wrapt in darkness and storm,-in mist and snow ;-then turned his eyes upon the scene within. The hut in which they were for the present sheltered, was only a black turf-built bothy; but turf makes warm walls; all crevices were stopped against the cold; a glowing fire, kept well supplied from a heap of dry peats, diffused not only heat, but a bright light through the dusky apartment: and though the blue smoke curled and eddied among the blackened rafters, and floated in a dense cloud above the heads of the inmates, they were too well accustomed to such an atmosphere to feel materially incommoded by it. On a little table before this fire was placed store of good whiskey, and even the brandy of France, which in the days we speak of found its way into the meanest public houses of the Highlands, offered its attractions to the company. At this table had been seated the two young sportsmen who have been introduced to the reader, and who, after a day's deer-stalking in the hill, from which they had been driven by the storm, had fortunately made good their way to the humble dwell

ing of Alaster Breachk. Around the fire at various distances, and in various attitudes, sat or lay the attendants, and other casual guests, who had taken advantage of its hospitable shelter, and who, according to their respective claims to respectability, or the consideration they enjoyed with their superiors at the table, occasionally joined in the conversation, and ventured on a remark.

The contrast without was sufficiently striking; and a temporary struggle shewed itself in the young man's countenance. But it was of short duration. " "No," said he- 66 go I must. My old aunt would be miserable if I did not return to night-I shall at all events get near to Leurich, and be with her early in the morningand see, there's the moon out again. Ewen, canny as ye are, my old boy, I believe ye are out for oncethe night will be fine yet. I'll be up the hill, and through the pass before the next cloud breaks, at all events."

Old Ewen shook his head, and Gleneira's companion made another effort to dissuade his friend from so rash an attempt. "I wish to heaven, man, you would just make yourself easy; I have as much cause to wish myself at home as you can have, but not a bit shall I move; come, let us spend the night in good fellowship; and when we part to-morrow, let it be with a pleasant recollection of our night in the bothy of Aultshie."

"No, my good fellow, no. It was not a little against the old lady's wish, good soul! that I took

this road at all; for you know it does not pass a thousand miles from the dwellings of some of these Innerallin folk that she makes such a work about. I do believe the good lady would as soon hear of my keeping tryste with the devil, as of meeting by chance with one of that family; and to say the truth, Ronald, though I can't see the sense of it, nor feel particularly wroth at them, it would scarce be seemly for my father's son to throw himself in the way of my father's sworn foes. But we need not talk of that just now — must not lose the blink-the blast may come full soon. I'm off-another pull, just by way of Deoch-in-dorris— and so God bless you!"

So saying, young Gleneira emptied his cup, threw his plaid over his shoulder, drew tight the belt of his phelibeg, felt that his dirk was loose in its sheath, took his long Spanish gun from the corner, called on his unwilling attendant, whistled his great wire-haired deer-hound from its snug lair before the fire -a summons lazily obeyed by the huge weary animal — and opening the door of the hut, strode forth into the waste beyond it, followed by the anxious thoughts and wishes of all the party.

The prospect which met the keen gaze of the young sportsman as, on emerging from the ruddy glare and smoke of the hut, he cast his eyes around, was certainly none of the most cheering. The wide muir, on which was dropped the bothy of Alaster Breachk, stretched for several miles on every side, exposing its bleak irregular surface to the driving wind. Already