originated in the fertile brain of the nineteenth century writer quoted-I must say improperly quoted-by Mr Mackenzie. As to the bare tale that a church and congregation were burnt at Kilchrist, of which there is a tradition, I say that, in the face not merely of the absence of contemporary evidence to support it, but of the positive evidence afforded by contemporary writers, one of whom, the writer of the "Ancient MS.," describes the whole raid, and, in spite of what would have seemed, had the story of the burning of the church occurred, the divine retribution which overtook many of the raiders at Torbreck on the same day, says nothing of a church being burnt, while he describes all else minutely-in the face of that evidence I say the tradition must yield. The proceedings taken nineteen years after by the Archdean of Ross, and the narrative given in them, dispel any remaining vestige of doubt.

It may be objected that the Archdean only pursued Allan of Lundie for the loss sustained by himself and his own tenants, and that mention of the burning of the church and congregation was not a matter on account of which he would personally prosecute. Perhaps so, but no one who reads the Privy Council Records of the period will maintain that even in a semi-private prosecution arising out of the raid, the fact that one man even had been burnt to death would have remained unmentioned if it were the fact. The meaning of the narrative in the letter of gift manifestly is that the men were killed in fight while resisting the raiders. What then becomes of the promenade of Glengarry's piper round the burning church improvising a new pibroch? Then, why should not the burning of the church be complained of, if it took place, as well as the twenty-seven houses? These houses no more belonged to the Archdean than the church, yet he mentions the fact that they and their barns, byres, and kilns were burnt, not because they belonged to him, but as part of the narrative he laid before the Crown describing the raid in order to obtain the concurrence of the Lord Advocate to the criminal prosecution. The narrative names four persons who were killed, and it indicates that there may have been a fifth. That is the death-roll of the raid. Had it been otherwise, the complaint would have mentioned the fact. An examination of the Privy Council Records of the time, when such complaints were common, will prove this. What then becomes of the church full of men, women, and children? There is some reason to believe, moreover, that the Archdean himself was at the time serving the cure of Cilliechriost-at all events, he had his residence there, and was certainly incumbent of the neigh

bouring parish of Killearnan, and Cilliechriost was within the Diocese in which he was a high church dignitary. Is it probable that this gentleman would have made the burning of twenty-seven black houses matter of complaint to the Privy Council and not even refer to the fact that a church within his Diocese had been burnt at the same time with its whole congregation? The thing is incredible. In a letter I had a few days ago from Sir William Fraser, that learned writer says, "had such an outrage occurred, it could not fail to have been specially noticed in the proceedings against the raiders, and the absence of any such charge against them outweighs the tradition however precise. Many traditions as persistent and precise as this about the burning of the worshippers have been exploded."

The origin of the tradition is not far to seek. There is a much older tradition that in 1487, before the battle of Park, the Macdonalds burnt the church of the neighbouring parish of Contin, with a large number of Mackenzies who had fled to it for refuge in the belief that their enemies would respect their sanctuary. It is easy to understand how, in the course of years, the two stories got mixed, until now the earlier association of the burning of worshippers with the Contin church is forgotten, and the story transferred to Cilliechriost. It is not at all improbable, too, that Contin was the name mentioned in Dr Johnson's presence, although he rendered it Culloden, either through imperfect hearing or imperfect recollection.

The church burning part of the story disposed of, the remainder of the tradition is not of so much consequence, but it is instructive to know that the most ardent believers in the tradition say that there is no place on the Aultsigh where Allan's wonderful leap could have been made. True, they point to another place a few miles away, which might fit into the tradition. But the tradition that Aultsigh was the place is precise, and was as universally accepted as the burning of the church, until scrutinised. Again, the story of the leap into Loch Ness and the rescue by Fraser of Foyers is contradicted by local traditions in Glengarry and Glenmoriston.

In the former, the tradition is that the Laird of Lundie returned home immediately after the raid, and, in Glenmoriston, tradition points out the place half a mile below Torgoyle Bridge, where Allan and his people crossed the River Moriston on their return home from the raid. And this not only fits in with the other local traditions connected with the raid, but it accounts for

The

the carrying off of the Archdean of Ross's cattle-an impossible feat had the flight from Cilliechriost been so hurried and the subsequent rout of the raiders been so complete as the writer quoted by Mr Mackenzie would have us believe. The proceedings by the Archdean state that 70 cattle were taken from Cilliechriost, and the fact that the proceedings were taken 19 years afterwards shows that the raiders succeeded in carrying them away, and that any pursuit which may have taken place was unsuccessful. raiders, therefore, would seem to have returned home somewhat leisurely, and the skirmish at Aultsigh was probably no more than a chance encounter between a rear-guard of the Macdonalds, under Allan himself, and a pursuing party of the Mackenzies, who came up too late to engage the main body of the Macdonalds. The writer of the ancient MS. says nothing of a leap into Loch Ness or a rescue by Fraser of Foyers, and the inference is fair that Allan returned to Glengarry. The fact that he had two hiding-places in his native glen goes to show that he was sought for by a force so strong that he could not hope' to beat them in open fight. It is extremely improbable that against such a force the Laird of Foyers would have been able to defend him. It is much more probable that Allan reached his native glen and his island fastness immediately after the raid. He had not been long at Lundie when, according to local tradition, a strong body of Kintail Mackenzies surrounded the Loch and attempted to capture him in the night time. Allan was alone, and, but for his boldness would have been lost. He adopted tactics similar to those adopted by the blacksmith of Moy nearly a century and a half later, to deceive his foes. Pretending to have a large body of men at hand he called in a loud voice, "Our common enemy is here, surround them." Midnight courage is a rare thing, and the Kintail men fearing to meet a superior force of whose disposition they knew nothing, took to flight over the hill. Allan followed them, and by shooting an arrow at one of his fleeing foes when he got him between him and the sky-line, he succeeded in killing twenty-one of them before they reached the summit of the hill. This tradition can, of course, only be accepted with very considerable modification. It is, however, instructive as showing the two lines in which tradition has gone in dealing with Allan Macranald. In his own country he has been made a miracle of bravery and skill as a leader. In the country of his enemies the Mackenzies, he has been made a miracle of ferocity.

After this, Allan, it is said, felt that his island must be supplemented by a second retreat, and the cave was prepared. He

secured the services of a mason from the low country to make up his cave, and when the mason work was finished and the cave ready for occupation, Allan asked his assistant to go inside and see if all was right. This the mason did, and, as he came out, the hero of Cilliechriost struck off his head, so that no one but himself should know of the hiding place. On the moor overhead, at a spot a few hundred yards lower down the stream, a place is shown where a flat stone let into the ground is said to mark the mason's grave. So long as Allan of Lundie was believed guilty of burning women and children in the Church of Cilliechriost, this story might have been credible, but if the raid of Cilliechriost was what I take it to have been, a successful foray by a handful of Glengarry men led by Allan of Lundie, a brave and skilful captain, into the heart of the territory of a foe much more numerous than themselves, if the story of the flight of the Kintail men from Loch Lundie is even partially true, then the story of the dastardly treachery to the mason is incredible. The fearless leader of the men of Glengarry could not have done it.

We were able to examine all the islands on Loch Lundie through the kindness of Mr Malcolm, Invergarry, who placed a guide and a boat at our disposal. One at least of the islands on the Loch is artificial, and another, a larger island, is joined by an artificial causeway to the mainland.

GLENMORISTON AND ITS TRADITIONS.

Leaving Loch Lundie and its islands, we proceeded a short distance along the road, and then starting off to the right, began to climb the ridge separating Glengarry from Glenmoriston. A somewhat rough ride of six or seven miles over peat hags and rocks brought us to the summit of the ridge. In a moment Glenmoriston from Ceanacroc to Dundreggan broke upon our sight, affording in its beautiful and cultured loveliness, such a contrast to the bleak and dreary scenes through which we had been riding for hours that it looked like a bit of fairyland suddenly disclosed to us. But we soon had our attention called to objects of interest nearer at hand. All around us were rude cairns of stones, none of them large, but all built with some degree of care of the stones found in the vicinity. There is no name nor inscription outside, and no burial inside, but yet each cairn is the record of a burial- -a pathetic record of man's longing to have his bones laid with the dust of his kindred. After

the Glengarry emigrations of the latter part of the last century and the beginning of the present, that glen was to some extent re-peopled from Glenmoriston. But the hearts of the migrated people remained in their native glen, and their last wish was that their dust should be carried back over the hill, and laid in the old churchyard of Glenmoriston-how old no one knows-where their ancestors had been buried for generations. And as one after the other the emigrants-emigrants. from home, although only to a neighbouring glen-died, their surviving kin and neighbours carried the rude coffin over the bleak moor, mile after mile toilsomely, and sadly and silently enough, until they reached this spot, where the glen they still called home lay like a lovely picture below them. Behind lay the land of their adoption, bleak, barren, brown, and cold-colder still as the land of the stranger. In front, below the softly wooded slopes, ran smoothly along its pearl-besprinkled bed the lovely Moriston, with the narrow haughlands on either bank, clothed in mixed green and gold of the ripening grain. What wonder then that the spot where, after perhaps years of absence, the old home came once more in sight--in sight to all on that hilltop but the forever closed eyes of their silent burden the Highlander should instinctively build a cairn as his far-away ancestors did where a warrior died. And such is the history of the Ceanna-Mhaim cairns.

A short way down the slope on the Glenmoriston side a series of gravelly ridges runs along the flank of the hill. They form a noticeable feature in the landscape, and local tradition connects them with an invasion of the glen by the men of Skye somewhere in the fifteenth century. Whether such an invasion ever took place or not the ridges are much older than that, for our geologist (the Senior Bailie) had no difficulty in pronouncing them the lateral moraines of a glacier which filled Glenmpriston a long time before Skyemen began to invade the mainland.

Remounting our ponies after examining the moraines, a short steep ride brought us to a portion of General Wade's road from Fort-Augustus, following which we came to the new road through Glenmoriston, and then, crossing the river by the ford at Achlain, we visited the old churchyard of Glenmoriston-one of the oldest in the country-in the centre of which lie the bones of the ancestors of our host, whose family, Mac-Ian-Chaoil, was one of four septs of Macdonalds, who were powerful in Glenmoriston until the downfall of the Lordship of the Isles. Norwithstanding the transfer of the patrimony of their Chief and Clan to the Grants, these Macdonalds stuck to their glen, and they remain