diminished by depth and distance that they looked like pigmies. Again the mists close over them, and the only signs of their continued exertions are the halloos of the men, and the clamours of the hounds, ascending as it were out of the bowels of the earth. When the fox, thus persecuted from one stronghold to another, was at length obliged to abandon his valley, and to break away for a more distant retreat, those who watched his motions from the top slipped their greyhounds, which, excelling the fox in swiftness, and equalling him in ferocity and spirit, soon brought the plunderer to his life's end.

Without noticing the occupations of an intervening day or two, which, as they consisted of the ordinary silvan amusements of shooting and coursing, have nothing sufficiently interesting to detain the reader, we pass to one in some degree peculiar to Scotland, which may be called a sort of salmonhunting. This chase, in which the fish is pursued and struck with barbed spears, or a sort of long-shafted trident, called a waster, is much practised at the mouth of the Esk, and in the other salmon rivers of Scotland. The sport is followed by day and night, but most commonly in the latter, when the fish are discovered by means of torches, or fire-grates, filled with blazing fragments of tar-barrels, which shed a strong though partial light upon the water. On the present occasion, the principal party were embarked in a crazy boat upon a part of the river which was enlarged and deepened by the restraint of a mill-wear, while others, like the ancient Bacchanals in their gambols, ran along the banks, brandishing their torches and spears, and pursuing the salmon, some of which endeavoured to escape up the stream, while others, shrouding themselves under roots of trees, fragments of stones, and large rocks, attempted to conceal themselves from the researches of the fishermen. These the party in the boat detected by the slightest indications; the twinkling of a fin, the rising of an air-bell, was sufficient to point out

to these adroit sportsmen in what direction to use their

weapon.

The scene was inexpressibly animating to those accustomed to it; but as Brown was not practised to use the spear, he soon tired of making efforts which were attended with no other consequences than jarring his arms against the rocks at the bottom of the river, upon which, instead of the devoted salmon, he often bestowed his blow. Nor did he relish, though he concealed feelings which would not have been understood, being quite so near the agonies of the expiring salmon, as they lay flapping about in the boat, which they moistened with their blood. He therefore requested to be put ashore, and, from the top of a heugh, or broken bank, enjoyed the scene much more to his satisfaction. Often he thought of his friend Dudley the artist, when he observed the effect produced by the strong red glare on the romantic banks under which the boat glided. Now the light diminished to a distant star that seemed to twinkle on the waters, like those which, according to the legends of the country, the waterkelpy sends for the purpose of indicating the watery grave of his victims. Then it advanced nearer, brightening and enlarging as it again approached, till the broad flickering flame rendered bank, and rock, and tree visible as it passed, tinging them with its own red glare of dusky light, and resigning them gradually to darkness, or to pale moonlight, as it receded. By this light also were seen the figures in the boat, now stooping to strike, now standing upright, bronzed by the same red glare into a colour which might have befitted the regions of Pandemonium.

SIR W. SCOTT.

A TALE OF TERROR.

I WAS once travelling in Calabria, a land of wicked people, who, I believe, hate every one, and particularly the French: the reason why would take long to tell you. Suffice it to say that they mortally hate us, and that one gets treated very badly when one falls into their hands.

In these mountains the roads are precipices, and our horses got on with much difficulty. My companion, leading the way, struck into a path which appeared to him shorter and better than the one we were following, and led us astray. It was my fault: ought I to have trusted a young fellow only twenty years old? As long as daylight lasted we tried to find our way through the wood, but the longer we tried, the more bewildered we became, and it was pitch dark when we arrived at a very black-looking house. We entered, not without fear, but what could we do?

We found a whole family of charcoal-burners seated at table; they immediately invited us to join them. My companion did not wait to be pressed; there we were eating and drinking; he at least, for I was examining the place and the appearance of our hosts. They had quite the look of charcoalburners, but the house you would have taken for an arsenal; there was nothing to be seen but guns, pistols, swords, knives, and cutlasses. Everything displeased me, and I saw very well that I displeased my hosts. My companion, on the contrary, was like one of the family; he laughed and talked with them, and with an imprudence that I ought to have foreseen, he told them at once where we came from, where we were going to, and that we were Frenchmen. Just imagine how foolish! amongst our most deadly enemies, alone, out of our road, so far from all human succour! Then, to omit nothing that might ruin us, he played the rich man, and promised to give our hosts and guides next morning anything they might ask for, in payment of their trouble. Then he spoke of his

portmanteau, begging them to take care of it, and to put it at the head of his bed; he did not wish for any other pillow. One would have thought we carried the crown diamonds! What really caused him so much anxiety about this portmanteau was that it contained letters from his sweetheart.

When supper was over, we were left alone. Our hosts slept down-stairs, we in the room above, where we had supped. A loft, raised some seven or eight feet from the floor, and reached by a ladder, was the resting-place that awaited us—a sort of nest into which we crept under heavy beams hung with provisions for the year. My companion climbed up alone, and, already nearly asleep, laid himself down with his head upon the precious portmanteau. I was determined to sit up all night and watch; so I made a good fire, and sat down beside it. The night, which had been free from alarms, was nearly over, and I began to feel more at my ease; when, just before daybreak, I heard our host and his wife talking and disputing below; and putting my ear to the chimney, which communicated with the room beneath, I distinctly heard the husband say: 'Well, let me see, must they both be killed?' To which the wife replied, 'Yes;' and I heard no more.

I stood scarcely breathing, my body as cold as marble; if you had seen me you would hardly have known whether I was alive or dead. I shudder when I think of it now! There were we two, almost without weapons, against twelve or fifteen who had so many! and my companion was almost dead with sleep and fatigue! I dared not call him or make a noise. To escape alone was impossible; the window was not high, but below were two large dogs howling like wolves. Imagine, if you can, what agony of mind I suffered.

At the end of a long quarter of an hour, I heard some one on the stairs, and through the crack of the door, I saw the father with a lantern in one hand, and a large knife in the

other. Up he came, and his wife after him: I was hiding behind the door; he opened it, but before he came in he handed the lantern to his wife. He then entered, barefoot, and from outside the woman said to him in a low voice, as she shaded the light with her hand, 'Softly, go softly.' When he got to the ladder, he mounted it with his knife between his teeth, and approaching the bed on which the poor young man lay with his throat bare,—with one hand he took his knife, and with the other-oh, cousin!—he seized a ham which hung from the ceiling, cut a slice from it, and retired as he had come. The door was closed again, the light disappeared, and I was left alone with my reflections.

As soon as day appeared, the whole family came and awoke us. They gave us an excellent breakfast, of which two fowls formed part. 'You must eat one of these,' said our hostess, 'and take away the other.' When I saw them, I understood the meaning of those terrible words, 'Must they both be killed?' and I think, cousin, you are clever enough to guess the meaning too.

P. L. COURIER.

A HAUNT OF THE FAIRIES.

SOME of the wildest and finest pieces of scenery in the neighbourhood of Cromarty must be sought for in an upper corner of the parish, where it abuts on the one hand on the parish of Rosemarkie, and on the other on the Moray Firth. We may saunter in this direction over a lonely shore, overhung by picturesque crags of yellow sandstone, and roughened by so fantastic an arrangement of strata that one might almost imagine the rib-like bands, which project from the beach, portions of the skeleton of some huge antediluvian monster. No place can be more solitary, but no solitude more cheerful. The natural rampart that rises more than a hundred yards over the shore, as if to shut us out from the world, sweeps