Aboyne is the next place of interest. It lies on the north side of the river; and nearly opposite, Glen Tanar opens into Strathdee. This glen at one time must have been densely wooded, as the quantity of wood exported has been enormous; and still it may be truthfully described as a 'really beautiful and richly wooded glen.'

On the north side of the river, a few miles farther down, rises a hill called the 'Red Cap of Mortlach ;' so named from the fact, traditional at least, that some restless spirit took a great fancy to nocturnal rambles on it. Nor would it walk quietly like a decent spirit, but when it was about midnight; spoke loudly, either to itself or the terrified people, they did not know which, as it used an 'unknown language.' And those who had the temerity to look in the direction, saw an ' awful vision, and terrible to behold,' with something on its head like a red night-cap. This hill is easily distinguished by a monument on its summit.

On the south side of the river lies the ancient house and estate of Fenzean (29). The proprietors were originally from Braemar; and the way in which they are said to have acquired the property forms one of the most interesting legends.

Still farther down the river is the ancient village of Kincardine O'Neil, built, tradition says, some 700 years ago, by one who figures largely in the early legends of Braemar. Passing many other points of

HILL OF FARE, CORRICHIE.

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interest, as I am now beyond the boundaries of Braemar, I notice only one other place on account of its connection with Braemar history; that is, the Hill of Fare, a long low range north from Banchory some four miles. There is in its south side a hollow called Corrichie, where a great battle was fought between the Earl of Moray and the Earl of Huntly, the forces of the latter being totally defeated, and himself cruelly slain. Eighteen miles farther down, the Dee falls into the sea near Aberdeen.

CHAPTER VII.

Braemar via Perth-Glenshee-Pass of the Cairnwell-Castleton-The

Gathering, etc.

ESIDES the usual route to Braemar from

the east up Deeside, there is another from the south via Perth and Blairgowrie,

straight through Glenshee and Glen Cluny, right into the heart of Braemar. So, to finish up my previous description of that locality, I give some cursory notes of a visit to Braemar by that route some years ago.

My travelling companion (a thorough Braemarian) and myself having reached Blairgowrie, our first care was to find out some means of transit through the glen; and soon found that a coach ran daily during the months of August and September.

When fairly on the road, with Blairgowrie several miles in the rear, the scene presenting itself was exceedingly striking and impressive. In front, mountain began to rise behind mountain, in apparently endless succession; their superficial outlines not conical, but rounded and wavy, while all were clothed to their summit in a deep green.

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As we drove on, I sat gazing at the interminable maze, wondering where the road could be; and on inquiry, learned, to my great surprise, that it lay right through the hills; although every one of them, from our present point of view, seemed to intimate as plainly as possible that there could be no passage that way.

As we went on, the dwellings became much more scattered. Among the last of them was a farm-house of considerable size, and once of some importance, named Feith-nan-Ceann, a Gaelic name signifying Bog or Burn of the Heads, and is pronounced Fenny-gang. The name originated thus:

A race of the name of Campbell were once lords superior of Glenshee, and did indeed lord it over their less powerful neighbours, as well as their own immediate retainers. Once a year, it is said, they made the circuit of the glen for the purpose of exacting tribute. Bells were attached to the heads of their horses, so that when the tinkling was heard the oppressed people might bring out their tithes without any trouble to the receivers. By and by their spirit was roused; and, so the legend goes, James Stewart of Drumforkit, with twelve gallant fellows, instead of bringing out their tithes, made a fierce onslaught on the Campbells, and, after getting the mastery, cut off their heads and rolled them into a burn or boggy place, from that time named Feith-nan-Ceann.

After passing the Spittal of Glenshee, now an inn, the scenery becomes increasingly grand; and as we enter deeper and deeper into this mountain wilderness, not a trace of human habitation is visible. Life of every kind except the vegetable, and that only of the lowest type, has fled the scene: not even a single sheep browsing in any quiet nook can be detected. Such a strange sensation of utter loneliness creeps over one-what a contrast to the strife and din of the fevered city!

We have been gradually but slowly ascending for some time. Now we are come to what is worth the name of ascent, said to be about 1100 feet. Up this our road winds zig-zag fashion. A peculiarly dangerous part of this road is called the 'Devil's Elbow,' I know not for what reason, except that, while descending, the merest trifle would send the coach with all its occupants spinning down the precipitous sides of the Cairnwell, which is said to rise 3116 feet above the level of the sea. Still, lonely and even dangerous as this place sometimes is, it has a mysterious loveliness-a terrifying fascination peculiar to itself. How cold it is, too, on the bleak summit! and this the 11th of August. Yet there is something delightful in the bracing mountain air:

'How one bounds along with the living breeze,

For here Æolus is always blowing.'

Glen Cluny, through which we next proceed, is a