The Sketcher.

Otago Witness, Issue 1462, 22 November 1879, Page 22

The Sketcher.

THE MOUNTAIN TARN.

A Highland Tradition.

In a lonely glen, surrounded by lofty mountains, and miles from any habitation, lies a small loch or tarn, around which tradition hath oast a legend of the olden time. Situated amid the Grampians, the scenery is wild and rugged : such a scene amidst which the wanderer may pause, and feel that the hand of man has never disturbed Nature in her solitude.

Years and years ago, when the turbulent state of Scotland rendered life and property insecure, a large amount of treasure was supposed to have been thrown into the loch, there to escape detection, and to await the return of peaceful times to enable it to be recovered. It had been thrown into, .its hiding-place in the night by those who pos^ sessed it, and the secret had been solemnly sworn to on the naked blade of a dirk — an old form of Highland oath, held to be binding and sacred. ' Time passsd, and quiet times of necessity induced those who held the secret to attempt to recover the treasure. In those primitive days appliances were limited, and the first attempt failed, from inability to reacb the bottom. Months were spent in the manufacture ef ropes from hides, in hopes that the dark water would yet give up th<3 coveted treasure it held within its inky depths. , ,By different routes, in the lone hours of night, the holders of the secret assembled on the shores of this Highland tarn, and vainly tried to reach the bottom. Fathom after fathom went down, but to no avail. Again and again, with increased lengths of rope, did these midnight seekers after gold prosecute their task, but to end in disappointment. The loch yielded nothing save now the almost certain fact that it was unfathomable.

Years rolled away, and no further attempts were made, since dispirited they agreed to abandon the hopeless toil to fathom Lochan Kin Dhoan, or the bottomless loch, as they then styled it ; nor was it ever again attempted by those who first essayed it. Subsequent, however, to their last failure, an incident occurred that, in that age of superstition, oast around the looh the weird belief that it was haunted.

In a baronial keep lived a chief in all the rude pomp of feudal , pride. His lady had died, and left an only daughter, who; now grown up to womanhood, presided over the household. Her father's temper was haughty' 'and imperious, and he vaied every one around > him with Btern Bway. As was the custom' in those days, he had long been at enmity iwith a neighbouring chief ; but Love laughs at Highland pride as well as at locksmiths., His neighbour had a son, who became enamoured with the maiden. But how was the latal gulf of feudal strife to be bridged ? Time went on. Stolea interviews, when by saccident they met, or when her father was absent, were all the young hearts could glean irom the stern hate of both parents; till, 1 ■unable to bear the long weary weeks that prevented, their meeting, the .young chieftain determined to beard the lion in his den, and demand the hand of his 'daughter. Accompanied by an escort,' he arrived before the drawbridge and demanded ;an interview with the chief. The interwiew Jover, the young chieftain reorossed that .drawbridge, and deffed his bonnet to a fair form on the battlements.

•j ' It was some time before they again met. ,The chief had used harsh words and harsh measures to his daughter,- but "Love will ;find out the way ;" and at the next meeting of the lovers .they had arranged to elope. >The strong power of woman's love nerved her for the deed : the cold, heartless home she was about to leave seemed to palliate the act. The temporary absence of the old chief afforded opportunity. On a dark November evening, about two hours after Bunset, a horse bearing the young chieftain and his intended bride was wending ,its way with difficulty along the rugged mountain path amid the darkness, when the 'sound of horses' hoofs was heard. To turn was to encounter foes behind (as well as inif foes they were, as doubtless the lady's flight had been discovered at the [castle ; besides, tlie nature of the ground and the darkness rendered flight hopeless. To move a little to the side, and quietly ,await the chance of being passed in the darkness, was all that now remained to the youthiful lovers. The night had hitherto been dark, but still. The wind was now sweeping over the dark moor, and hurrying the black clouds across the sky with increasing violence. The young ohief felt the fair hand ,that held his girdle tighten as the sound of ithe horses' hoofs wag heard ; but no ocream, Ino sign of fear. All had as yet gone well ; [when a gleam of moonlight lit up the scene and revealed a party of horsemen scarcely 30 yards distant. There was no timo for deliberation ; the young chieftain dashed his spurs to his horse, and with a bound the noble animal was crossing the now moonlit meor at full speed, hotly pursued by the chief and his party. "Capture, but don't fire," wai the brief command.

At first the lovers outstripped their pursuers ; but the double burden began to tell on the young chieftain's horse, and the distance between them lessened. The ohief was gaining on them at every stride, and the pale moon still shone on the scene. Suddenly, as if the earth had opened at their feet, over the precipice that overhangs the Lochan Kin Dhoan leaped the horse and its riders. An exclamation of horror, a wild yell of agony from the chief, as he beheld this fatal leap. A dull, heavy splash in that deep, dark water beneath was all that responded. From that hour it was shunned as a fatal spot.

B|JUli. , The story 6f the treasure had been handed down from father to son, and a party of stout hearts again resolved to brave the dangers that surrounded the scene of the hidden goLl. A night was fixed. But Bcarce Lad the teak begun, ciean arm and hand holding a naked dirk is said to have risen from the water, and an unearthly voice to have ejaculated "Forbear }"

Such is the story of the haunted looh as told long years after on his, dea^h-bed by an old and wrinkled man/ the last. o^ the band that met that night.

• Bftalt show us how dxvineXa thing A woman may be made. \ —WORDSWORTH.