In either alternative which our fate presented, there was no hope of ever beholding these scenes again, and we could not omit this last opportunity of minutely examining and enjoying what was grandest and loveliest in our native land.

We resolved, therefore, to leave no glorious spot unvisited, whatever toil it cost, or risk it exposed us to.

Mountains, indeed, never did involve a risk, but the Lakes of Killarney, which were much frequented at the time, could not be seen without imminent danger, unless by overcoming great physical difficulties.

After we descended from Carn-Tuathail, we were so utterly exhausted as to be obliged to lie down in hay, within one field of the cabin where we were to sleep, from which nothing could tempt us to stir for the night; but we were assailed by swarms of small flies of the mosquito species, that stung us to further exertion.

Although the owners of the cabin gave us their only bed, and provided the best supper for us, we were so persecuted by these flies, that we were forced to quit our bed before day dawned, and endeavour to shake off our tormentors by rolling in the dew and shaking our shirts in the wind.