In the Gaelic tongue Glencoe signifies the Glen of Weeping; and in truth that pass is the most dreary and melancholy of all the Scottish passes, the very Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Mists and storms brood over it through the greater part of the finest summer; and even on those rare days when the sun is bright, and when there is no cloud in the sky, the impression made by the landscape is sad and awful.

The path lies along a stream which issues from the most sullen and gloomy of mountain pools.
Huge precipices of naked stone frown on both sides.

Even in July the streaks of snow may often be discerned in the rifts near the summits.
All down the sides of the crags heaps of ruin mark the headlong paths of the torrents.

Mile after mile the traveller looks in vain for the smoke of one hut, for one human form wrapped in plaid, and listens in vain for the bark of a shepherd's dog or the bleat of a lamb.