The pass down which I was now going was yet wilder than the one up
which I had lately come.
Close on my right was the steep hill's
side out of which the road or path had been cut, which was here and
there overhung by crags of wondrous forms; on my left was a very
deep glen, beyond which was a black, precipitous, rocky wall, from
a chasm near the top of which tumbled with a rushing sound a
slender brook, seemingly the commencement of a mountain stream,
which hurried into a valley far below towards the west. When
nearly at the bottom of the descent I stood still to look around
me. Grand and wild was the scenery. On my left were noble green
hills, the tops of which were beautifully gilded by the rays of the
setting sun. On my right a black, gloomy, narrow valley or glen
showed itself; two enormous craggy hills of immense altitude, one
to the west and the other to the east of the entrance; that to the
east terminating in a peak. The background to the north was a wall
of rocks forming a semicircle, something like a bent bow with the
head downward; behind this bow, just in the middle, rose the black
loaf of Arran. A torrent tumbled from the lower part of the
semicircle, and after running for some distance to the south turned
to the west, the way I was going.
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