But the other stream, which had its source
among the mountains on the left hand of the strath, seemed to issue from
a very narrow and dark opening betwixt two large rocks. These streams
were different also in character. The larger was placid, and even sullen
in its course, wheeling in deep eddies, or sleeping in dark blue pools;
but the motions of the lesser brook were rapid and furious, issuing from
between precipices, like a maniac from his confinement, all foam and
uproar.
It was up the course of this last stream that Waverley, like a knight of
romance, was conducted by the fair Highland damsel, his silent guide.
A small path, which had been rendered easy in many places for Flora's
accommodation, led him through scenery of a very different description
from that which he had just quitted. Around the castle, all was cold,
bare, and desolate, yet tame even in desolation; but this narrow glen,
at so short a distance, seemed to open into the land of romance. The
rocks assumed a thousand peculiar and varied forms. In one place, a
crag of huge size presented its gigantic bulk, as if to forbid the
passenger's farther progress; and it was not until he approached its
very base, that Waverley discerned the sudden and acute turn by which
the pathway wheeled its course around this formidable obstacle.
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