the Tay, I came to an elevated broad terrace, called the Beech Walk, or Drive, hanging over the river. I was told it continued many miles, bordered by fine beech trees. Through a wood, and by a pleasant walk, I afterwards ascended a high hill, opposite the house, where is a sham fort: from it are lovely views both to the east and west. Having tired my legs, and greatly feasted my eyes, I returned from the beech walk, through some pleasant corn fields, to the stone bridge over the Tay and Kinmore.
I had heard and read of the great yew tree at Fortingal, in Glen Lyon; I therefore, in the afternoon, took the north road on the river Tay, under a towering woody crag, and arrived at the bridge over the river Lyon. The view, at the turn of the road from Kenmore towards that bridge over Appneydow, is enchanting. I then came to the picturesque cluster of trees about the old ruin, near Lyon bridge, which I crossed, and retraced the steps I took from Cashaville, until I came to the entrance of Glen Lyon: a narrow, but beautiful district, flanked by high mountains; some well wooded, others bare; and the space between them tolerably fertile in corn and grass. The fine river Lyon winds through the
