ing, that it is far beyond my power to describe it.
The road to Bun Awe sweeps round the huge base of Cruchan for thirteen miles, sometimes close to the water's edge, at others on a shelf hanging over it, through a continued grove of wood, and adorned by innumerable dashing torrents. Bun Awe is situated near the mouth of the river Awe, where it empties itself into Loch Etive. At some miles to the south of Bun Awe is the ferry, commonly called the Connel Ferry, which, all who go to Fort William by the Appin road, must cross, and it is a carriage road; I am told a tolerable good one. I say told, for alas! I missed it from ignorance of what is there to be seen; and I am in this description come to the Connel Ferry, in order to mention a cascade, as wonderful, if not more so, than any other in the world. Connhuil, signifies the raging flood. This cascade is periodical; for when Loch Etive (which is a salt water lake) is swollen by the spring-tides, it discharges itself in a mighty cataract through a strait, formed by rocks stretching out from either shore. The lake thus encreased falls over the precipitate face of the rocks towards the west, from a height of about fifteen feet, with a
