But all the rest of Skye wass the fine land for black cattle.' As we neared the coast, he pointed out many places.

'Look there, Sir, in that glen.

I haf seen six cot houses smoking there, and now there is not any left.

There were three men of my own name had crofts on the machars beyond the point, and if you go there you will only find the marks of their bit gardens.

You will know the place by the gean trees.' When he put me ashore in a sandy bay between green ridges of bracken, he was still harping upon the past.