Various, Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature…
“ A finer morning for hunting of any kind it would have been impossible to conceive: a warm south-westerly breeze was blowing, and the air felt more like May than February, while the few remaining clouds were rapidly disappearing, and the newly-risen sun, as yet concealed from us by the intervening mountains, was sparkling on the snow-covered summits of the hills, or pouring down through the glens in long rays of golden light on to the many lochs and woods which, intermingled with cultivated fields, formed a belt of lowlands at our feet stretching to the Western Ocean. ”
