Here was a square stone, called, as we are told,
Fingal's Table.
If we had been provided with torches, we should have proceeded in
our search, though we had already gone as far as any former
adventurer, except some who are reported never to have returned;
and, measuring our way back, we found it more than a hundred and
sixty yards, the eleventh part of a mile.
Our measures were not critically exact, having been made with a
walking pole, such as it is convenient to carry in these rocky
countries, of which I guessed the length by standing against it.
In this there could be no great errour, nor do I much doubt but the
Highlander, whom we employed, reported the number right. More
nicety however is better, and no man should travel unprovided with
instruments for taking heights and distances.
There is yet another cause of errour not always easily surmounted,
though more dangerous to the veracity of itinerary narratives, than
imperfect mensuration. An observer deeply impressed by any
remarkable spectacle, does not suppose, that the traces will soon
vanish from his mind, and having commonly no great convenience for
writing, defers the description to a time of more leisure, and
better accommodation.
He who has not made the experiment, or who is not accustomed to
require rigorous accuracy from himself, will scarcely believe how
much a few hours take from certainty of knowledge, and distinctness
of imagery; how the succession of objects will be broken, how
separate parts will be confused, and how many particular features
and discriminations will be compressed and conglobated into one
gross and general idea.
To this dilatory notation must be imputed the false relations of
travellers, where there is no imaginable motive to deceive. They
trusted to memory, what cannot be trusted safely but to the eye,
and told by guess what a few hours before they had known with
certainty. Thus it was that Wheeler and Spon described with
irreconcilable contrariety things which they surveyed together, and
which both undoubtedly designed to show as they saw them.
When we had satisfied our curiosity in the cave, so far as our
penury of light permitted us, we clambered again to our boat, and
proceeded along the coast of Mull to a headland, called Atun,
remarkable for the columnar form of the rocks, which rise in a
series of pilasters, with a degree of regularity, which Sir Allan
thinks not less worthy of curiosity than the shore of Staffa.
Not long after we came to another range of black rocks, which had
the appearance of broken pilasters, set one behind another to a
great depth. This place was chosen by Sir Allan for our dinner.
We were easily accommodated with seats, for the stones were of all
heights, and refreshed ourselves and our boatmen, who could have no
other rest till we were at Icolmkill.
