The Red Deer of Ireland.

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horn, yew, and holly, growing wild and blending their different greens with great luxuriance. Here a neat little cottage peeped upon us from some unexpected openings. There the smoke, curling above the treetops, pointed to its concealment; whilst groups of grazing cattle enlivened the whole. From a solid detached rock, apparently without any soil, we remarked a yew-tree growing."

After having proceeded a short distance, we pass Lady Kenmare's Cottage, and coasting along by Darby's Garden, Burnt Island, Stag Island, with Ross Point in the distance, and the Tomies Mountain rising in indescribable grandeur to the left, we arrive at a point from which a path leads to O'Sullivan's Cascade. "The cascade," says Wright, "consists of three falls; the uppermost, passing over a bridge of rocks, falls about twenty feet perpendicularly into a natural basin, then making its way between two hanging rocks, the torrent hastens down a second precipice into a second receptacle, from which it rolls over into the lowest chamber of the fall."

The forest about Tomies is still stocked with the old red deer of Ireland, and on certain occasions a grand hunt is organized. The sport may be considered somewhat cruel, but it is seldom, if ever, that the stag is killed, or even torn by the hounds. The writer was present some years ago when an event of the kind came off, and can fully endorse the following description of a scene which, if not pleasant to the hunted, is at all times picturesque. So is a Spanish bull fight :

"On the day preceding the hunt those preparations are made which are thought best calculated to ensure it a happy issue. An experienced person is sent up the mountain to search for the herd, and watch its motions in patient silence till night comes on. The deer which remains most aloof from its companions is carefully observed and marked as the object of pursuit, and it is generally found at the dawn of the ensuing morning in the vicinity of the evening haunt. Before the break of day the dogs are conducted up the mountain as silently and secretly as possible, and are kept coupled until some signal-commonly the firing of a small cannon—announces that the party commanding the hunt has arrived in boats at the foot of the mountain; then the dogs are loosed and brought upon the track of the deer. If the business previous to the signal has been silently and orderly conducted, the report of the cannon, the sudden shouts of the hunters on the mountain which instantly succeed it, the opening of the dogs, and the loud and continued

echoes along an extensive region of woods and mountains, produce an effect singularly grand:

"Tremble the forest round; the joyous cries

Float through the vales, and rocks and woods and hills
Return the varied sounds."

The deer, upon being roused, generally endeavours to gain the summit of the mountains, that he may more readily make his escape across the open heath to some distant retreat. To prevent this, numbers of people are stationed at intervals along the heights, who, by loud shouting, terrify the animal, and drive him towards the lake. At the last hunt which I attended a company of soldiers were placed along the mountaintop, who, keeping up a running fire, effectually deterred him from once ascending. The hunt, however, begins to lose its interest after the first burst, and the ear becomes wearied with the incessant shouts which drown the opening of the hounds and the echoes of their mellow tones. The ruggedness of the ground embarrasses the pursuers; the scent is followed with difficulty and often lost altogether, or only resumed at the end of a long interval; much confusion also arises from the emulous efforts of the people on the water to follow the course of the hunt, especially if it should take a direction towards the Upper Lake, when the contending boats are frequently entangled among the rocks and shoals of the river which leads to it. Those who attempt to follow the deer through the woods are rarely gratified with a view, and are often excluded from the grand spectacle of his taking the sail, or, in other words, plunging into the lake. It is, therefore, generally recommended to remain in a boat, and those who have the patience to wait as long as five or six hours are seldom disappointed. I was once gratified by seeing the deer run for nearly a mile along the shore, with the hounds pursuing him in full cry. On finding himself closely pressed he leaped boldly from the rock into the lake, and swam towards one of the islands; but terrified by the approach of the boats he returned, and once more sought for safety on the main shore. Soon afterwards, in a desperate effort to leap across a chasm between two rocks, his strength failed him, and he fell exhausted to the bottom. It was most interesting to behold the numerous spectators who hastened to the spot-ladies, gentlemen, peasants, hunters, combined in various groups around the noble victim

as he lay extended in the depth of the forest. The stag, as is usual on these occasions, was preserved from death.”

Having wandered for a while in the neighbourhood of O'Sullivan's Cascade, et us row to Innisfallen, the "Gem of Killarney." Pen or pencil can but faintly sketch the fairy-like beauty of all that belongs to

this enchanting spot. It contains a lawn of the richest verdure, and foliage of every class in more than profusion-ash, holly, beech, yew, and other trees, are here found in combination of the most colourgiving character; while beneath the shade of some of the most spreading ash trees to be found in the kingdom may be descried the grey walls of an oratory which recall the days when Ireland was pre-eminently a seat of hospitality, learning, and religion. Here, indeed, are "hill and dell, wood as gloomy as the ancient Druidical forests, thick with giant ashes and enormous hollies; glades sunny and cheerful, with the beautiful underwood bounding them, bowers and thickets, rocks and old ruins, light and shadow, everything that nature can supply, without a single touch

of the hand of art, save the crumbling ruins, and all in a space of twenty-one acres, making Innisfallen justly the pride of the worthy denizens of Killarney." With the exception of the oratory referred to, which in its western gable retains a very interesting doorway, in the Hiberno-Romanesque style, nothing beyond traces of foundations, overgrown with moss and ferns, remains of a celebrated monastery, which in the seventh century was here founded by St. Finian. Though the walls be levelled the fame of this monastery will long survive, as long, at least, as Irish history is studied, for the "Annals of Innisfallen," compiled here during centuries of thoughtful labour, are still extant, and are considered by savants as taking high rank amongst the chronicles relating to the history of Erin, which have been handed down to our time.

"Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well,

May calm and sunshine still be thine;
How fair thou art let others tell,
To feel how fair, yet still be mine.

"Sweet Innisfallen long shall dwell
In memory's dream, that sunny smile,
Which o'er thee on that evening fell,
When first I saw thy fairy isle."

From Innisfallen a short pull will bring us to Ross Castle, one of the celebrities, and deservedly so, of Killarney. It consists of a tall quadrangular tower, or keep, and was originally enclosed by outworks, with semi-cylindrical flankers at the angles. It was built by one of the family of O'Donoghue Ross, and dates probably from the fourteenth century. Within it is a spiral stair of stone leading to the top, from which a very interesting view of the lake, its islands, and surrounding mountains is attainable. Very little is known about the history of this truly Irish fortalice, but we read that in the wars of the Commonwealth it was held by Lord Muskerry for the king, against General Ludlow, with a force of four thousand foot and two hundred horse. It would appear that amongst the neighbouring Irish there had long existed a prophecy that Ross Castle would never be taken until a man-of-war attacked it from the water. During his siege operations against the hold, General Ludlow caused a vessel of unusual size, for fresh water at least, to be constructed, and had it carried overland and launched on

Ross Island and Castle.

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Lough Leane. As soon as the Irish garrison saw this prodigy, as they thought the ship to be, they surrendered, and five thousand Munster men laid down their arms.

From all parts of the lower lake, and from every point of the adjacent heights, Ross Castle forms a most conspicuous feature in the scenery. The view from its summit, which is easily accessible, and will not scare the most timid, commands all the most attractive objects which, on every side of the lake, environ it; and a ramble through the island will be pleasurably and most agreeably spent, as the surrounding grounds are beautifully laid out with walks and gardens, and will repay the visitor. The abbey of Muckross is situated on the beautiful demesne of Mr. Herbert, not far from Ross Castle. Indeed, these two

interesting relics of Old Killarney are within a morning's visit of the town. They abbey, according to Archdale, was founded in 1440 by the M'Carthy's, on the foundation of a much older church, which was destroyed by fire in 1192. The ruins consist of a church and convent, the former measuring about one hundred feet in length, and consisting of choir, nave, transept, tower, and cloisters. The cloisters remain nearly perfect, and consist of a beautiful quadrangle of arches, some pointed and some having semi-circular heads. In the centre of the square stands a venerable yew tree, said to be as old as the abbey itself. Very few ruins present the picturesque appearance that strikes the stranger on entering these venerable walls, which seem only

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