It is an old land, of war, of Otterburn, and
Ancrum, and the Raid of the Fair Dodhead; but the plough has passed over
all but the upper pastoral solitudes. Turning again to the downward
slope you see the loch of Alemoor, small and sullen, with Alewater
feeding it. Nobody knows much about the trout in it. "It is reckoned
the residence of the water-cow," a monster like the Australian bunyip.
There was a water-cow in Scott's loch of Cauldshiels, above Abbotsford.
The water-cow has not lately emerged from Alemoor to attack the casual
angler. You climb again by gentle slopes till you reach a most desolate
tableland. Far beyond it is the round top of Whitecombe, which again
looks down on St. Mary's Loch, and up the Moffat, and across the Meggat
Water; but none of these are within the view. Round are _pastorum loca
vasta_, lands of Buccleugh and Bellenden, Deloraine, Sinton, Headshaw,
and Glack. Deloraine, by the way, is pronounced "Delorran," and perhaps
is named from Orran, the Celtic saint. On the right lies, not far from
the road, a grey sheet of water, and this is Clearburn, where first I met
the Doctor.
The loch, to be plain, is almost unfishable. It is nearly round, and
everywhere, except in a small segment on the eastern side, is begirt with
reeds of great height.
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