Day Six - Amulree to Crieff

4.30 a.m. next morning Mr Shaw and I get up to prepare breakfast while the rain comes down in torrents.

I awaken Cargill and he and I go down to the village to get milk while Mr Shaw endeavours to light the fire.

We hammer at the farmhouse door and the angry farmer puts his head out of the window to enquire what we want at such an early hour saying "She will just be six o'clock".

Angry farmer looks at scoutsAfter some persuading he comes down and gives us all he can spare but not getting enough we go to the Hotel in search of more.

On asking for the cook she brings out a loaf and pitcher of milk so we return through the rain to the camp. The fire meantime has refused to kindle as the rain damps the firewood immediately it is put on.

On going up to the schoolhouse for water the Schoolmistress on learning the difficulties we are having with our fire she asks us to cook the breakfast on the fire she has in the schoolroom.

We carry our pots into the school to the amusement of the children in the Class.

They watch with great delight Mr Shaw as he stirs the porridge and if a stranger happens to ask of our visit to Amulree he will hear the children say "Oh wasna' he a roguie the scoutmaster o' Dundee".

After breakfast the weather shows signs of improvement, and preparations are being made for our journey to Crieff. Once more on the road we stop at the school, to say "goodbye" to the Schoolmistress, and she waves to us from the door.

By the side of the hill we are marching, to the right lies an open stretch of country with fields of yellow corn, waving in the wind, and away to the north the "Grampians" stand out against the sky line.

Water bottleDroves of Pheasants rise startled from out of the moor and hundreds of rabbits race up the hills as we pass.

By the village of Newton our way now lies and half a mile further is the entrance to the Sma' Glen.

Halting at a small shop we sit down by the road side and indulge in more Lemonade and Biscuits.

Into the glen we march along between the hills that rise on either side covered in purple heather.

We drink in the beauty of the scene before us in this part of the "Land of brown heath and shaggy woodland of the mountain and the flood".

Down the mountain side rushes a stream, and sparkling out among the fern, chatters over stony ways, while the netted sunbeams dance against its shallows, it bickers down the valley.

Mountain streamUnder a little rustic bridge it flows, and bubbles through the brambly wilderness, to join the brimming river.

Reaching the other side of the Glen the country again opens before us.

The river Almond crosses our path, and winds its way in and out, by grassy plots, and is lost to us midst bowers of over-hanging willows.

By shady woods, and sheltering hills, we go, sometimes a party of tourists pass sometimes a shepherd on his homeward way accompanies us as we march.

The village of Gilmerton looms before us, lying in a hollow half a mile on the way, and at this moment the cyclist go off in the Crieff direction on the look out for camping ground.

Halting outside the town at a little wood beside a quarry permission is granted us to pitch our tents.

On the arrival of the waggon, we pull it up the slope, to a level stretch of ground behind some trees.

Our tents are again being pitched, while a few see to the building of a fire, others go to get water.



Under the personal supervision of Ramsay who has earned for himself the title of the "Chief Blower" the fire burns brightly, and our tea is almost ready.

Scout blowing on fire under billycanWe make an excellent meal of mince and potatoes followed by tea with bread and jam.

Having washed up the dishes we dress, and go to have a look round Crieff.

We form in two deep and all walk into the town together.

Through the principal streets which are thronged with crowds of people who at this time of year come to spend their holidays here.

An occasional youth greets us with a sarcastic remark but we leave Conning to retort which he does admirably and comes off with the honours of the combat.

Entering an Ice Cream shop we celebrate our visit to Crieff with an Ice drink then return to camp. The darkness has fallen while we prepare to go to bed and the rain is coming down heavily.

Day Seven - Crieff to Perth

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