. Connaught. Cong are the famous woodcock covers whereLord Ardilauns guests have killed five hundred birdsin a day. Almost every island on the lake (and thereis said to be an island for every day in the year) isset thick with leafage, and there are those who claimthat Corrib where it broadens out between Cong andOughterard is a rival to Killarney. I do not seek todecide such a contention; but the place is far richerin antiquarian interest than Killarney, and infinitelyless tourist-ridden. It is no business of mine here to write abouthotels; but still one wishes to show what is practi
. Connaught. Cong are the famous woodcock covers whereLord Ardilauns guests have killed five hundred birdsin a day. Almost every island on the lake (and thereis said to be an island for every day in the year) isset thick with leafage, and there are those who claimthat Corrib where it broadens out between Cong andOughterard is a rival to Killarney. I do not seek todecide such a contention; but the place is far richerin antiquarian interest than Killarney, and infinitelyless tourist-ridden. It is no business of mine here to write abouthotels; but still one wishes to show what is practic-able for those who may care to explore this greatline of western lakes. By far the easiest way to gois by the little steamer from Galway to Cong—a runof some thirty miles, done very leisurely. There is acomfortable inn at Cong*, a larger one three or fourmiles off at Clonbur; at Ballinrobe, I suppose, quarterscan be had, and certainly in Tourmakeady on thewest shore of Mask. If, however, you have followed. CONNAUGHT 21 the line from Recess to Letterfrack, and so toLeenane, then there is an admirable possibility forvarying the journey. Take the road from Leenaneto Maam. Halfway down it, near Kilmilkin, anotherroad turns off steeply to the left so that you stillcontrive to skirt the Devils Mother; and after amile or two through bog, it goes corkscrewing downa woeful hill, and you are in the basin of Lough naFooey, high among the hills of Joyce Country. Be-yond the lake the road climbs again to emerge fromthat basin, and you pelt away down the long slope ofMaamtrasna, the valley at the head of upper LoughMask. Savage memories dwell there; memories ofkillings between peasants in the land war of theeighties, memories of high diplomatic slaughter whenthe heir to the earldom of Ulster was done away within Illaun an larla, a little island which your driver willshow you. The Stauntons who carried out that kill-ing kept a bad name from it through centuries ofIrish tradition. Striking
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