The general proportion that (Nature) must obtain between certain groups of animals is readily seen. Large animals cannot be so abundant as small ones; the carnivora must be less numerous than the herbivore; eagles and lions can never be so plentiful as pigeons and antelopes; the wild asses of the Tartarian deserts cannot equal in numbers the horses of the more luxuriant prairies and pampas of America. The greater or less fecundity of an animal is often considered to be one of the chief causes of its abundance or scarcity; but a consideration of the facts will show us that it really has little or nothing to do with the matter. Even the least prolific of animals would increase rapidly if unchecked, whereas it is evident that the animal population of the globe must be stationary, or perhaps, through the influence of man, decreasing.

—ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE, "ON THE TENDENCY OF VARIETIES TO DEPART INDEFINITELY FROM THE ORIGINAL TYPE", 1858

Chapter 8

Inverness, Scottish Highlands
Scotland

Max dropped me off at the hotel lobby after the first day of Angus's trial, but I was antsy, and in no mood to stay in my room. Despite being convinced of Angus's guilt, this was the first time my father had ever acknowledged me in a positive way, dissolving years of anger. A well of emotions filled my soul, sobered only by the skeptical, analytical left side of my brain, which kept screaming at me to leave Scotland immediately, warning me that allowing Angus back into my heart was like putting out fire with gasoline.

Stop thinking with your left brain. Give the man a chance to redeem himself.

I should've known better.

With a long weekend ahead, I decided to rent a car and reacquaint myself with the Highlands, hoping to track down Finlay "True" MacDonald, my boyhood friend from Drumnadrochit. The transportation plan changed slightly when I passed the motorbike rental.

I was not a biker, having ridden a motorcycle less than half a dozen times, but something about being in the Highlands on the open road tugged at me. Twenty minutes later, I was motoring out of Inverness, the twin cam engines of a Harley-Davidson Softail rumbling between my legs as I wove south through bumper-to-bumper traffic along the Caledonian Canal, heading for Loch Ness.

There are two roads that encircle the Loch. General Wade's Military Road is the less traveled, a single-lane tarmac that follows the eastern banks of the Ness. As it reaches Fort Augustus at the Loch's southernmost tip, it connects with the A82, a busier two-lane highway that completes the circle along the western shores.

As Drumnadrochit lies on the western bank, about a third of the way down, I settled on the A82.