{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76756/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76756","id":"gutenberg_76756","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76756","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: History - Ancient","Category: History - British","Category: History - Medieval/Middle Ages","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Teaching & Education","Natural history -- Scotland -- Orkney","Orkney (Scotland) -- Description and travel","Orkney (Scotland) -- History"],"text":"_SONS OF THE ISLES._\n\n\n _There is a spell woven by restless seas,_\n _A secret charm that haunts our Island air,_\n _Holding our hearts and following everywhere_\n _The wandering children of the Orcades;_\n _And still, when sleep the prisoned spirit frees,_\n _What dim void wastes, what strange dark seas we dare,_\n _Till where the dear green Isles shine low and fair_\n _We moor in dreams beside familiar quays._\n\n _Sons of the Isles! though ye may roam afar,_\n _Still on your lips the salt sea spray is stinging,_\n _Still in your hearts the winds of youth are singing;_\n _Though in heavens grown familiar to your eyes_\n _The Southern Cross is gleaming, for old skies_\n _Your hearts are fain and for the Northern Star._\n\n DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON\n (_\u201cChambers\u2019s Journal.\u201d By permission._)\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: _\u201cThe wonder and the glory of all the North\u201d (p. 69)._]\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n The\n Orkney Book\n\n Readings for Young Orcadians\n\n Compiled and Edited by\n John Gunn, M.A., D.Sc.\n Author of \u201cSons of the Vikings,\u201d \u201cThe Boys of\n Hamnavoe,\u201d etc.\n\n Thomas Nelson & Sons, Ltd.\n London, Edinburgh, and\n New York\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThis is a book about Orkney, for use in Orkney, designed and for the most\npart written by natives of Orkney. It owes its origin to the Edinburgh\nUniversity Orcadian Association, the members of which realized the\ndesirability of preparing for use in the schools of Orkney a book adapted\nto the special conditions of the Islands.\n\nEducationists now recognize that Knowledge ought, like Charity, to \u201cbegin\nat home:\u201d this is true of every branch of knowledge\u2014history, geography,\nliterature, and the rest. They might even adopt with an educational\nreference the saying of the wise man, \u201cWisdom is before him that hath\nunderstanding; but the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth.\u201d An\nattempt has accordingly been made in this book to present to the young\nfolks of Orkney a general view of their homeland, some description of\nits past and its present, and some knowledge of its naturalistic and its\nhumanistic aspects, with the object of awakening their interest in their\nown Islands, in order that from this centre their knowledge may advance\nthe more surely to the sweep of a wider horizon. For, like Charity again,\nwhile Knowledge must begin at home, it must not remain at home.\n\nWhile the scope of the book is wide, the treatment of each class of\nsubjects is necessarily suggestive rather than exhaustive. All that\nis possible within the limits of a single small volume is to present\nillustrative specimens rather than a complete collection of studies.\nHence there is abundant opportunity for the teacher to supplement\nthe book by specializing in one direction or in another according to\nindividual preference. The aim has been rather to supply the irreducible\nminimum, suitable to all, in the hope that the book may find its way into\nevery school in the county, and be read by every Orkney boy and girl\nbefore their schooldays are over.\n\nThe Committee of the Edinburgh University Orcadian Association who have\nsuperintended the issue of the book acknowledge gratefully the courtesy\nwith which copyright material has been placed at their disposal. They\nwish to record their obligations to the Controller of His Majesty\u2019s\nStationery Office, to Messrs. J. M. Dent and Co., Messrs. Longmans,\nGreen, and Co., Messrs. Macmillan and Co., Messrs. W. and R. Chambers,\nand the Walter Scott Publishing Company, for the use of the extracts to\nwhich their names are respectively appended, and to Messrs. Thomas Nelson\nand Sons for much copyright material, including numerous illustrations.\nThey also desire to express their thanks to the Honourable Mrs. John\nDundas of Papdale, and to Messrs. Duncan J. Robertson, J. Storer\nClouston, and Edmund Selous for literary contributions which are in\nthemselves sufficient to give a high value to the collection, as well as\nto place on record their indebtedness to the late Mr. James Tomison for\nthe article on \u201cThe Birds of Sule Skerry.\u201d\n\nThe matter contained in the unsigned articles has been contributed by\nmany Orcadians, specialists in their several departments, whose names are\nsufficient guarantee for accuracy\u2014Messrs. James W. Cursiter, F.S.A.Scot.,\nfor Arch\u00e6ology, including illustrations; James Drever, M.A., for Norse\nhistory and language; John Tait, M.D., D.Sc., for Zoology; John S. Flett,\nM.A., D.Sc., for Geology; Magnus Spence, F.E.I.S., for Meteorology and\nBotany; John Garrioch, M.A., for Seaweeds; John W. Bews, M.A., B.Sc., and\nGeorge W. Scarth, M.A., for botanical and descriptive material; Robert C.\nWallace, M.A., B.Sc., for descriptive material; and John Gunn (Kirkwall)\nfor the list of Orkney birds in the Appendix.\n\nAs regards the artistic features of the book, special acknowledgment is\ndue to Messrs. Thomas Kent, for his generosity in placing at the disposal\nof the Editor the whole of his unique collection of Orkney views, all\nthe photographs reproduced being from his studio, with three or four\nexceptions; T. Marjoribanks Hay, R.S.W., for his drawing of St. Magnus\nChurch, Egilsay; Stanley Cursiter, for the decorative initial letters,\nthe title-page, and the cover design; and Miss Rose Leith, for the border\ndesigns of the grouped photographs; and to J. G. Bartholomew, LL.D., for\nthe two-page map of the county.\n\nFinally, the thanks of the Committee are due to the generous and\npatriotic friends, among whom special mention ought to be made of the\nGlasgow Orkney and Shetland Literary and Scientific Association, whose\ndonations of money have enabled them to produce this book, for a volume\nwhose circulation must necessarily be limited to a small area could\nbe issued at so low a price only on condition of the initial cost of\nmanufacture being met by those interested in its production.\n\nThe Editor, who must accept responsibility for the general scope and plan\nof the book, as well as for the actual form and part of the contents of\nthe unsigned articles, desires personally to acknowledge the valuable\nassistance he has received from the members of the Committee, especially\nDr. John Tait and Mr. James Drever, and from the other friends who have\nhelped by their sympathetic criticism and advice, to all of whom, as well\nas to himself, the work has been in every sense a labour of love; and\nhe ventures to express the hope that the results of that work, as here\nvisible, may find favour in the sight of all young Orcadians, and of many\nwho are no longer young.\n\n J. GUNN.\n\nEDINBURGH, 1909.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n Page\n\n Part I.\u2014The Story of the Past.\n\n Prehistoric Orkney, 9\n\n The Beginnings of our History, 18\n\n The Norsemen and their Sagas, 23\n\n The Beginning of the Earldom, 32\n\n The Dark Century, 40\n\n Earl Thorfinn and Earl Rognvald, 54\n\n The Slaying of Earl Magnus, 59\n\n The Founding of St. Magnus Cathedral, 67\n\n The Jorsalafarers, 74\n\n Sweyn Asleifson, the Last of the Vikings, 90\n\n The Decay of the Earldom and the End of the Western Kingdom, 97\n\n The Annexation to Scotland, 105\n\n Udal and Feudal, 110\n\n The Stewart Earls, 115\n\n The Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, 120\n\n Part II.\u2014The Isles and the Folk.\n\n A Survey of the Islands:\n On Wideford Hill, 129\n Among the North Isles, 134\n Among the South Isles, 146\n\n Round the Mainland:\n First Day, 154\n Second Day, 158\n Third Day, 166\n Fourth Day, 172\n\n Sketches by Hugh Miller:\n The Dwarfie Stone, 179\n The Standing Stones, 184\n\n The Cathedral of St. Magnus, 190\n\n A Road in Orcady, 206\n\n A Loch in Orcady, 219\n\n Among the Kelpers, 227\n\n A Whale-hunt in Orkney, 242\n\n Articles made of Straw, 248\n\n The Weather of Orkney, 255\n\n The Place-Names of Orkney, 263\n\n Part III.\u2014Nature Lore.\n\n The Story of the Rocks:\n \u201cSermons in Stones,\u201d 271\n \u201cBooks in the Running Brooks,\u201d 276\n Cliffs and Beaches, 284\n The Age of Ice, 289\n Orkney Fossils, 292\n\n A Peat-Moss, 296\n\n Some Common Weeds, 305\n\n Home Life on the Rocks:\n Guillemots, 312\n Seals, 317\n Shags, 320\n\n The Birds of Sule Skerry, 328\n The Residenters, 330\n The Regular Visitors, 334\n Occasional Visitors, 346\n\n Common Seaweeds, 352\n\n Crabs, 361\n\n Hoppers and Sholties, 372\n\n Sea-Anemones, 378\n\n Part IV.\u2014Legend and Lay.\n\n The Old Gods, 383\n\n A Vanishing Island, 391\n\n Helen Waters: a Legend of Sule Skerry, 396\n\n A Legend of Boray Island, 403\n\n Songs of the Gods:\n The Challenge of Thor, 408\n Tegner\u2019s Drapa, 409\n\n The Song of Harold Harfager, 412\n\n King Hacon\u2019s Last Battle, 414\n\n The Death of Haco, 416\n\n The Old Man of Hoy, 420\n\n Orkney, 422\n\n Scenes from \u201cThe Buccaneer\u201d:\n Night; Morning, 430\n\n To Orkney, 432\n\n The Temple of Nature, 433\n\n Appendices.\n\n Appendix I.\u2014Chronology of Orcadian History to the End of the\n Earldom, with Related Contemporary Events, 435\n\n Appendix II.\u2014Norse Words in Orkney Place-Names, 439\n\n Appendix III.\u2014List of Birds found in Orkney, 441\n\n Appendix IV.\u2014Books for Further Study, 443\n\n\n\n\nTHE ORKNEY BOOK.\n\n\n\n\nPart I.\u2014The Story of the Past.\n\n\n\n\nPREHISTORIC ORKNEY.\n\n\nAt what period of the world\u2019s history were our islands first inhabited,\nand who were their first inhabitants? These are questions which we cannot\nnow answer. History is always made before it is written, and long ages\nmust have passed in the history of these islands before any written\nrecords began to be kept.\n\nYet there are some records of that dim, forgotten past, which patient\nresearch has gathered together, and which can be made to tell us a few\nfragments of our Island story. If we look into one of the museums where\nrelics of the past are preserved, we may find such things as flint\narrow-heads and knives, stone axes and hammers, bronze spear-heads, and\nother tools and weapons of the early inhabitants of our islands. These\nsilent witnesses tell us a little about what manner of men they were, and\nhow they lived their long-forgotten lives.\n\nThe use of stone implements marks a very primitive stage of life, yet\none which may not be entirely savage. There are tribes now living which\nare still in their Stone Age. A recent traveller tells of having seen\nan inhabitant of the South American Andes skin a hare very neatly with\na small flint knife. This knife is now in Kirkwall, and is precisely\nsimilar to many which have been dug up in Orkney.\n\n[Illustration: _Flint Arrow-heads and Knives._]\n\nFlint is not a common stone in the Orkney Islands. It is found in\noccasional lumps and pebbles among the clay which has been carried from\nother places by the glaciers and icebergs of the Ice Age. Flint is common\nin the southern parts of Great Britain, however, and the arrows and\nknives found in our islands may have been brought from the south, or the\nart of making them may have been learned from tribes among whom flint was\na more common material. This kind of stone, the fine steel of the Stone\nAge, was used for small implements over a wide area of the world.\n\n[Illustration: _Stone Hammers and Axes._]\n\nOrkney must have had a large population in those early days. The\nnumber of ancient graves which have been found seems to indicate this,\nespecially if we suppose that most of those graves with their heaped-up\nmounds are the resting-places of chiefs and great men rather than of the\ncommon people. The graves which remain are of varied types, from the\nsimple cist of upright stones roofed with horizontal slabs and covered\nwith earth, to the large mound with its carefully built chambers.\n\nThe variety of the objects found in those graves, from the rudest flint\nand bone implements to those which are carefully finished, and finally\nto objects made of metal, shows that the burials belong to different\nperiods. They tell us of long ages of increasing though now forgotten\ncivilization. Some of the mounds, indeed, show by their contents that\nthey cover the remains, not of the original and unknown inhabitants,\nbut of the Norse conquerors, and thus really belong to the period whose\nhistory has come down to us in writing. But in the very mound where the\nNorse warrior was laid to rest, there are sometimes also found the relics\nof burials of a much ruder age. Such mingling of the materials of our\nunwritten history makes the story which they tell a very difficult one to\nread.\n\nThere are few remains in our islands more striking than the chambered\nmounds, or Picts\u2019 houses, as they are called. The most complete and\nprobably the most recent of them is that known as Maeshowe. They consist\nof a mound of earth heaped over a rude building, sometimes of one\napartment, but frequently of several, the entrance being a long, low,\nnarrow passage, through which it is necessary to stoop or crawl in order\nto gain an entrance.\n\nPossibly those Picts\u2019 houses were built at first as houses to dwell in,\nthough later used as tombs. It is not uncommon to-day to find buildings\nused for burial which were designed for other purposes. If ever our\nrace and all its records were to vanish as completely as the primitive\ninhabitants of the Orkney Islands have done, we can imagine some future\nexplorer of the ruins of St. Magnus Cathedral writing a learned treatise\nto prove that the largest building in our islands was erected as a\nburial-place for our dead.\n\nThose mound dwellings, or Picts\u2019 houses, may seem to us a very strange\nform of house to live in. Where can we find to-day houses of such a\ntype, and with so very inconvenient a form of entrance? The Eskimos, as\ntravellers tell us, are in the habit of building just such houses with\nblocks of snow, and they find this the best type in the extreme cold of\ntheir Arctic climate. Possibly the Picts\u2019 house type of dwelling was used\nin Orkney and in other places for similar reasons.\n\n[Illustration: _Polished Stone Celts._]\n\nThe brochs, or Pictish towers, as they are also called, are buildings\nof a different kind, which are also fairly common in Orkney. They are\nprobably of later date than the Picts\u2019 houses. Considerable skill,\nas well as co-operation in labour, must have been required for their\nerection.\n\nThe most complete broch in existence is that of Mousa in Shetland. Of\nthose which are found in Orkney, only the lower portions now remain. Over\nseventy such ruins have been examined, the best specimens being in Evie\n(Burgar), Birsay (Oxtro), Harray, Firth (Ingashowe and Stirlinghowe),\nSt. Ola (Birstane and Lingro), St. Andrews (Dingishowe and Langskaill),\nBurray (East and West Brough), South Ronaldsay (Hoxa), Shapinsay\n(Borrowston), and Stronsay (Lamb Head).\n\n[Illustration: _Plan of Chambered Mound, Wideford Hill._\n\n_b_, Entrance. _c_, Blind Passage.]\n\n[Illustration: _Chambered Mound, Wideford Hill._\n\nSection on line _a, a_ of plan.]\n\nThe typical broch is a large round tower, fifty or sixty feet in\ndiameter, and probably as much in height. The wall is about fifteen feet\nthick, and solid at the base, except for some vaulted chambers which are\nmade in it. Higher, the wall is hollow, or rather consists of an outer\nand an inner wall, with a space of four or five feet between them. This\nspace is divided into a number of stories or galleries by horizontal\ncourses of long slabs of stone, which form the roof of one story and the\nfloor of that above it, and at the same time bind the two walls firmly\ntogether. A stairway gives access to the various stories, and light is\nadmitted by small windows opening into the interior space of the tower,\nno windows being made in the outer wall. A single door in the lower wall\nforms the only entrance to the inner court of the broch.\n\nThese towers were probably constructed for the purpose of defence, and\nagainst a primitive enemy they would serve as well as did the castles of\na later age before the invention of gunpowder. Indeed, we read of the\nbroch of Mousa being actually used as a fort in the time of the Norsemen.\n\nWho the builders of these towers were we cannot discover. They are\nundoubtedly very ancient; yet their builders and occupiers were by no\nmeans savages. From the remains which have been found in them we learn\nthat they were used by a people who kept domestic animals, who cultivated\nthe ground, and who could spin and weave the wool of their flocks into\ncloth. No weapons of the Stone Age are found in the brochs.\n\n[Illustration: _Broch of Mousa, Shetland._\n\n1. Exterior. 2. Section. 3. Section with inner wall removed.]\n\nIt is certain that they were built, and that most of them may have fallen\ninto ruins, long before the Norsemen came. Many of the places where\nthey stand were named by those settlers from the broch which was found\nstanding there. The words _borg_, as in Burgar, and _howe_ (haug), as in\nHoxa (Haug\u2019s aith, or isthmus), are found in many place-names. It is\ncertain, too, that the brochs were not then occupied, or we should have\nfound some account of their siege and capture in the Sagas which tell of\nNorse prowess by land and sea.\n\nAnother type of ancient remains which is common in our islands is the\nstanding stones. These are found in many places, either singly or in\ngroups or circles. Regarding these relics of a distant past much has been\nwritten, but little is known.\n\n[Illustration: _The Stone Circle of Stenness as now Restored._]\n\nAn upright stone is the simplest and most effective form of monument, and\nis that which we most commonly use to this day to mark the resting-places\nof our dead. To the ancient Orcadian it was a matter of more difficulty\nto quarry and to transport and erect such monuments, and doubtless they\nwould be set up only in memory of some great event, such as a notable\nvictory, or the fall of a great chieftain.\n\nThe great stone circles, such as those of Stenness and of Brogar, are\nsupposed to have served a different purpose. They are believed by many\nto have been the temples of some primitive people, who met there to\nworship their gods. It has also been supposed that the people who erected\nthose circles were sun-worshippers, as the situation of certain prominent\nstones seems to have been determined by the position of the rising sun at\nmidsummer.\n\n[Illustration: _Fallen Cromlech or Table Stone, Sandwick._]\n\nBut in these matters we cannot be certain of our conclusions. Most of\nour great churches and cathedrals are placed east and west, with the\nhigh altar towards the east, and even the graves in our churchyards\nare usually similarly oriented; but this does not prove that we are\nsun-worshippers, whatever our forefathers may have been before they\naccepted Christianity. We may indulge in much speculation about them, and\nform our own opinions as to what they originally meant, but those hoary\nmonoliths remain a mystery, and the purpose of their erection we can only\nguess.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEGINNINGS OF OUR HISTORY.\n\n\nIn the history of the ancient world some vague and fragmentary references\nare made to our islands, but from these little real knowledge of them can\nbe gathered. As early as the time of Alexander the Great we come upon\nsome notices of certain northern islands, which must be either Orkney,\nor the Hebrides, or Shetland, or the Faroes, but we cannot determine\nwhich. The Ph\u0153nicians, who were the great sea-traders and explorers of\nthe early world, seem to have had a little knowledge of these northern\narchipelagoes.\n\nIn the time of the Roman occupation of Britain we have definite mention\nof the Orcades, but nothing which shows any real knowledge of them. They\nwere visited by the fleet of Agricola after his invasion of Scotland,\nas recorded by Tacitus. About three centuries later, the poet Claudian\nsings of a victory by the Emperor Theodosius, who, we are told, sprinkled\nOrcadian soil with Saxon blood. We are not told, however, who the people\ncalled Saxons really were, or whether they were the inhabitants of the\nislands or not. They may have been early Viking raiders who had fled\nhither and been brought to bay among the group.\n\nEarly Church history has also some references to Orkney. After\nSt. Columba had left the shores of Ireland to carry the message\nof Christianity to the Picts and Scots in Scotland, another Irish\nmissionary, Cormac, went on a similar voyage among the Orkney Isles. Him,\ntherefore, we may regard as the apostle to the northern heathen. St.\nAdamnan, the biographer of St. Columba, tells the story, and the name of\nAdamnan himself is still commemorated in the name of the Isle of Damsay.\n\nAfter the visit of Cormac, the Culdee missionaries established themselves\nin various parts of Orkney, as the place-names given by the Norsemen\nshow. In several of these names we find the word _p\u00e1pa_, a form of\n_pope_, which was the name applied to the monks or clergy of the Culdee\nChurch. Like Columba himself, who made the little island of Iona his\nheadquarters, his followers seem to have preferred the seclusion of the\nsmaller islands. To this habit are due such names as _Papa Westray_ and\n_Papa Stronsay_. Other Church settlements have left their traces in names\nsuch as _Paplay_ and _Papdale_.\n\nAnother place-name which records an old-world mission station is that\nof _Deerness_. At first sight this name seems rather to indicate that\nabundance of deer were found there; and some writers tell us, by way of\nproving this, that deer\u2019s horns have been found in that parish. But as\ndeer\u2019s horns have also been found in many other places in the county,\nthe proof is not convincing. We must remember that the Norse invaders\nwere likely to name the place on account of its appearance from the\nsea. They may, of course, have noticed a chance herd of deer near the\ncliffs; but one thing is certain to have caught their eye\u2014the unusual\nsight of a building of stone on the Brough of Deerness. Some remains of\nthis building, and of a later one on the same site, still exist; and it\nwas long regarded as in some way a sacred place, to which pilgrimages\nwere made. This building was in fact one of those outposts of early\nChristianity\u2014a Culdee monastery. When the Norse invaders came, they\ndoubtless found it occupied by some of the Culdee clergy\u2014_diar_, as\nthey would be called by the strangers\u2014and so the headland was named the\nPriests\u2019 Cape, or Deerness.\n\nIt is quite possible that deer existed in Orkney down to the Norse\nperiod, but they were much more likely to be found in the hilly regions\nof the west Mainland, which was the earls\u2019 hunting-ground. We read of an\nEarl of Orkney going over to Caithness for the chase of the deer, which\nseems to suggest that they were then scarce, if not extinct, in Orkney.\n\nAmong the remains of the Culdee settlements which are still found are\nmonumental stones with Christian emblems inscribed on them, or with Irish\nOgham writing, and ancient bells, probably used in the churches. The\ncurious round tower which forms part of the old church of St. Magnus in\nEgilsay is of a type common only in Ireland. The name of that island is\nprobably derived from an earlier church which the Norsemen found there,\nand heard called by its Celtic name, _ecclais_. It has been supposed by\nsome that the name _Egilsay_ means Egil\u2019s Island, so called after some\nman named Egil; but the probability is that it meant the Church Island.\n\nAll that we can learn, then, from the ancient relics of its first\ninhabitants, and from the brief references to the islands by old\nhistorians, amounts to very little. We know that Orkney was thickly\ninhabited by some ancient people, living at first the primitive life\nwhich is indicated by the use of stone implements. We may suppose that\nthey had at one time a religion in some way connected with sun-worship.\nWe know that they built earth-houses somewhat like the snow-houses of\nthe Eskimos, many of which still remain, and that, in some cases at\nleast, these have been used as places of burial by later inhabitants.\nWe know that at one period strong circular towers were built, probably\nas fortresses, by a people of some degree of civilization. We know that\nin the time of St. Columba Christian missionaries or monks visited the\nislands, whose inhabitants were then probably of the race known as Picts,\nand whose chiefs are said to have been subject to the Pictish king of\nNorthern Scotland. Some at least of those Culdees we may suppose to have\nbeen hermits rather than missionaries, although they may have combined\nthe two characters. How many centuries of time are covered by these facts\nand suppositions we do not know, but they sum up all that can be said\nwith certainty regarding Orkney before the coming of the Norsemen.\n\nThere is one very curious fact about the beginnings of the Norse\nrecords: they make no mention whatever of any inhabitants being found in\nthe islands. The place-names afford evidence, as we have seen, of the\npresence of Culdee monks, but of other population there is no trace. The\nnew-comers seem to have settled as in an uninhabited land, each Viking\nselecting and occupying his land without let or hindrance.\n\nIf there had been a native population, and if these had been either\nexpelled or exterminated by the invaders, we should surely have been\ntold of it by the Saga writers, who would have delighted in telling such\na tale. It has accordingly been supposed that at the time of the Norse\nsettlement the islands were uninhabited save by the hermits of the Culdee\nChurch. When or how the former Pictish inhabitants disappeared it is\nimpossible to say. Possibly some early Viking raids, of which no history\nremains, had resulted in the slaughter of many and the flight of the\nrest to the less exposed lands south of the Pictland or Pentland Firth.\nWhatever the reason may be, the chapter of our Island history which opens\nwith the Norse settlement is in no way a continuation of anything which\ngoes before, but begins a new story.\n\n[Illustration: _Carved Stone Balls._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE NORSEMEN AND THEIR SAGAS.\n\n\nIt is late in the eighth century before the Northman or Norseman appears\non the stage of history. From the day when C\u00e6sar\u2019s victorious legions\nbrought the Gauls, the Germans, and the Britons under the sway of the\nimperial city, these nations of Western Europe are never again entirely\nlost to history. But Scandinavia and the countries round the Baltic\nremained unknown to Rome and to the world for long centuries afterwards.\n\u201cThere nature ends,\u201d one of the Roman writers has said, when speaking of\nthese northern lands. This brief yet expressive sentence well indicates\nhow completely outside the Roman world lay the countries which were the\ncradle of our race.\n\nThere is another side to all this, which we find it difficult to picture\nclearly in our minds. To the inhabitants of Scandinavia and the lands\nround the Baltic, the southern parts of Europe were equally unknown. We\nfind in a Scandinavian writer of the ninth century a description of an\nexpedition which was made by one of the Viking chiefs to this unknown\nworld. In the course of his travels he came upon a city which to the\nNorseman seemed mysterious and dread\u2014a city of Niflheim, the under-world.\nThis city, as we learn from contemporary Western writers, must have been\nParis. Paris, now the gay capital of Europe, and even then a city of\nimportance and of fame, was so unknown to the Norsemen of the early ninth\ncentury that it was deemed a part of Niflheim, the under-world!\n\nDuring the period when the northern nations were hidden from the eye of\nhistory, many changes must have been going on among them. The building\nand management of ships could not have been learned in a day, and even\nwhen we first catch sight of the Norsemen they were the finest and\nmost daring seamen in the world, and their ships probably the most\nperfect hitherto seen. Many voyages among their own islands and in the\nBaltic must have preceded the longer voyages to Britain, to Iceland, to\nGreenland, and to America. Numerous wars there must have been, quite\nunknown to history, before the northern warrior became the terrible\nfighter of the Viking Age.\n\nWe can imagine the delighted wonder with which the northern warriors\nfirst gazed upon the rich and fertile shores of South-Western Europe.\nWe can imagine how they contrasted the fair fields and great cities of\nthe south with the bleak and sterile shores of the north from which they\ncame. What motives first led to their leaving their native shores it is\ndifficult to say. Thirst for adventure, the pinch of poverty at home, the\ndesire of possessing gold and treasure, all conspired to make them seek\ntheir fortunes in the wide and unknown lands which lay beyond the sea.\nWhen the first adventurers brought home accounts of the lands which they\nhad seen\u2014the fruitful fields, the great cities, the rich merchandise,\nand the yellow gold\u2014great numbers of their fellow-countrymen would be\nseized with a longing to visit those wonderful shores where wealth was\nto be had for the taking. The roving spirit once roused spread rapidly\nover the northern lands. The storm of Viking fury burst on the lands of\nWestern Europe almost without warning.\n\nIn the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, under the date A.D. 787, we read: \u201cIn this\nyear King Beorhtric took Eadburh, King Offa\u2019s daughter, to wife. And in\nhis days first came three ships of Northmen from Haerethaland, and the\nreeve rode down to them and would drive them to the king\u2019s _vill_, for\nhe knew not what men they were, and they there slew him. These were the\nfirst ships of Danish men that sought the land of the English.\u201d Thus we\nread of the first mutterings of the storm which was so soon to burst on\nthe coasts of Western Europe. During the succeeding two centuries and a\nhalf the English learned to know well what men these were who came out of\nthe wild north-east. The monks\u2019 litany, \u201cFrom the fury of the Northmen\ndeliver us, O Lord!\u201d tells us what _they_ thought of them.\n\n[Illustration: EXPEDITIONS AND SETTLEMENTS OF THE NORSEMEN]\n\nWe can trace two distinct roads which the Viking raids followed. One,\ntraversed chiefly by the Danes, led along the shores of Northern Europe\nto England, the English Channel, France, Spain, and the Mediterranean;\nthe other, traversed chiefly by the Norsemen, led straight across the\nNorth Sea to the Orkneys, thence along the west coast of Scotland, to\nIreland and the west of England. The islands lying off the coasts of\nScotland, England, Ireland, and France were seized by the invaders, and\nfrom these as bases their raids extended far and wide. Monasteries\nfelt the utmost fury of their attacks, for there they knew they would\nfind abundance of spoil. At first the invaders confined themselves to\nplundering expeditions. The Norsemen early turned their attention to\nsettlement and commerce; the Danes, on the other hand, remained for a\nlonger period intent on plunder alone.\n\nCivil wars in Western Europe had rendered the nations there incapable\nof effective resistance to the ruthless invaders. The Vikings descended\nnow at one point, now at another. When they met with a more stubborn\nresistance than usual, they merely retired to their ships with whatever\nplunder they had seized, and sailed away to make an attack somewhere\nelse. They wintered on the islands which they had seized, and as soon as\nspring was come they descended once more on the devoted lands. Ireland\nsuffered severely at their hands. The Orkneys and the Hebrides became\nnests of Vikings; in fact, colonies of them must have been established\nthere at a very early date. In these islands they were safe from all\ninterference\u2014a law to themselves; for as yet there was no arm in Europe\nlong enough and strong enough to reach them. Nowhere could a more\nconvenient base have been found for Viking raids on the British and Irish\nshores.\n\nThe first half-century of the Viking Age saw the Danes settled merely in\noutlying parts of the east coast of England. The Norsemen, on the other\nhand, had already seized on Orkney, Shetland, the Hebrides, and large\ntracts of Eastern Ireland. The first fifty years of the Viking Age may be\ncalled the first period of Norse colonization in the west.\n\nIt would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that the Norsemen were\nmerely turbulent sea-robbers, or that the only result of their migrations\nwas to hinder the progress of civilization in Western Europe. As settlers\nin other countries, they brought new strength and vitality to the land\nof their adoption; but instead of remaining separate colonies, they were\nsoon absorbed into the native population, and had no further history of\ntheir own.\n\nYet there were two great settlements abroad which left a deep mark on\nEuropean history. The one was the colonization of the north of France,\nafterwards called Normandy. There the Norsemen soon adopted the language\nand the religion of the country, but retained so much of their native\ncharacteristics that the subsequent Norman Conquest of England may be\nregarded as really a Norse inroad of a specially successful type. The\nother settlement was that in the south of Italy and Sicily, later known\nas the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, which occupied an important place in\nhistory during the Middle Ages.\n\nEven the British settlements for the most part had only a brief period\nof separate history, and soon became merged into the general stream of\nnational life. In Orkney and Shetland, however, where there was probably\nno native population at the time of the Norse invasion, the colony\ndeveloped along its own special lines, and has left behind it a history\nwhich for centuries remained distinct from that of the rest of Great\nBritain.\n\nThe history of the Orkney Islands during the period of the Norse\noccupation is preserved for us in the Icelandic _Sagas_. Iceland was one\nof the earliest and most important Norse colonies, and there the old\nNorthern language was preserved better than anywhere else. The Sagas are\nstories which, in the times of long ago, were told around the fires in\nIceland and other Norse colonies to while away the long winter evenings.\nAt festivals and merry-makings, during long voyages, or by the winter\nfireside, the Norseman listened eagerly to the recital of deeds done by\nhis kinsmen in other times and in other lands. Storytelling was a popular\npastime, and the man who knew many Sagas was ever a welcome guest.\n\nMany of the Sagas have now been translated into English, and all of\nthese are well worth reading. The greatest of all the Sagas is generally\nthought to be the Saga of Burnt Njal. It is one of the noblest stories\nto be found in any language, and it is besides nobly told. In this Saga\nwe find the best account of the great battle of Clontarf. Among the\nother great Sagas are the Saga of the Settlers on the Ayre, the Saga of\nLaxdale, the Saga of Egil the son of Skallagrim, the Saga of Grettir the\nStrong, and the Saga of the Volsungs. The two last are mythical Sagas;\nthey do not tell of real historical personages, but are paraphrases of\nold songs and legends which have come down from a more distant past. The\nAnglo-Saxon Saga of Beowulf tells some of the same stories, and is not a\nreal Saga in the sense of a true story told by the fireside.\n\nThe stories of the earls and chiefs of Orkney form part of the great\nstore of Saga literature, and these have come down to us in the form\nof the \u201cOrkneyinga Saga.\u201d It must be remembered, however, that this is\nmerely the summary of a great number of stories which had been told long\nbefore by men who had no doubt taken part in the events related. It was\na Saga-man\u2019s pride to tell the truth\u2014at least as it was told to him\u2014and\nso we may in the main rely on the Orkney Saga as a true account of events\nwhich happened, although sometimes it may be exceedingly difficult to\nassign the correct dates. The Orkney Saga is not usually reckoned among\nthe great Sagas. It partakes more of the nature of a general history than\nof a single and complete story. This Saga is the chief source of our\nknowledge of the history of our islands during Norse times.\n\nThe Orkney Saga consists of several parts, each of which might be\ncalled a separate Saga\u2014the Earls\u2019 Saga, Magnus\u2019s Saga, and Rognvald\u2019s\nSaga. The first relates the history of Orkney from its conquest by King\nHarald Fairhair of Norway down to the death of Earl Thorfinn, about the\ntime of the Norman Conquest of England. The second relates the lives\nof Thorfinn\u2019s sons, Paul and Erlend, but more especially of the holy\nEarl Magnus, of his murder, and of the wonderful things that happened\nafterwards through his holiness. The third part tells of the earls after\nSt. Magnus, chiefly Earl Rognvald the Second, and the great Viking, Sweyn\nAsleifson of Gairsay, generally known as \u201cthe last of the Vikings.\u201d The\nwhole history given in the Orkney Saga includes the events of the three\ncenturies from 900 to 1200.\n\nIn addition to what we learn from the Orkney Saga, we glean a few facts\nabout the history of our islands from other Sagas, such as the Sagas of\nthe Kings of Norway, usually called the \u201cHeimskringla.\u201d There are also\nmany Norse poems which scholars say must have been written in Orkney, or\nin some other of the western Norse colonies, and from these we can learn\nmuch about the life of the people, their thoughts, and their beliefs,\nthough very little about the actual history of the islands. We do not\nknow who were the authors of these poems, but some of them were really\ngreat poets, greater, perhaps, than any then living in any other part of\nEurope.\n\nFinally, there are occasional glimpses of our Norse ancestors to be\ncaught in the pages of the chronicles and histories of the nations.\nUnfortunately, these references are so often distorted by fear or\nhatred, or so confused through scanty and imperfect knowledge, that they\nadd very little to what we already know from Norse records. One good\npurpose, indeed, they serve: they show that the Saga-men were in the main\ntruth-tellers, so that we can place reliance on their stories, even where\nthese are not found in the records of other nations. The Saga-men also\nfill up many gaps in the history of those countries which the Norsemen\nvisited, and thus they render our knowledge of the Viking Age more\ncomplete, more detailed, and more accurate, even as regards countries\nwhich were to them foreign lands.\n\n[Illustration: _Ancient Bronze Spear-head; Horn Mounting still\npreserved._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEGINNING OF THE EARLDOM.\n\n\nBefore our story begins, Norway was divided into a number of small\nkingdoms. About the year 890 A.D. a king called Harald, who ruled\nover one of these small kingdoms, resolved to make himself master of\nall Norway. He made a vow that he would not cut his hair until he was\nacknowledged king throughout the whole country. This ambitious aim took\nsome time to accomplish, and as the years passed his thick locks grew\nlong and shaggy. Thus he got the name of Harald Shockhead.\n\nOne after another, however, he subdued the smaller kingdoms, compelling\nthe earls and chiefs to acknowledge him as their king, or to leave\nthe country. Then began what may be called the second period of Norse\ncolonization in the west. Many of the proudest and boldest of the\nNorsemen, deeming it a disgrace to serve a king who was at best only\ntheir equal, preferred to trust themselves and all their belongings to\nthe ocean, and take whatever fortune might await them.\n\nThose nobles who fled from Norway, regarding Harald as their enemy, soon\nbegan to spread terror along the shores of Norway itself, returning to\nplunder, and slay, and burn, as their fellow-countrymen had so often done\nin the west. Their chief haunts were among the Orkneys and the Hebrides.\nThither they betook themselves with their booty when winter came on.\nThere they lived and feasted all through the winter, and when spring\ncame they descended once more on the coasts of Norway. Ireland and the\nwest coast of England also suffered from these raiders, and in France a\ndetermined effort to conquer the country was at this time made by the\nNorsemen. Hrolf or Rollo, the Norseman, became master of the north of\nFrance, and gave to it a new name\u2014Normandy, the land of the Normans or\nNorsemen.\n\nThe last great effort made by these Norse nobles to break the power of\nKing Harald was foiled by their defeat at Hafursfrith. A great league had\nbeen formed against Harald. Vikings from over the sea crowded back to\nNorway to avenge their own injuries and to help their kinsmen. The two\nfleets met at Hafursfrith in the south of Norway, and a long and stubborn\nbattle ended in victory for Harald. This battle had far-reaching results.\nIt was the end of the struggle for independence in Norway. Harald was\nthen left free to turn his attention to the chastisement of the Vikings\nin the west. The result was the foundation of the Norse Empire in the\nwest, and the colonization of Iceland and Greenland by those Norsemen who\nstill scorned to own the sway of the Norwegian king.\n\nWith a large and splendidly equipped fleet, Harald swooped down on the\nVikings in Orkney and the Hebrides. Their resistance was feeble enough.\nSome yielded themselves to the king; others fled before him. Nowhere\nwas there anything like a pitched battle. As far south as the Isle of\nMan, Harald pursued his career of conquest. Turning north once more, he\nestablished Norse jarldoms or earldoms in Orkney and the Hebrides, to be\nsubject henceforth to the Norwegian crown. Then, considering that his vow\nwas fulfilled, Harald at last had his long hair cut, and was afterwards\nknown as Harald Fairhair.\n\nOne of Harald\u2019s chief friends and supporters was Rognvald, Earl of Moeri\nand Romsdal, who was called by the men of his time, \u201cThe mighty and wise\nin council.\u201d This Rognvald was the father of Rollo of Normandy. He had\nother sons named Ivar, Thorir, Rollaug, Hallad, and Einar, and he had\na brother called Sigurd. The family makes a very large figure in the\nhistory of those times. In one of Harald\u2019s battles in the west fell Ivar,\nRognvald\u2019s son. Harald assigned to Rognvald the newly created Jarldom of\nOrkney in order to compensate him in some measure for the loss of his\nson. But Rognvald had already large estates in Norway. He thought that\nthese were quite enough for one man to govern. Accordingly he handed over\nthe Orkneys to his brother Sigurd, who thus became the first Jarl or Earl.\n\nSigurd, the first Earl of Orkney, sometimes called Sigurd the Mighty,\nwas a strong and energetic ruler. When King Harald departed for Norway,\nthe earl at once began to strengthen himself in his new dominions. He\nfirst allied himself with Thorstein the Red, son of the Norse king of\nDublin, and with the Norsemen in the Hebrides, and then invaded Scotland\nin an attempt to add to his earldom Caithness and Sutherland. The Scots\nnaturally offered a determined resistance. Their leader was Maelbride\nor Melbrigda\u2014called Melbrigda Tusk because he had a large projecting\ntooth\u2014Earl or Maormor of Ross.\n\nAfter the war had lasted for some time, the two earls agreed to meet and\nsettle their quarrel, each taking forty men with him. On the day fixed\nfor the meeting, Sigurd, suspecting, as he said, the good faith of the\nScots, mounted two men on each of his forty horses, and came thus to the\nplace appointed. As soon as the Norsemen appeared in sight, Melbrigda saw\nthat he had been trapped, and turning to his men, said, \u201cWe have been\nbetrayed by Sigurd, for I see two feet on each horse\u2019s side. The men must\ntherefore be twice as numerous as the horses that bear them. Nevertheless\nlet us harden our hearts and sell our lives as dearly as we can.\u201d\n\nSeeing the Scots prepared to die hard in the place where they were,\nSigurd divided his force and attacked them at once in front and in flank.\nThe battle was fierce and bloody, but it ended in the total extermination\nof the small band of Scots. Sigurd, exulting over his fallen foe, cut\noff Melbrigda\u2019s head and fixed it to his saddle. On his way home, in\nspurring his horse his leg struck against the great projecting tooth\nwhich had given Melbrigda his nickname, and the tooth pierced his leg.\nBlood-poisoning followed, and a few days later Earl Sigurd died in great\npain on the banks of the Dornoch Firth. He was buried at a place now\ncalled Cyder Hall (Sigurd\u2019s Howe), near Skibo Castle.\n\nSigurd was succeeded in the earldom by his son Guttorm. Guttorm ruled the\nislands for one short and uneventful winter, and then died childless.\nFor some time the earldom was without a ruler. Vikings once more began\nto make the Orkneys their headquarters, and to harass the more peaceful\ninhabitants of the islands. When King Harald heard that the Orkneys\nwere without a ruler, he asked Earl Rognvald to make haste to send them\nanother earl. Rognvald then had the title of Earl of Orkney conferred on\nhis son Hallad, who sailed for the west as the third earl. But Hallad was\nweak and indolent. The western earldom was too turbulent and difficult\nto govern. He soon wearied of his dignity, and at last, deserting his\nearldom, went back to Norway. After his ignominious withdrawal from the\nearldom, the islands came under the rule of two Danish Vikings.\n\nAlthough Hallad preferred a simple farmer\u2019s life to an earl\u2019s dignity,\nthere were others of Rognvald\u2019s sons who were more ambitious. Einar\nespecially was eager to redeem the family honour by the expulsion of the\nVikings from the islands. Accordingly Einar was chosen as Earl of Orkney,\nand after King Harald had conferred on him the title, he set out for his\nearldom. The old Earl of Moeri had never regarded his youngest son with\nmuch favour, and, to tell the truth, neither desired to see the other\u2019s\nface again.\n\nEinar was the best and greatest of the early Norse earls. In appearance\nhe was tall and manly; his face was somewhat disfigured by the loss of an\neye, but in spite of this he was reputed to be very sharp-sighted. His\nfather had prophesied that Einar would never become a great chief; yet he\nbecame the most famous of all Earl Rognvald\u2019s sons, with the exception\nof Rollo of Normandy.\n\nThe earldom was in a state of great disorder when Einar arrived. The\nVikings had to be expelled, the government had to be settled and\nestablished, and the people had to learn to trust and obey their new\nearl. All these things were accomplished in a marvellously short space\nof time. The new earl also taught his people many useful arts. Wood was\nscarce: Einar knew that the people of Scotland used peat for fuel, and he\ntaught the Norsemen in the islands to do the same. From this he got the\nname of Torf-Einar.\n\nSoon a serious trouble arose. King Harald\u2019s sons had now grown up to be\nvery turbulent and overbearing men. They quarrelled with their father\u2019s\nchiefs and earls. Two of them, Halfdan Highleg and Gudrod Bright,\nattacked and slew Rognvald, Earl of Moeri. Harald was enraged that his\nsons should thus murder his best and most faithful counsellor and friend.\nHe marched against them with an army, and ordered them to be seized and\nbrought before him. Gudrod gave himself up to his father, but Halfdan\nseized a ship and sailed west to the Orkneys.\n\nHalfdan\u2019s sudden arrival in the earldom caused panic for a time. Einar\nwas quite unprepared for an invasion. He accordingly thought it wiser\nto escape to Caithness until he had time to collect his forces. In the\nmeantime Halfdan seized the government of the isles, taking the title\nof King of Orkney and Shetland. The same summer saw Einar back in the\nOrkneys with a fleet and an army to regain his earldom. The two fleets\nmet somewhere off the island of Sanday. A fierce battle took place, and\nHalfdan\u2019s force was practically annihilated. In the dusk of the evening\nhe himself leaped overboard and escaped.\n\nNext morning the shores were searched for fugitives. All who were found\nwere slain, but Halfdan himself had disappeared. While the search was\nstill proceeding, Einar was observed to stop suddenly and gaze across the\nsea towards the island of North Ronaldsay, or Rinansey, as it was then\ncalled.\n\n\u201cWhat see\u2019st thou, jarl?\u201d asked one of his companions. \u201cI know not what\nit is,\u201d was the reply. \u201cSometimes it appears to rise up, and sometimes\nto lie down. It is either a bird in the air or a man on the rocks, and I\nwill find out.\u201d\n\nThis object which the earl saw was Halfdan, who had probably just dragged\nhis weary limbs from the water, and was now struggling up over the rocks\nto the land. The earl\u2019s men pursued and captured him. He was at once\nbrought before the earl, who ordered him to be slain, to avenge his\nfather\u2019s murder, and as a sacrifice to Odin for the victory.\n\nAngry as King Harald had been because of the murder of Earl Rognvald, the\ndeath of his son at the hands of Rognvald\u2019s son was not likely to be very\nagreeable to him. Harald therefore determined to make a second expedition\nto the west.\n\nWhen Einar heard of Harald\u2019s intended visit to the Orkneys, he thought\nthat he would be safer out of the king\u2019s way, and accordingly he crossed\nthe Pentland Firth. Messengers went backwards and forwards between the\nking and the earl for a while, arranging terms of settlement. At length\nthe king demanded that the earldom should pay a fine of sixty marks. To\nthat Einar agreed, and King Harald Fairhair bade farewell to his western\ndominions for ever.\n\nIt was no easy matter for the Orkneymen to raise the sixty marks, and the\nearl called a Thing or council to discuss the matter. At length the earl\noffered to pay the whole fine himself, on condition that all the freehold\nor udal lands of the Orkneymen were handed over to him in pledge for the\namount that each had to pay, and to this the islanders agreed.\n\nIn this way the earl came into possession of all the udal lands in the\nOrkneys; and it was not till the time of Earl Sigurd the Stout, a century\nlater, that the udal rights were restored to the Orkneymen. Earl Einar\nspent the rest of his days in peace. The earldom was well ruled. Vikings\nwere afraid to plunder the dominions of so powerful a chief; and after\na long and honourable reign the good earl died on a sickbed\u2014what the\nVikings called a \u201cstraw death\u201d\u2014about the year 933.\n\n[Illustration: _Remains of a Viking Ship found in Sweden._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DARK CENTURY.\n\n\nThe tenth century may fittingly be called the dark century of Orcadian\nhistory. We know very little of it except occasional glimpses afforded\nby obscure references in the Sagas; and the little that we do know tells\nof treachery and bloodshed and murder to an extent unusual even in the\ntroubled annals of Orkney.\n\nAfter the death of Torf-Einar the earldom came into the hands of his\nthree sons, Thorfinn\u2014usually called Thorfinn Skull-splitter\u2014Arnkell, and\nErlend. The disturbed state of Norway, consequent on the death of Harald\nFairhair about the year 945, caused turmoil and confusion throughout all\nthose lands which had been conquered and settled by the Norsemen. Harald\nleft behind him a brood of wild, reckless sons, each of whom thought he\nhad a right to a share of his father\u2019s dominions. They filled the whole\nland with turbulence and bloodshed.\n\nEric Bloody-axe had been Harald\u2019s favourite son, and he at first took\nover the chief rule in Norway. He was a brave and skilful warrior,\nbut passionate, avaricious, and treacherous in his disposition. The\nsame qualities were possessed in an even greater degree by his queen,\nGunnhilda. Their deeds of violence soon estranged the hearts of their\nsubjects.\n\nHakon, Harald\u2019s youngest son, who had been brought up in England under\nthe care of King Athelstan, came to Norway to claim his share of his\nfather\u2019s dominions. Hakon was at this time only in his fifteenth year,\nbut he was daring and ambitious, and was the darling of the Norsemen both\nat home and abroad. Eric Bloody-axe and Gunnhilda were, on the other\nhand, regarded everywhere with hatred and detestation. When, therefore,\nHakon invaded Norway and attempted to wrest the sovereignty from the\nhands of his elder brother, the latter was deserted by his people and was\nforced to flee from the country.\n\nEric crossed first to Orkney, where he gathered a band of followers as\nreckless as himself, and then held on to England and began to ravage\nthe land in the usual Viking fashion. Close friendship had long existed\nbetween Athelstan and Harald Fairhair. Athelstan professed similar\nfriendship for Harald\u2019s sons, and now offered Eric the lordship of\nNorthumbria. Eric was not so foolish as to reject this offer. Gunnhilda\nand he with their family abode in peace in Northumbria for about a year.\n\nWith the death of Athelstan fortune began once more to frown upon the\nexiled king. King Edmund thought it by no means desirable that the\nNorsemen should hold so large a portion of his kingdom. Knowing the\ninsecurity of his tenure, Eric\u2019s reckless spirit flashed at once into\nopen rebellion. He left Northumbria, sailed to Orkney, seized the Earls\nArnkell and Erlend, forced many other Orcadian chiefs to join him, and\nmade a Viking raid on the west coast of England. The raiders met with\nresistance and a battle was fought; in this battle fell Eric himself,\nboth the Orkney earls, and most of the other leaders.\n\nWhen news of this disastrous expedition reached Gunnhilda, who had\nremained with her family in Northumbria, she in turn embarked for Orkney.\nShe and her sons claimed the earldom, seized the taxes, and spread wrong\nand oppression over all the western colonies. For a short time the\nislands suffered the same misgovernment as Norway had already suffered at\nher hands. But war now broke out between Norway and Denmark. This seemed\nto afford her a chance of regaining the Norwegian crown, and Gunnhilda\nand her family sailed eastwards once more. Ragnhilda, her daughter,\nwas left behind in Orkney to continue for a time her mother\u2019s acts of\ntreachery and bloodshed.\n\nThere are few worse characters in history than Ragnhilda as depicted\nby the Saga. She seemed to have a mania for plots and murders. Married\nfirst to Arnfinn, one of the sons of Earl Thorfinn, she caused him to be\nmurdered at Murkle in Caithness, for no reason that we can find out, and\nthen married his brother Havard. On the death of his father Thorfinn,\nshortly afterwards, Havard became earl. He is known in history as Havard\nthe Harvest-happy, because during his time the islands were blessed\nwith good harvests. Havard also met his death at the instigation of\nhis wife. Ragnhilda persuaded Einar Oily-tongue, his nephew, to murder\nthe earl, promising to marry him and secure for him the earldom when\nthe deed was done. Einar set on Havard in Stenness, and slew him after\na hard struggle. But it was apparently no part of Ragnhilda\u2019s plan to\nmarry Einar Oily-tongue. She now professed the greatest indignation and\ngrief at the murder of Earl Havard, and called for vengeance on his\nmurderer. Einar Oily-tongue had a cousin, also called Einar. He in turn\nfell a victim to the wiles of Ragnhilda. By promising or at least hinting\nthat she would marry the man who avenged the murder of Earl Havard, she\nsucceeded in getting the second Einar to murder the first, and ended by\nmarrying Ljot, the third son of Earl Thorfinn, who was the real heir to\nthe earldom.\n\nThis was by no means the end of Ragnhilda\u2019s wickedness. Ljot had a\nbrother, Skuli, who was not at all satisfied that the former should have\nthe whole earldom. It was an easy matter to make trouble between the two\nbrothers. In the end Skuli left the islands for Scotland, and became Earl\nof Caithness and a vassal of the Scottish king. Bad feeling continued\nbetween the brothers, and was carefully fostered by Ragnhilda. Ultimately\nthey met in arms in Caithness, Skuli with a Scottish army, and Ljot with\nthe forces of the earldom. The Scots were defeated and Skuli slain.\n\nLjot now added Caithness to his earldom, but the Scots again and again\nstrove to reconquer it. Finally a great battle was fought at Skidmire in\nCaithness. The Norsemen gained the day, but the earl was fatally wounded.\nThere remained one son of Thorfinn Skull-splitter, named Hlodver, who now\nbecame earl over an earldom exhausted and impoverished by twenty years\nof misgovernment and bloodshed, and embroiled in an arduous struggle with\nScotland for the possession of Caithness.\n\nThe Orkney earldom, however, was now on the eve of a great expansion.\nUnder the son and grandson of Hlodver, Sigurd the Stout and Thorfinn\nthe Mighty, the Norse dominion in the west attained its widest bounds,\nand the earldom of Orkney its greatest importance. For more than half a\ncentury, with little or no interference from Norway, the Orkney earls\nhelped to mould the history of Ireland and of Scotland; and until the\nunion of England and Denmark took place under Canute, the Norse Earls of\nOrkney were probably the most powerful chieftains in the British Isles.\n\nIt was in the time of Earl Sigurd that Christianity was first introduced\namong the Norse inhabitants of Orkney. Olaf, Tryggvi\u2019s son, King of\nNorway, had embraced the new faith, and his methods of promoting the\nreligion which he professed were characteristic of his time and race. The\nstory of the conversion of Earl Sigurd and his followers is thus given in\nthe Saga:\u2014\n\n\u201cOlaf, Tryggvi\u2019s son, sailed from the west to the Orkneys; but because\nthe Pentland Firth was not passable, he laid his ship up under the lee in\nOsmund\u2019s Voe, off Rognvald\u2019s Isle. But there in the voe lay already Earl\nSigurd, Hlodver\u2019s son, with three ships, and then meant to go a-roving.\nBut as soon as King Olaf knew that the earl was there, he made them\ncall him to come and speak with him. But when the earl came on board\nthe king\u2019s ship, King Olaf began his speech.\u201d (We pass over his long\nhistorical review of the establishment of the Orkney earldom and its\ndependence upon the kings of Norway, and give only his closing sentences.)\n\n\u201c\u2018Now, as so it is, Earl Sigurd, that thou hast come into my power, now\nthou hast two choices before thee, very uneven. One is that thou shalt\ntake the right faith and become my man, and allow thyself to be baptized\nand all thy undermen; then shalt thou have a sure hope of honour from me,\nand to have and to hold as my underman this realm, with earl\u2019s title and\nfull freedom as thou hast erewhile had it; and this over and above, which\nis much more worth, to rule in everlasting bliss with all-ruling God\u2014that\nis sure to thee if thou keepest all His commandments. This is the other\nchoice, which is very doleful and unlike the first\u2014that now on the spot\nthou shalt die, and after thy death I shall let fire and sword ruthlessly\nrage over all the Orkneys, burn and brand homesteads and men, unless this\nfolk will have salvation and believe on the true God....\u2019\n\n\u201cBut when Earl Sigurd had heard so long and clever a speech of King Olaf,\nhe hardened his heart against him, and spoke thus: \u2018It must be told thee,\nKing Olaf, that I have firmly made up my mind that I will not and may\nnot and shall not forego that faith which my kinsmen and forefathers had\nbefore me: for I know no better counsel than they, and I know not that\nthat faith is better which thou preachest than this which we have now had\nand held all our lives.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd with that the king saw the earl so stiffnecked in his error, he\nseized his young son, whom the earl had with him, and who had grown up\nthere in the isles. This son of the earl the king bore forward on the\nprow and drew his sword, and made ready to cut off the lad\u2019s head, with\nthese words, \u2018Now mayst thou see, Earl Sigurd, that I will spare no man\nwho will not serve Almighty God, or listen to my exhortations and hearken\nto this blessed message; and for that I will now on this very spot slay\nthis thy son before thine eyes, with this same sword which I grasp,\nunless thou and thy men serve my God; for hence out of the isles will I\nnot go before I have forwarded and fulfilled this His glorious errand,\nand thou and thy son, whom I now hold, have taken on you baptism.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd in the strait to which the earl was now come, he chose the choice\nwhich the king would have, and which was better for him, to take the\nright faith. Then the earl was baptized, and all the folk in the Orkneys.\nAfter that Earl Sigurd was made after this world\u2019s honour King Olaf\u2019s\nearl, and held under him lands and fiefs, and gave him for an hostage\nthat same son of his of whom it was spoken before; he was called Whelp\nor Hound. Olaf made them christen the lad by the name of Hlodver, and\ncarried him away with him to Norway. Earl Sigurd bound with oaths all\ntheir agreement, and next after that Olaf sailed away from the Orkneys,\nbut set up there behind him priests to mend the folk\u2019s ways and teach\nthem holy wisdom; so they, King Olaf and Sigurd, parted with friendship.\nHlodver lived but a scanty time; but after that he was dead Earl Sigurd\nshowed King Olaf no service. He took to wife then the daughter of Malcolm\nthe Scot King, and Thorfinn was their son.\u201d\n\nSo does the Saga tell this dramatic tale; and we may notice that the\nearl\u2019s allegiance to the new faith was as fickle as his fidelity to the\nking, for a few years later we find him fighting in the ranks of the\nheathen against the Christian king, Brian of Ireland, under the shadow of\nhis raven banner, a flag endowed by his mother\u2019s spells with the twofold\nmagical power of ensuring victory to those who followed it, but death to\nhim who bore it.\n\nThe story of \u201cKing Brian\u2019s battle,\u201d or the battle of Clontarf, is one of\nthe most stirring in the old records, and we give it here as told by the\nSaga-man:\u2014\n\n\u201cThen King Sigtrygg [of Ireland] stirred in his business with Earl\nSigurd, and egged him on to go to the war with King Brian. The earl\nwas long steadfast, but the end of it was that he said it might come\nabout. He said he must have his mother\u2019s hand for his help, and be king\nin Ireland if they slew Brian. But all his men besought Earl Sigurd\nnot to go into the war, but it was all no good. So they parted on the\nunderstanding that Earl Sigurd gave his word to go; but King Sigtrygg\npromised him his mother and the kingdom. It was so settled that Earl\nSigurd was to come with all his host to Dublin by Palm Sunday.\n\n\u201cThen King Sigtrygg fared south to Ireland, and told his mother,\nKormlada, that the earl had undertaken to come, and also what he had\npledged himself to grant him. She showed herself well pleased at that,\nbut said they must gather greater force still. Sigtrygg asked whence this\nwas to be looked for. She said that there were two Vikings lying off\nthe west of Man; and they had thirty ships, and \u2018they are men of such\nhardihood that nothing can withstand them. The one\u2019s name is Ospak, and\nthe other\u2019s Brodir. Thou shalt fare to find them, and spare nothing to\nget them into thy quarrel, whatever price they ask.\u2019\n\n\u201cNow King Sigtrygg fares and seeks the Vikings, and found them lying\noutside off Man. King Sigtrygg brings forward his errand at once; but\nBrodir shrank from helping him until he, King Sigtrygg, promised him the\nkingdom and his mother, and they were to keep this such a secret that\nEarl Sigurd should know nothing about it. Brodir, too, was to come to\nDublin on Palm Sunday. King Sigtrygg fared home to his mother and told\nher how things stood. After that those brothers, Ospak and Brodir, talked\ntogether; and then Brodir told Ospak all that he and Sigtrygg had spoken\nof, and bade him fare to battle with him against King Brian, and said\nhe set much store on his going. Ospak said he would not fight against\nso good a king. Then they were both wrath, and sundered their band at\nonce. Ospak had ten ships and Brodir twenty. Ospak was a heathen, and\nthe wisest of all men. He laid his ships inside in a sound, but Brodir\nlay outside him. Brodir had been a Christian man and a mass-deacon by\nconsecration; but he had thrown off his faith and become God\u2019s dastard,\nand now worshipped heathen fiends, and he was of all men most skilled in\nsorcery. He had that coat of mail on which no steel would bite. He was\nboth tall and strong, and had such long locks that he tucked them under\nhis belt. His hair was black.\n\n\u201cIt so happened one night that a great din passed over Brodir and his\nmen, so that they all woke, and sprang up and put on their clothes. Along\nwith that came a shower of boiling blood. Then they covered themselves\nwith their shields, but for all that many were scalded. This wonder\nlasted all till day, and a man had died on board every ship. Then they\nslept during the day. The second night there was again a din, and again\nthey all sprang up. Then swords leapt out of their sheaths, and axes and\nspears flew about in the air and fought. The weapons pressed them so\nhard that they had to shield themselves; but still many were wounded,\nand again a man died out of every ship. This wonder lasted all till day.\nThen they slept again the day after. The third night there was a din of\nthe same kind. Then ravens flew at them, and it seemed to them as though\ntheir beaks and claws were of iron. The ravens pressed them so hard that\nthey had to keep them off with their swords, and covered themselves with\ntheir shields. This went on again till day, and then another man had died\nin every ship.\n\n\u201cThen they went to sleep first of all; but when Brodir woke up, he drew\nhis breath painfully, and bade them put off the boat, \u2018For,\u2019 said he, \u2018I\nwill go to see Ospak.\u2019 Then he got into the boat and some men with him.\nBut when he found Ospak he told him of the wonders which had befallen\nthem, and bade him say what he thought they boded. Ospak would not tell\nhim before he pledged him peace, and Brodir promised him peace; but Ospak\nstill shrank from telling him till night fell, for Brodir never slew a\nman by night.\n\n\u201cThen Ospak spoke, and said, \u2018When blood rained on you, therefore shall\nye shed many men\u2019s blood, both of your own and others. But when ye heard\na great din, then ye must have been shown the crack of doom, and ye\nshall all die speedily. But when weapons fought against you, that must\nforebode a battle. But when ravens pressed you, that marks the devils\nwhich ye put faith in, and who will drag you all down to the pains of\nhell.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen Brodir was so wrath that he could answer never a word. But he went\nat once to his men, and made them lay his ships in a line across the\nsound, and moor them by bearing cables on shore, and meant to slay them\nall next morning. Ospak saw all their plan. Then he vowed to take the\ntrue faith, and to go to King Brian and follow him till his death-day.\nThen he took that counsel to lay his ships in a line, and punt them along\nthe shore with poles, and cut the cables of Brodir\u2019s ships. Then the\nships of Brodir\u2019s men began to fall aboard of one another. But they were\nall fast asleep; and then Ospak and his men got out of the firth, and so\nwest to Ireland, and came to Kincora. Then Ospak told King Brian all that\nhe had learnt, and took baptism, and gave himself over into the king\u2019s\nhand. After that King Brian made them gather force over all his realm,\nand the whole host was to come to Dublin in the week before Palm Sunday.\n\n\u201cEarl Sigurd, Hlodver\u2019s son, busked him from the Orkneys, and Flosi\noffered to go with him. The earl would not have that, since he had his\npilgrimage to fulfil. Flosi offered fifteen men of his band to go on the\nvoyage, and the earl accepted them; but Flosi fared with Earl Gilli to\nthe Southern Isles. Thorstein, the son of Hall of the Side, went along\nwith Earl Sigurd, and Hrafn the Red, and Erling of Straumey. He would not\nthat Hareck should go, but said he would be sure to tell him first the\ntidings of his voyage. The earl came with all his host on Palm Sunday to\nDublin, and there, too, was come Brodir with all his host. Brodir tried\nby sorcery how the fight would go. But the answer ran thus, that if the\nfight were on Good Friday, King Brian would fall but win the day; but if\nthey fought before, they would all fall who were against him. Then Brodir\nsaid that they must not fight before the Friday....\n\n\u201cKing Brian came with all his host to the burg; and on the Friday the\nhost fared out of the burg, and both armies were drawn up in array.\nBrodir was on one wing of the battle, but King Sigtrygg on the other.\nEarl Sigurd was in the mid-battle. Now, it must be told of King Brian\nthat he would not fight on the fast-day, and so a shieldburg was thrown\nround him, and his host was drawn up in array in front of it. Wolf the\nQuarrelsome was on that wing of the battle against which Brodir stood.\nBut on the other wing, where Sigtrygg stood against them, were Ospak\nand his sons. But in mid-battle was Kerthialfad, and before him the\nbanners were borne. Now the wings fall on one another, and there was a\nvery hard fight. Brodir went through the host of the foe, and felled all\nthe foremost that stood there, but no steel would bite on him. Wolf the\nQuarrelsome turned then to meet him, and thrust at him twice so hard that\nBrodir fell before him at each thrust, and was well-nigh not getting on\nhis feet again. But as soon as ever he found his feet, he fled away into\nthe wood at once.\n\n\u201cEarl Sigurd had a hard battle against Kerthialfad, and Kerthialfad\ncame on so fast that he laid low all who were in the front rank, and\nhe broke the array of Earl Sigurd right up to his banner, and slew the\nbanner-bearer. Then he got another man to bear the banner, and there\nwas again a hard fight. Kerthialfad smote this man too his death-blow\nat once, and so on one after the other all who stood near him. Then\nEarl Sigurd called on Thorstein, the son of Hall of the Side, to bear\nthe banner, and Thorstein was just about to lift the banner. But then\nAmundi the White said, \u2018Don\u2019t bear the banner! for all they who bear it\nget their death.\u2019 \u2018Hrafn the Red!\u2019 called out Earl Sigurd, \u2018bear thou\nthe banner.\u2019 \u2018Bear thine own devil thyself,\u2019 answered Hrafn. Then the\nearl said, \u2018\u2019Tis fittest that the beggar should bear the bag;\u2019 and with\nthat he took the banner from the staff and put it under his cloak. A\nlittle after, Amundi the White was slain, and then the earl was pierced\nthrough with a spear. Ospak had gone through all the battle on his wing.\nHe had been sore wounded, and lost both his sons ere King Sigtrygg fled\nbefore him. Then flight broke out throughout all the host. Thorstein,\nHall of the Side\u2019s son, stood still while all the others fled, and tied\nhis shoestring. Then Kerthialfad asked why he ran not as the others.\n\u2018Because,\u2019 said Thorstein, \u2018I can\u2019t get home to-night, since I am at home\nout in Iceland.\u2019 Kerthialfad gave him peace....\n\n\u201cNow Brodir saw that King Brian\u2019s men were chasing the fleers, and that\nthere were few men by the shieldburg. Then he rushed out of the wood, and\nbroke through the shieldburg, and hewed at the king. The lad Takt threw\nhis arm in the way, and the stroke took it off and the king\u2019s head too;\nbut the king\u2019s blood came on the lad\u2019s stump, and the stump was healed\nby it on the spot. Then Brodir called out with a loud voice, \u2018Now man can\ntell that Brodir felled Brian.\u2019 Then men ran after those who were chasing\nthe fleers, and they were told that King Brian had fallen; and then they\nturned back straightway, both Wolf the Quarrelsome and Kerthialfad. Then\nthey threw a ring round Brodir and his men, and threw branches of trees\nupon them, and so Brodir was taken alive.... After that they took King\nBrian\u2019s body and laid it out. The king\u2019s head had grown to the trunk....\n\n\u201cThis event happened in the Orkneys, that Hareck thought he saw Earl\nSigurd, and some men with him. Then Hareck took his horse and rode to\nmeet the earl. Men say that they met and rode under a brae; but they were\nnever seen again, and not a scrap was ever found of Hareck.\u201d\n\n _From the \u201cNjala Saga,\u201d translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L.\n (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_\n\n[Illustration: _Ancient Bronze Weapons and Ornaments._]\n\n\n\n\nEARL THORFINN AND EARL ROGNVALD.\n\n\nEarl Sigurd, as has been mentioned, took as his second wife the daughter\nof Malcolm the Second, King of Scots. They had but one son, Thorfinn,\ncalled the Mighty, the greatest of his race, who became the most powerful\nof all the Orkney earls. When he was but five winters old Thorfinn was\nsent to his grandfather Malcolm to be brought up at the Scottish Court,\nand on his father\u2019s death he was made Earl of Caithness and Sutherland.\n\nEinar and Brusi, sons of Sigurd by his first wife, then ruled over the\nislands. Einar was ambitious and warlike, Brusi mild and peaceful. When\nthey shared the earldom between them, Brusi was content with a third\npart, while Einar took over the remainder; and so matters stood for a\ntime.\n\nWhen Thorfinn grew up to manhood, he was not content with his large\ndomains in Scotland. He put forward a claim to one-third of the Orkneys\nas his rightful share. Einar would have disputed the claim; but Brusi\nresigned his share to Thorfinn, and an agreement was made that when Einar\ndied his share should be handed over to Brusi. So peace was kept for the\ntime. But when Einar died, Thorfinn seized half of the whole earldom.\n\nBrusi was unable to resist the great power of Thorfinn, so he resolved to\ngo east to Norway, and ask Olaf the king to do justice between him and\nhis brother. Thorfinn also went to Norway to plead his own cause. King\nOlaf, unwilling to increase the power of a subject already too powerful,\ndecided in favour of Brusi. But when the two earls returned to the\nislands, Brusi found the task of ruling his dominions and defending them\nagainst the Vikings too heavy for him, and Thorfinn no doubt took care\nthat there should always be plenty of trouble for him to face.\n\nAt last Brusi was glad to hand over two-thirds of the earldom to\nThorfinn, on condition of his undertaking to defend the islands; and this\narrangement lasted till Brusi\u2019s death.\n\nIn the meantime, Rognvald, Brusi\u2019s son, had been growing up at the Court\nof Olaf, King of Norway, and he was a close friend of Magnus, Olaf\u2019s\nson, who afterwards became king. When Rognvald heard that Brusi, his\nfather, was dead, and that Earl Thorfinn had seized the whole earldom,\nhe prepared to fare westward and claim his share of the land. Thorfinn\nwas now the most powerful ruler in all the western lands. He had defeated\nthe Scots in a great sea-fight off Deerness; he had subdued the Western\nIsles; he had conquered great realms in Scotland; and he had made himself\nmaster of the half of Ireland.\n\nAt the time when Rognvald came to the Orkneys, however, Thorfinn had wars\non his hands in the Western Isles and in Ireland, and he was glad to\noffer Rognvald two-thirds of the islands in return for his friendship\nand his help. So for a time the two earls lived in friendship with each\nother.\n\nThen evil men made mischief between them, and Thorfinn demanded back the\nthird of the land which had belonged to Earl Einar. Rognvald refused,\nand sailed away to Norway to ask help from King Magnus. With a fleet\nof Norwegian ships he came back to Orkney, and was met in the Pentland\nFirth by the ships of Earl Thorfinn. Earl Rognvald\u2019s ships were fewer\nin number, but their larger size at first gave him the advantage. Earl\nThorfinn was hard pressed; but at last he persuaded his brother-in-law,\nKalf Arnesson, whose ships were lying by watching the fight, to come to\nhis aid and row against Rognvald. Then the tide of battle turned against\nEarl Rognvald, and only by the darkness of the night was he enabled to\nescape, and once more to find his way to Norway.\n\nAgain King Magnus came to his help; but this time Earl Rognvald tried\nto take Thorfinn by surprise, so he sailed away to Orkney in the dead\nof winter with only one ship. Before there was any news of his coming,\nhe surrounded the house where Earl Thorfinn was feasting, and set it on\nfire. Only the women and children were allowed to go free; but while the\nwarriors were in confusion, seeking some way of escape, the great earl\nbroke a hole through the side of the house where the smoke was thickest,\nand, carrying his wife, Ingibiorg, in his arms, he escaped in the\ndarkness to the seashore, took a boat, and rowed across to Caithness.\n\nNow it seemed that Rognvald\u2019s success was complete, for he thought\nthat Earl Thorfinn was surely dead. When Christmas-time was at hand, he\nprepared to hold a great feast at Kirkwall, and with some of his men\nhe took a ship to Papa Stronsay to bring over a cargo of malt for the\nbrewing. They stayed there for the night, and sat long over the fire\ntelling of all their adventures. Meanwhile, however, Earl Thorfinn had\ncome back from Caithness to seek revenge. In the darkness he and his men\nsurrounded the house where Earl Rognvald sat, and set it on fire. All\nexcept the earl\u2019s men were allowed to come out, being drawn over the pile\nof wood which Thorfinn\u2019s men had placed before the door.\n\nWhile this was being done, a man suddenly leaped over the pile, and over\nthe armed men beside it, and disappeared in the darkness.\n\n\u201cThat must be Earl Rognvald,\u201d cried Thorfinn, \u201cfor no one else could\ndo such a feat.\u201d Then they all ran to search for Earl Rognvald in the\ndarkness. The barking of his dog betrayed the earl\u2019s hiding-place to his\nenemies, and soon he was found and slain among the rocks upon the shore.\n\nNext morning Thorfinn and his men took Earl Rognvald\u2019s ship and sailed\nto Kirkwall. And when Rognvald\u2019s men who were in the town came, unarmed,\nexpecting to meet the earl, they were set upon by Earl Thorfinn\u2019s men,\nand thirty of them were slain. These men were of the bodyguard of King\nMagnus, and only one of them was allowed to go back to Norway to tell the\ntidings to the king.\n\nThen for eighteen years Thorfinn ruled the earldom, till the day of his\ndeath. He was by far the greatest of the Orkney earls. He built Christ\u2019s\nKirk in Birsay, and in his time the Bishopric of Orkney was founded.\nDuring his later years the islands enjoyed peace, and many wise laws were\nmade; and when the great earl died there was much sorrow in the Orkneys.\nSo the poet sings in his honour:\u2014\n\n \u201cSwarthy shall become the bright sun,\n In the dark sea shall the earth sink,\n Finished shall be Austri\u2019s labour,\n And the wild sea hide the mountains,\n Ere there be in these fair islands\n Born a chief to rule the people\u2014\n May our God both keep and help them\u2014\n Greater than the lost Earl Thorfinn.\u201d\n\nPaul and Erlend, the two sons of Thorfinn, succeeded to the earldom,\nand for some time they ruled in harmony together. They fought for King\nHarald Hardradi against Harold, Godwin\u2019s son, at the battle of Stamford\nBridge in Yorkshire in 1066, but were allowed to return in peace to\ntheir earldom. Trouble arose between the brothers when their sons grew\nto manhood, and Magnus Barefoot, King of Norway, made a descent upon the\nislands. He carried the two brothers into exile, appointing his own son\nSigurd as \u201cKing\u201d of Orkney, which post he held until his father\u2019s death\nmade him King of Norway. Hakon, Paul\u2019s son, and Magnus, Erlend\u2019s son,\nafterwards called St. Magnus, then became joint earls.\n\nTheir joint rule had the usual result, quarrels and misunderstandings,\nand was brought to an end by the murder of Earl Magnus in Egilsay in\n1115. The story is told in the Saga of Earl Magnus, from which the next\nchapter is taken.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SLAYING OF EARL MAGNUS.\n\n\n\u201cSt. Magnus, the isle earl, was the most peerless of men, tall of\ngrowth, manly, and lively of look, virtuous in his ways, fortunate in\nfight, a sage in wit, ready-tongued and lordly-minded, lavish of money\nand high-spirited, quick of counsel, and more beloved of his friends\nthan any man. Blithe and of kind speech to wise and good men, but hard\nand unsparing against robbers and sea-rovers, he let many men be slain\nwho harried the freemen and landfolk. He made murderers and thieves be\ntaken, and visited as well on the powerful as on the weak robberies and\nthieveries and all ill deeds. He was no favourer of his friends in his\njudgments, for he valued more godly justice than the distinctions of\nrank. He was open-handed to chiefs and powerful men, but still he ever\nshowed most care for poor men....\n\n\u201cThose kinsmen, Magnus and Hakon, held the wardship of the land for some\nwhile, so that they were well agreed.... But when those kinsmen had\nruled the land some time, then again happened, what often and always can\nhappen, that many ill-willing men set about spoiling their kinship. Then\nunlucky men gathered more about Hakon, for that he was very envious of\nthe friendships and lordliness of his kinsman Magnus.\n\n\u201cTwo men are they who are named, who were with Earl Hakon, and who were\nthe worst of all the tale-bearers between those kinsmen, Sigurd and\nSighvat Sock. This slander came so far with the gossip of wicked men,\nthat those kinsmen again gathered forces together, and each earl faced\nagainst the other with a great company. Then both of them held on to\nHrossey [the Mainland], where the place of meeting of those Orkneyingers\nwas. But when they came there, then each drew up his men in array,\nand they made them ready to battle. There were then the earls and all\nthe great men, and there, too, were many friends of both who did all\nthey could to set them at one again. Many then came between them with\nmanliness and good-will. This meeting was in Lent, a little before Palm\nSunday. But because many men of their well-wishers took a share in\nclearing up these difficulties between them, but would stand by neither\nto do harm to the other, then they bound their agreement with oaths and\nhandsels. And when some time had gone by after that, then Earl Hakon,\nwith falsehood and fair words, settled with the blessed Earl Magnus to\nmeet him on a certain day, so that their kinship and steadfast new-made\npeace should not be turned aside or set at naught. This meeting for a\nsteadfast peace and a thorough atonement between them was to be in Easter\nweek that spring on Egil\u2019s Isle [Egilsay]. This pleased Earl Magnus well,\nbeing, as he was, a thoroughly whole-hearted man, far from all doubt,\nguile, or greed; and each of them was to have two ships, and each just as\nmany men: this both swore, to hold and keep those terms of peace which\nthe wisest men made up their minds to declare between them.\n\n\u201cBut when Eastertide was gone by, each made him ready for this\nmeeting. Earl Magnus summoned to him all those men whom he knew to be\nkindest-hearted and likeliest to do a good turn to both those kinsmen.\nHe had two long-ships and just as many men as was said. And when he was\nready he held on his course to Egil\u2019s Isle. And as they were rowing in\ncalm over the smooth sea, there rose a billow against the ship which the\nearl steered, and fell on the ship just where the earl sat. The earl\u2019s\nmen wondered much at this token, that the billow fell on them in a calm\nwhere no man had ever known it to fall before, and where the water under\nwas deep. Then the earl said, \u2018It is not strange that ye wonder at this;\nbut my thought is, that this is a foreboding of my life\u2019s end, may be\nthat may happen which was before spoken about Earl Hakon. We should so\nmake up our minds about our undertaking, that I guess my kinsman Hakon\nmust not mean to deal fairly by us at this meeting.\u2019 The earl\u2019s men were\nafraid at these words, when he said he had so short hope as to his life\u2019s\nend, and bade him take heed for his life, and not fare further trusting\nin Earl Hakon. Earl Magnus answers, \u2018We shall fare on still, and may all\nGod\u2019s will be done as to our voyage.\u2019\n\n\u201cNow it must be told about Earl Hakon, that he summoned to him a great\ncompany, and had many war-ships, and all manned and trimmed as though\nthey were to run out to battle. And when the force came together, the\nearl makes it clear to the men that he meant at that meeting so to settle\nmatters between himself and Earl Magnus that they should not both of them\nbe over the Orkneys. Many of his men showed themselves well pleased at\nthis purpose, and added many fearful words; and they, Sigurd and Sighvat\nSock, were among the worst in their utterance. Then men began to row\nhard, and they fared furiously. Havard, Gunni\u2019s son, was on board the\nearl\u2019s ship, a friend and counsellor of the earl\u2019s, and a fast friend\nto both alike. Hakon had hidden from him this bad counsel, which Havard\nwould surely not join in. And when he knew the earl was so steadfast\nin this bad counsel, then he jumped from the earl\u2019s ship and took to\nswimming, and swam to an isle where no man dwelt.\n\n\u201cEarl Magnus came first to Egil\u2019s Isle with his company, and when they\nsaw Hakon coming they saw that he had eight war-ships; he thought he knew\nthen that treachery must be meant. Earl Magnus then betook himself up on\nthe isle with his men, and went to the church to pray, and was there that\nnight; but his men offered to defend him. The earl answers, \u2018I will not\nlay your life in risk for me, and if peace is not to be made between us\ntwo kinsmen, then be it as God wills.\u2019 Then his men thought that what he\nhad said when the billow fell on them was coming true. Now for that he\nfelt sure as to the hours of his life beforehand, whether it was rather\nfrom his shrewdness or of godly foreshowing, then he would not fly nor\nfare far from the meeting of his foes. He prayed earnestly, and let a\nmass be sung to him.\n\n\u201cHakon and his men jumped up in the morning, and ran first to the church\nand ransacked it, and did not find the earl. He had gone another way on\nthe isle with two men into a certain hiding-place. And when the saint\nEarl Magnus saw that they sought for him, then he calls out to them and\nsays where he was; he bade them look nowhere else for him. And when Hakon\nsaw him, they ran thither with shouts and crash of arms. Earl Magnus was\nthen at his prayers when they came to him, and when he had ended his\nprayers then he signed himself [with the cross], and said to Earl Hakon,\nwith steadfast heart, \u2018Thou didst not well, kinsman, when thou wentest\nback on thy oaths, and it is much to be hoped that thou doest this more\nfrom others\u2019 badness than thine own. Now will I offer thee three choices,\nthat thou do one of these rather than break thine oaths and let me be\nslain guiltless.\u2019\n\n\u201cHakon\u2019s men asked what offer he made. \u2018That is the first, that I will\ngo south to Rome, or out as far as Jerusalem, and visit holy places, and\nhave two ships with me out of the land with what we need to have, and so\nmake atonement for both of our souls. This I will swear, never to come\nback to the Orkneys.\u2019 To this they said \u2018Nay\u2019 at once. Then Earl Magnus\nspoke: \u2018Now seeing that my life is in your power, and that I have in many\nthings made myself an outlaw before Almighty God, then send thou me up\ninto Scotland to some of both our friends, and let me be there kept in\nward, and two men with me as a pastime. Take thou care then that I may\nnever be able to get out of that wardship.\u2019 To this they said \u2018Nay\u2019 at\nonce. Magnus spoke: \u2018One choice is still behind which I will offer thee,\nand God knows that I look more to your soul than to my life; but still\nit better beseems thee than to take my life away. Let me be maimed in\nmy limbs as thou pleasest, or pluck out my eyes, and set me in a dark\ndungeon.\u2019 Then Earl Hakon spoke: \u2018This settlement I am ready to take,\nnor do I ask anything further.\u2019 Then the chiefs sprang up and said to\nEarl Hakon, \u2018We will slay now either of you twain, and ye two shall not\nboth from this day forth rule the lands.\u2019 Then answers Earl Hakon: \u2018Slay\nye him rather, for I will rather rule the realm and lands than die so\nsuddenly.\u2019 So says Holdbodi, a truthful freeman from the Southern Isles,\nof the parley they had. He was then with Magnus, and another man with\nhim, when they took him captive.\n\n\u201cSo glad was the worthy Earl Magnus as though he were bidden to a feast;\nhe neither spoke with hate nor words of wrath. And after this talk he\nfell to prayer, and hid his face in the palms of his hands, and shed\nout many tears before God\u2019s eyesight. When Earl Magnus, the saint, was\ndone to death, Hakon bade Ofeig his banner-bearer to slay the earl, but\nhe said \u2018Nay\u2019 with the greatest wrath. Then he forced Lifolf his cook\nto kill Earl Magnus, but he began to weep aloud. \u2018Thou shalt not weep\nfor this,\u2019 said the earl, \u2018for that there is fame in doing such deeds.\nBe steadfast in thine heart, for thou shalt have my clothes, as is the\nwont and law of men of old, and thou shalt not be afraid, for thou doest\nthis against thy will, and he who forces thee misdoes more than thou.\u2019\nBut when the earl had said this he threw off his kirtle and gave it to\nLifolf. After that he begged leave to say his prayers, and that was\ngranted him.\n\n[Illustration: _Church of St. Magnus, Egilsay._\n\n_(From a painting by T. Marjoribanks Hay, R.S.W.)_]\n\n\u201cHe fell to earth, and gave himself over to God, and brought himself as\nan offering to Him. He not only prayed for himself or his friends, but\nrather there and then for his foes and banemen, and forgave them with\nall his heart what they had misdone towards him, and confessed his own\nmisdeeds to God, and prayed that they might be washed off him by the\noutshedding of his blood, and commended his soul into God\u2019s hand, and\nprayed that God\u2019s angels would come to meet his soul and bear it into\nthe rest of Paradise. When the friend of God was led out to slaughter he\nspoke to Lifolf: \u2018Stand thou before me, and hew me on my head a great\nwound, for it beseems not to chop off chiefs\u2019 heads like thieves\u2019.\nStrengthen thyself, wretched man, for I have prayed to God that he may\nhave mercy upon thee.\u2019 After that he signed himself [with the cross], and\nbowed himself to the stroke. And his spirit passed to heaven.\n\n\u201cThat spot was before mossy and stony. But a little after, the worthiness\nof Earl Magnus before God was so bright that there sprung up a green\nsward where he was slain, and God showed that, that he was slain for\nrighteousness\u2019 sake, and inherited the fairness and greenness of\nParadise, which is called the earth of living men.... There had then\npassed since the birth of Christ one thousand and ninety and one winters.\u201d\n\n _From the \u201cOrkneyinga Saga,\u201d translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L.\n (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOUNDING OF ST. MAGNUS CATHEDRAL.\n\n\nAfter the death of Hakon, the slayer of Earl Magnus, the earldom was\ndivided between his two sons, Harald the Smooth-talker, and Paul the\nSpeechless. There were many bitter quarrels between the brothers, until\nthe death of the former left Paul as sole ruler. That happened in this\nwise.\n\nWhen they had been reconciled after one of their quarrels, Harald invited\nPaul to a feast in his house at Orphir. On the morning before the feast,\nEarl Harald found his mother and his aunt working at a very beautiful\nshirt, which, they said, was a present for his brother Paul.\n\n\u201cWhy should such a splendid garment be given to Paul and not to me?\u201d\nasked the earl, taking it up in his hand to look at it. Then before the\nwomen could prevent him, he threw off the light cloak he was wearing and\nput on the gorgeous shirt. No sooner had it touched his skin than he was\nseized with violent pains, and with a sickness of which he died a few\ndays later. The shirt had been poisoned in order to cause Earl Paul\u2019s\ndeath, but it was Earl Harald who fell a victim to his mother\u2019s cunning\nand treacherous design.\n\nEarl Paul did not long reign in peace. A new claimant soon appeared for\npart of the lands. This was Kali, the son of Kol and of Gunhild, the\nsister of the murdered St. Magnus, who had been brought up at the court\nof King Harald of Norway. He was a man of noble appearance, bold and\nskilful in war, and a born leader of men. He was in addition a noted\nskald or poet, and many of the songs which he made have come down to us\nin the Sagas.\n\nHe now changed his name to Rognvald, which had been a popular name in the\nisles since the days of Rognvald, Brusi\u2019s son, and he is known in history\nas Rognvald Kali, or Rognvald the Second.\n\nHaving the promise of help from Harald, the Norwegian king, Rognvald\nsent a message to Earl Paul, demanding that share of the islands which\nEarl Magnus had held. Earl Paul, who was a good ruler, and had many\nfriends among the Orkneymen, replied that he would guard his inheritance\nwhile God gave him life. Rognvald then gathered ships and set sail for\nShetland, but his fleet was destroyed in Yell Sound by the ships of Earl\nPaul, and he had to escape to Norway in a merchant vessel.\n\nEarl Paul thereupon placed beacons on some of the highest hills in the\nislands, in order that he might have warning of any attempt by Rognvald\nto make a descent by way of Shetland, and the most important of these\nbeacons was on the Fair Isle.\n\nWhen Rognvald, angry and disappointed, arrived in Norway, he took counsel\nwith his father Kol and with an old man named Uni, who was reckoned a\nvery wise man; and as he had many friends among the men of Shetland,\nit was decided to make a new attempt in the spring. By the aid of King\nHarald and of his friends a new fleet was then got ready.\n\nWhen the ships were assembled, Rognvald stood up on the deck of his\nwar-dragon to address his men. \u201cEarl Paul and the Orkneyingers,\u201d he said,\n\u201chave taken my inheritance, and refuse to give it up. My grandfather, the\nholy Earl Magnus, was treacherously slain by Paul\u2019s father Hakon, and\ninstead of giving compensation for the wicked deed, Earl Paul would wrong\nme still more in the matter of my inheritance. However, if it be the will\nof God, I intend to fare to the Orkneys, and there win what is mine by\nright, or die with honour.\u201d\n\nAll the men cheered this speech, and when they were silent Kol rose to\nspeak. He advised his son not to trust in his own strength for success.\n\u201cI advise thee, Rognvald,\u201d he said, \u201cto make a vow that if St. Magnus\nsecures to thee thine inheritance, thou wilt build and dedicate to him in\nKirkwall a minster of such size and splendour that it shall be the wonder\nand the glory of all the North.\u201d\n\nRognvald thought this the best of advice. Rising once more, he vowed\nto build in Kirkwall a splendid cathedral in honour of St. Magnus, and\nto remove thither with all reverence the remains of the sainted earl.\nNo sooner had this solemn vow been taken than the wind became fair for\nsailing. The fleet at once put to sea, and reached Shetland in a few days.\n\nNow Rognvald\u2019s real difficulties began. How could he take Earl Paul by\nsurprise, as he wished to do, with the beacon on the Fair Isle ready to\ngive the alarm as soon as his ships came in sight? The wisdom of Kol and\nof Uni came to his aid. The former had a plan to cause the beacon to be\nlit on a false alarm, and the latter to prevent its being lit when it was\nneeded.\n\nKol set sail from Shetland towards evening with a fleet of small boats.\nWhen they came in sight of the Fair Isle, they hoisted their sails half\nway up the masts, and with the oars the men kept back the boats so as\nto make them sail very slowly. At the same time they gradually hoisted\ntheir sails higher and higher, so that to those in charge of the beacon\nit might seem that a fleet was rapidly approaching When it was dark the\nboats returned to the land.\n\nThe trick was successful. The Fair Isle beacon flared up to the sky,\nthose on North Ronaldsay and on Westray followed, and soon every hilltop\nin the islands showed its warning light. The Orkneymen took their weapons\nand hurried to Kirkwall, where Earl Paul had appointed them to gather in\nsuch a case, and all was ready to meet the enemy; but no enemy appeared.\nThose who had charge of the beacons came with the news of a fleet\napproaching; and after long waiting other men were sent to look for its\ncoming, but they looked in vain. Quarrels soon began to arise as to who\nwas to blame for the false alarm, for the men were angry at having been\ntaken from their farm work to no purpose; so the earl had to make peace\namong them, and set other men to build up the beacons again and to watch\nthem.\n\nNow came Uni\u2019s turn. He sailed to the Fair Isle with three companions,\nand pretended to be an enemy of Rognvald, saying many hard things\nagainst him and his men. His three companions went out every day to\nfish, but Uni himself stayed on shore. He gradually made friends with\nthe people of the isle, and especially with those who had charge of the\nbeacon. At last he offered to watch it for them, saying that he had\nnothing else to do, and his offer was accepted. Uni then poured water on\nthe beacon, and kept it in such a state of dampness that it should be\nimpossible to light it when it was needed.\n\nThus by the time that Rognvald was to set out from Shetland, Uni had\neverything prepared. As soon as his ships were seen from the Fair Isle,\nthe men who had charge of the beacon tried to light it, but in vain.\nThere was no time to warn Earl Paul, and Rognvald landed in Westray\nwithout any alarm being given. The bishop now interfered between the\nrivals, and a truce was agreed to in order that terms of peace might be\narranged.\n\nAnd now things took a strange and unexpected turn, so that Rognvald won\nthe islands without any fighting. While Earl Paul was on a visit to his\nfriend Sigurd of Westness, in Rousay, he went out before breakfast one\nmorning and mysteriously disappeared. Sigurd sought him everywhere in\nvain. At last they discovered that he had been seized and carried off\nto Scotland by Sweyn Asleifson, and he never returned. Earl Paul\u2019s men\ngradually came over to Earl Rognvald, and he became ruler over the whole\nearldom.\n\nEarl Rognvald now set about fulfilling his vow and raising a great\ncathedral in Kirkwall in honour of St. Magnus. In 1137 the work was begun\nunder the superintendence of Kol, but many a long year was to pass ere\nit should be finished. As the work went on it soon became very costly\nto the earl. In his difficulty he once more went to his father Kol for\nadvice. Kol said that Rognvald should declare himself the heir of all\nlandholders who died, and that their sons should have to redeem their\nlands from him. A Thing was called, and this law was passed; but the\nfreemen also had the choice given them of buying their lands outright,\nso that the earl might not inherit them in the future. Most of the\nlandholders took that plan, and now there was once more plenty of money\nfor the cathedral.\n\nWhen the work was so far advanced that part of the cathedral could be\nroofed in, the remains of St. Magnus, which had already been removed from\nChrist Church in Birsay, were laid to rest in the new minster. Many great\nmen have been laid in the same place since then. Earl Rognvald himself\nwas buried there, and there too the remains of King Hakon rested for a\ntime before their removal to Bergen.\n\nWhile on a visit to Norway, Earl Rognvald made the acquaintance of a\nCrusader who had returned from the Holy Land, and he determined that he\nalso would become a \u201cJorsalafarer,\u201d or pilgrim to Jerusalem. The story of\nthis strange voyage, in company with the Bishop of Orkney and many of his\ncountrymen\u2014half Vikings, half Crusaders\u2014is well told in the \u201cSaga of Earl\nRognvald,\u201d and in our next chapter we give part of the narrative.\n\n[Illustration: _On the \u201cViking Path.\u201d_]\n\n\n\n\nTHE JORSALAFARERS.\n\n\n\u201cEarl Rongvald busked him that summer to leave the Orkneys, and he was\nrather late boun; for they had a long while to wait for Eindrid, as his\nship did not come from Norway which he had let be made there the winter\nbefore. But when they were boun, they held on their course away from the\nOrkneys in fifteen big ships.\n\n\u201cThey sailed away from the Orkneys and south to Scotland, and so on to\nEngland, and as they sailed by Northumberland, off Humbermouth, Armod\nsang a song,\u2014\n\n \u2018The sea was high off Humbermouth\n When our ships were beating out,\n Bends the mast and sinks the land\n \u2019Neath our lee off Vesla-sand;\n Wave with veil of foam that rises\n Drives not in the eyes of him\n Who now sits at home; the stripling\n From the meeting rideth dry.\u2019\n\n\u201cThey sailed thence south round England and to France. Nothing is said of\ntheir voyage before that they came to that seaburg which is named Nerbon\nThere these tidings had happened, that the earl who before had ruled\nthe town was dead. His name was Germanus; he left behind him a daughter\nyoung and fair, whose name was Ermingerd. She kept watch and ward over\nher father\u2019s inheritance, with the counsel of the most noble men of her\nkinsfolk. They gave that counsel to the queen that she should bid the\nearl to a worthy feast, and said that by that she would be famous if she\nwelcomed heartily such men of rank who had come so far to see her, and\nwho would bear her fame still further. The queen bade them see to that.\nAnd when this counsel had been agreed on by them, men were sent to the\nearl, and he was told that the queen bade him to a feast with as many of\nhis men as he chose to bring with him. The earl took this bidding with\nthanks; he chose out all his best men for this journey with him. And when\nthey came to the feast, there was the best cheer, and nothing was spared\nwhich could do the earl more honour than he had ever met before.\n\n\u201cOne day it happened as the earl sat at the feast that the queen came\ninto the hall and many women with her; she held a beaker of gold in her\nhand. She was dressed in the best clothes, had her hair loose as maidens\nwont to have, and had put a golden band round her brow. She poured the\nwine into the earl\u2019s cup, but her maidens danced before them. The earl\ntook her hand and the beaker too and set her on his knee, and they talked\nmuch that day.\n\n\u201cThe earl stayed there very long in the best of cheer. The townsmen\npressed the earl to settle down there, and spoke out loudly about how\nthey would give him the lady to wife. The earl said he would fare on\nthat voyage which he had purposed, but said that he would come thither\nas he fared back, and then they could carry out their plan or not as\nthey pleased. After that the earl busked him away thence with his fellow\nvoyagers. And as they sailed west of Thrasness they had a good wind; then\nthey sat and drank and were very merry.\n\n\u201cThey fared till they came to Galicialand in the winter before Yule, and\nmeant to sit there Yule over. They dealt with the landsmen, and begged\nthem to set them a market to buy food; for the land was barren and bad\nfor food, and the landsmen thought it hard to feed that host of men.\nNow these tidings had happened there, that in that land sat a chief who\nwas a stranger, in a castle, and he had laid on the landsmen very heavy\nburdens. He harried them on the spot if they did not agree at once to all\nthat he asked, and he offered them the greatest tyranny and oppression.\nAnd when the earl spoke to the landsmen about bringing him food to\nbuy, they made him that offer, that they would set them up a market\nthenceforth on till Lent, but they must rid them in some way or other of\nthe men in the castle; but Earl Rognvald was to bear the brunt in return\nfor the right of having all the goods that were gotten from them.\n\n\u201cThe earl laid this bare before his men, and sought counsel from them as\nto which choice he should take; but most of them were eager to fall on\nthe castlemen, and thought it bid fair for spoil. And so Earl Rognvald\nand his host went into that agreement with the landsmen. But when it drew\nnear to Yule, Earl Rognvald called his men to a talk, and said,\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Now have we sat here awhile, and yet we have had nothing to do with\nthe castlemen, but the landsmen are getting rather slack in their\ndealings with us. Methinks they think that what we promised them will\nhave no fulfilment; but still that is not manly not to turn our hands to\nwhat we have promised. Now, kinsman Erling, will I take counsel from you\nin what way we shall win the castle, for I know that ye are here some of\nyou the greatest men for good counsel; but still I will beg all those men\nwho are here that each will throw in what he thinks is likeliest to be\nworth trying.\u2019\n\n\u201cErling answered the earl\u2019s speech: \u2018I will not be silent at your\nbidding. But I am not a man for counsel, and it would be better rather\nto call on those men for that who have seen more, and are more wont to\nsuch exploits, as is Eindrid the Young. But here it will be as the saying\ngoes, \u201cYou must shoot at a bird before you get him.\u201d And so we will try\nto give some counsel, whatever comes of it. We shall to-day, if it seems\nto you not bad counsel or to the other shipmasters, go all of us to the\nwood, and bear each of us three shoulder-bundles of fagots on our backs\nunder the castle; for it seems to me as though the lime will not be\ntrusty if a great fire is brought to it. We shall let this go on for the\nthree next days and see what turn things take.\u2019\n\n\u201cThey did as Erling bade; and when that toil was over, it was come right\non to Yule. The bishop would not let them make their onslaught while the\nYule high feast stood over them.\n\n\u201cThat chief\u2019s name was Godfrey who dwelt in the castle; he was a wise\nman, and somewhat stricken in years. He was a good clerk, and had\nfared far and wide, and knew many tongues. He was a grasping man and\na very unfair man. He called together his men when he saw Rognvald\u2019s\nundertakings, and said to them,\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018This scheme seems to me clever and harmful to us which the Northmen\nhave taken in hand. It will befall us thus if fire is borne against us,\nthat the stone wall round the castle will be untrustworthy. But the\nNorthmen are strong and brave; we shall have to look for a sharp fight\nfrom them if they get a chance. I will now take counsel with you what\nshall be done in this strait which has befallen us.\u2019 But his men all bade\nhim see to that for them. Then he began to speak, and said, \u2018My first\ncounsel is that ye shall bind a cord round me and let me slide down from\nthe castle wall to-night. I shall have on bad clothes, and fare into the\ncamp of the Northmen, and know what I can find out.\u2019\n\n\u201cThis counsel was taken as he had laid it down. And when Godfrey came to\nEarl Rognvald he said he was an old beggar carle, and spoke in Spanish;\nthey understood that tongue best. He fared about among all the booths and\nbegged for food. He found out that there was great envy and splitting\ninto parties amongst the Northmen. Eindrid was the head of one side,\nbut the earl of the other. Godfrey came to Eindrid and got to talk with\nhim, and brought that before him that the chief who held the castle had\nsent him thither. \u2018He will have fellowship with thee, and he hopes that\nthou wilt give him peace if the castle be won. He would rather that thou\nshouldst have his treasures, if thou wilt do so much in return for them,\nthan those who would rather see him a dead man.\u2019 Of such things they\ntalked and much besides. But the earl was kept in the dark; all this went\non by stealth at first. And when Godfrey had stayed a while with the\nearl\u2019s men, then he turned back to his men. But this was why they did\nnot flit what they owned out of the castle, because they did not know\nwhether the storm would take place at all; besides they could not trust\nthe landfolk.\n\n\u201cIt was the tenth day of Yule that Earl Rognvald rose up. The weather\nwas good. Then he bade his men put on their arms, and let the host be\ncalled up to the castle with the trumpet. Then they drew the wood towards\nit, and piled a bale round about the wall. The earl drew up his men for\nthe onslaught where each of them should go. The earl goes against it\nfrom the south with the Orkneyingers, Erling and Aslag from the west,\nJohn and Gudorm from the east, Eindrid the Young from the north with his\nfollowers. And when they were boun for the storm they cast fire into the\nbale.\n\n\u201cNow they began to press on fast both with fire and weapons. Then they\nshot hard into the work for they could not reach them by any other\nattack. The castlemen stood loosely here and there on the wall, for they\nhad to guard themselves against the shots. They poured out too burning\npitch and brimstone, and the earl\u2019s men took little harm by that. Now it\nturned out as Erling had guessed, that the castle wall crumbled before\nthe fire when the lime would not stand it, and there were great breaches\nin it.\n\n\u201cSigmund Angle was the name of a man in the earl\u2019s bodyguard; he was\nSweyn Asliefson\u2019s step-son. He pressed on faster than any man to the\ncastle, and ever went on before the earl; he was then scarcely grown up.\nAnd when the storm had lasted awhile, then all men fled from the castle\nwall. The wind was on from the south, and the reek of the smoke lay\ntowards Eindrid and his men. And when the fire began to spread very fast,\nthen the earl made them bring water and cool the rubble that was burned.\nAnd then there was a lull in the assault.\n\n\u201cAfter that the earl made ready to storm, and Sigmund Angle with him.\nThere was then but a little struggle, and they got into the castle. There\nmany men were slain, but those who would take life gave themselves up\nto the earl\u2019s power. There they took much goods, but they did not find\nthe chief, and scarcely any precious things. Then there was forthwith\nmuch talk how Godfrey could have got away; and then at once they had the\ngreatest doubt of Eindrid the Young, that he must have passed him away\nsomehow, and that he (Godfrey) must have gone away under the smoke to the\nwood.\n\n\u201cAfter that Earl Rognvald and his host stayed there a short time in\nGalicialand, and held on west off Spain. They harried wide in that part\nof Spain which belonged to the heathen, and got there much goods. After\nthat they sailed west off Spain, and got there a great storm, and lay\nthree days at anchor, so that they shipped very much water, and it lay\nnear that they had lost their ships. After that they hoisted their sails\nand beat out to Njorfa Sound [the Strait of Gibraltar] with a very cross\nwind. They sailed through Njorfa Sound, and then the weather began to\nget better. And then, as they bore out of the sound, Eindrid the Young\nparted company from the earl with six ships. He sailed over the sea to\nMarseilles, but Rognvald and his ships lay behind at the sound; and men\ntalked much about it, how Eindrid had now himself given proof whether or\nnot he had helped Godfrey away.\n\n\u201cNothing is told of the voyage of the earl and his men before they came\nsouth off Sarkland, and lay in the neighbourhood of Sardinia, and knew\nnot what land they were near. The weather had turned out in this wise,\nthat a great calm set in and mists and smooth seas\u2014though the nights\nwere light\u2014and they saw scarcely at all from their ships, and so they\nmade little way. One morning it happened that the mist lifted. Men stood\nup and looked about them. Then the earl asked if men saw anything new.\nThey said they saw nought but two islets, little and steep, and when\nthey looked for the islets the second time, then one of the islets was\ngone. They told this to the earl. He began to say, \u2018That can have been no\nislets. That must be ships which men have out here in this part of the\nworld, which they call dromonds; those are ships big as holms to look on.\nBut there, where the other dromond lay, a breeze must have come down on\nthe sea, and they must have sailed away; but these must be wayfaring men,\neither chapmen or faring in some other way on their business.\u2019\n\n\u201cAfter that the earl lets them call to him the bishop and all the\nshipmasters; then he began to say: \u2018I call you together for this, lord\nbishop and Erling, my kinsman: see ye any scheme or chance of ours that\nwe may win victory in some way over those who are on the dromond.\u2019 The\nbishop answers: \u2018Hard, I guess, will it be for you to run your long-ships\nunder the dromond, for ye will have no better way of boarding than by\ngrappling the bulwarks with a broad-axe; but they will have brimstone and\nboiling pitch to throw under your feet and over your heads. Ye may see,\nearl, so wise as you are, that it is the greatest rashness to lay one\u2019s\nself and one\u2019s men in such risk.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen Erling began to speak: \u2018Lord bishop,\u2019 he says, \u2018likely it is that\nye are best able to see this, that there will be little hope of victory\nin rowing against them. But somehow it seems to me that though we try to\nrun under the dromond, so methinks it will be that the greatest weight\nof weapons will fall beyond our ships, if we hug her close, broadside to\nbroadside. But if it be not so, then we can put off from them quickly,\nfor they will not chase us in the dromond.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe earl began to say: \u2018That is spoken like a man and quite to my mind.\nI will now make that clear to the shipmasters and all the crews, that\neach man shall busk him in his room, and arm himself as he best can.\nAfter that we will row up to them. But if they are Christian chapmen,\nthen it will be in our power to make peace with them; but if they are\nheathen, as I feel sure they are, then Almighty God will yield us that\nmercy that we shall win the victory over them. But of the war spoil which\nwe get there, we shall give the fiftieth penny to poor men.\u2019 After that,\nmen got out their arms and heightened the bulwarks of their ships, and\nmade themselves ready according to the means which they had at hand. The\nearl settles where each of his ships should run in. Then they made an\nonslaught on her by rowing, and pulled up to her as briskly as they could.\n\n\u201cBut when those who were aboard the dromond saw that ships were rowing\nup to them, they took silken stuffs and costly goods and hung them out\non the bulwarks, and then made great shoutings and hailings; and it\nseemed to the earl\u2019s men as though they dared the Northmen to come on\nagainst them. Earl Rognvald laid his ship aft alongside the dromond on\nthe starboard, but Erling, too, aft on the larboard. John and Aslak, they\nlaid their ships forward each on his own board, but the others amidships\non both boards; and all the ships hugged her close, broadside to\nbroadside. And when they came under the dromond, her sides were so high\nout of the water that they could not reach up with their weapons. But the\nfoe poured down blazing brimstone and flaming pitch over them. And it was\nas Erling guessed it would be, that the greatest weight of weapons fell\nout beyond the ships, and they had no need to shield themselves on that\nside which was next to the dromond, but those who were on the other side\nheld their shields over their heads and sheltered themselves in that way.\n\n\u201cAnd when they made no way with their onslaught, the bishop shoved his\nship off and two others, and they picked out and sent thither their\nbowmen, and they lay within shot, and shot thence at the dromond, and\nthen that onslaught was the hardest that was made. Then those on board\nthe dromond got under cover, but thought little about what those were\ndoing who had laid their ships under the dromond. Earl Rognvald called\nout then to his men, that they should take their axes and hew asunder the\nbroadside of the dromond in the parts where she was least iron-bound. But\nwhen the men in the other ships saw what the earl\u2019s men were about, they\nalso took the like counsel.\n\n\u201cNow, where Erling and his men had laid their ship a great anchor hung\non the dromond, and the fluke was hung by the crook over the bulwark,\nbut the stock pointed down to Erling\u2019s ship. Audun the Red was the name\nof Erling\u2019s bowman; he was lifted up on the anchor-stock. But after that\nhe hauled up to him more men, so that they stood as thick as ever they\ncould on the stock, and thence hewed at the sides as they best could, and\nthat hewing was by far the highest up. And when they had hewn such large\ndoors that they could go into the dromond, they made ready to board, and\nthe earl and his men got into the lower hold, but Erling and his men into\nthe upper. And when both their bands had come up on the ship there was a\nfight both great and hard. On board the dromond were Saracens, what we\ncall Mahomet\u2019s unbelievers. There were many blackamoors, and they made\nthe hardest struggle. Erling got there a great wound on his neck near his\nshoulders as he sprang up into the dromond. That healed so ill that he\nbore his head on one side ever after. That was why he was called Wryneck.\n\n\u201cAnd when they met Earl Rognvald and Erling, the Saracens gave way before\nthem to the fore-part of the ship, but the earl\u2019s men then boarded her\none after another. Then they were more numerous, and they pressed the\nenemy hard. They saw that on board the dromond was one man who was both\ntaller and fairer than the others; the Northmen held it to be the truth\nthat that man must be their chief. Earl Rognvald said that they should\nnot turn their weapons against him, if they could take him in any other\nway. Then they hemmed him in and bore him down with their shields, and\nso he was taken and afterwards carried to the bishop\u2019s ship, and few men\nwith him. They slew there much folk, and got much goods and many costly\nthings. When they had ended the greatest part of their toil, they sat\ndown and rested themselves.\n\n\u201cMen spoke of these tidings which had happened there. Then each spoke of\nwhat he thought he had seen; and men talked about who had been the first\nto board the dromond, and could not agree about it. Then some said that\nit was foolish that they should not all have one story about these great\nthings; and the end of it was that they agreed that Earl Rognvald should\nsettle the dispute, and afterwards they should all back what he said.\n\n\u201cWhen they had stripped the dromond they put fire into her and burnt her.\nAnd when that tall man whom they had made captive saw that, he was much\nstirred, and changed colour, and could not hold himself still. But though\nthey tried to make him speak, he never said a word and made no manner\nof sign, nor did he pay any heed to them whether they promised him good\nor ill. But when the dromond began to blaze, they saw as though blazing\nmolten ore ran down into the sea. That moved the captive man much. They\nwere quite sure then that they had looked for goods carelessly, and now\nthe metal had melted in the heat of the fire, whether it had been gold or\nsilver.\n\n\u201cEarl Rognvald and his men sailed thence south under Sarkland, and lay\nunder a seaburg, and made a seven nights\u2019 truce with the townsmen, and\nhad dealings with them, and sold them the men whom they had taken. No\nman would buy the tall man. And after that the earl gave him leave to go\naway and four men with him. He came down the next morning with a train\nof men and told them that he was a prince of Sarkland, and had sailed\nthence with the dromond and all the goods that were aboard her. He said,\ntoo, he thought that worst of all that they burnt the dromond, and made\nsuch waste of that great wealth that it was of no use to any one. \u2018But\nnow I have great power over your affairs. Now you shall have the greatest\ngood from me for having spared my life and treated me with such honour\nas ye could; but I would be very willing that we saw each other never\nagain. And so now live safe and sound and well.\u2019 After that he rode up\nthe country, but Earl Rognvald sailed thence south to Crete, and they lay\nthere in very foul weather.\n\n\u201cThe earl and his men lay under Crete till they got a fair wind for\nJewry-land, and came to Acreburg early on a Friday morning, and landed\nthen with such great pomp and state as was seldom seen there. The earl\nand his men stayed in Acreburg a while. There sickness came into their\nranks, and many famous men breathed their last. There Thorbjorn the\nSwarthy, a liegeman, breathed his last.\n\n\u201cEarl Rognvald and his men then fared from Acreburg, and sought all the\nholiest places in the land of Jewry. They all fared to Jordan and bathed\nthere. Earl Rognvald and Sigmund Angle swam across the river and went\nup on the bank there, and thither where was a thicket of brushwood, and\nthere they twisted great knots. After that they fared back to Jerusalem.\n\n\u201cEarl Rognvald and his men fared that summer from the land of Jewry, and\nmeant to go north to Micklegarth [Constantinople], and came about autumn\nto that town which is called Imbolar. They stayed there a very long time\nin the town. They had that watchword in the town, if men met one another\nwalking where it was throng and narrow, and the one thought it needful\nthat the other who met him should yield him the path, then he says thus,\n\u2018Out of the way; out of the way.\u2019 One evening as the earl and his men\nwere coming out of the town, and Erling Wryneck went out along the wharf\nto his ship, some of the townsmen met him and called out, \u2018Out of the\nway; out of the way.\u2019 Erling was very drunk, and made as though he heard\nthem not, and when they ran against one another, Erling fell off the\nwharf and down into the mud which was below; and his men ran down to pick\nhim up, and had to strip off every stitch of his clothes and wash him.\nNext morning when he and the earl met, and he was told what had happened,\nhe smiled at it.\n\n\u201cAfter that they fared away thence. And nothing is told of their voyage\nbefore they come north to Engilsness [Cape St. Angelo]. There they lay\nsome nights and waited for a wind which would seem fair to them to sail\nnorth along the sea to Micklegarth. They took great pains then with\ntheir sailing, and so sailed with great pomp, just as they had heard that\nSigurd Jewry-farer had done.\n\n\u201cWhen Earl Rognvald and his men came to Micklegarth they had a hearty\nwelcome from the emperor and the Varangians. Menelaus was then emperor\nover Micklegarth, whom we call Manuel. He gave the earl much goods, and\noffered them bounty-money if they would stay there. They stayed there\nawhile that winter in very good cheer. There was Eindrid the Young, and\nhe had very great honour from the emperor. He had little to do with Earl\nRognvald and his men, and rather tried to set other men against them.\n\n\u201cEarl Rognvald set out on his voyage home that winter from Micklegarth,\nand fared first west to Bulgarialand, to Dyrrachburg. Thence he sailed\nwest across the sea to Poule. There Earl Rognvald and Bishop William and\nErling, and all the nobler men of their band, landed from their ships,\nand got them horses and rode thence first to Rome, and so homewards on\nthe way from Rome until they come to Denmark, and thence they fared north\nto Norway. There men were glad to see them, and this voyage was most\nfamous, and they who had gone on it were thought to be men of much more\nworth after than before.\u201d\n\n _From the \u201cOrkneyinga Saga,\u201d translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L.\n (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_\n\n[Illustration: _A Great Viking._\n\n_(From the picture by H. W. Koekkoek.)_]\n\n\n\n\nSWEYN ASLEIFSON, THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS.\n\n\nThe sudden disappearance of Earl Paul, by which Earl Rognvald had been\nleft in sole possession of the Orkneys, was, as we have said, due to a\ncertain Viking, Sweyn Asleifson of Gairsay. This Sweyn is one of the\nmost remarkable men in all Orcadian history. Among the Vikings of old he\nwas the greatest, and he was the last. Of him the Saga says: \u201cHe was the\ngreatest man in the western lands, either in old time or at the present\nday.\u201d\n\nFor the slaying of one of Earl Paul\u2019s men Sweyn had had to escape out of\nthe isles. He abode for a time in the Hebrides, and afterwards sought\nrefuge in the dales of Scotland, where Margaret, the daughter of Earl\nHakon, was married to Maddad, Earl of Athole. He had promised to help\nHarald, their son, to become Earl of the Orkneys, and it was with a view\nto this that he kidnapped Earl Paul.\n\nOn that morning Earl Paul had gone out early from Westness to hunt the\notter near Scabro Head. Sweyn had sailed over from Thurso, keeping to the\nwest of Hoy and the Mainland, and was now rowing into Evie Sound, for\nhe had heard that Earl Paul was staying with Sigurd of Westness. As they\nrowed near the land, Sweyn ordered all his men to lie hid except those at\nthe oars, that the ship might look like a peaceful merchant-vessel.\n\nWhen the earl saw the ship rowing near the rocks, he called out to the\nmen that they should go on to Westness with their wares for Earl Paul.\nThen Sweyn, who was lying hid, bade his men ask where the earl was.\n\n\u201cThe earl is here on the rocks,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cRow quickly to land at a place where they will not see us,\u201d said Sweyn\nto his men; \u201cand let us arm ourselves, for we have work to do.\u201d\n\nThe ship was rowed to the shore, as he had said, and Sweyn and his men\narmed themselves and fell upon Earl Paul and his company. These, being\nunarmed, were soon disposed of. The earl was seized and taken aboard the\nship, and Sweyn immediately set sail for Scotland by the way he had come.\n\nSigurd marvelled when the earl did not return from his hunting, and\nmen were sent out to look for him. They came upon the bodies of the\nslain\u2014nineteen of the earl\u2019s men and six strangers\u2014but the earl himself\nhad disappeared. It was at first thought that Earl Rognvald had had\nsomething to do with his disappearance, and it was many days before men\nknew what had become of the vanished earl.\n\nIn the meantime Sweyn had carried Paul to Athole, and placed him in the\nkeeping of Maddad and Margaret. His after fate is unknown. The story\nwhich Sweyn afterwards told is that Paul did not wish to return to\nOrkney, so shameful had been the manner of his leaving it; and that he\nwished it to be reported that he had been blinded or maimed, in order\nthat men should not seek to bring him back. Sweyn himself came back to\nOrkney with this story; and he acknowledged Earl Rognvald, and became\nvery friendly with him.\n\nAs the great Earl of Warwick has been called \u201cthe king-maker\u201d in England,\nso Sweyn may be called the \u201cearl-maker\u201d in Orkney. He it was who caused\nHarald, the son of Maddad, to be made earl, and he also supported Earl\nErlend in his claims while Earl Rognvald was in the Holy Land. He gained\nthe friendship of David, King of Scots, Viking though he was, and the\nterror of the Scottish and Irish seas. Many of Sweyn\u2019s Viking raids\nare told in the Orkney Saga, one of the most famous being that known\nas Sweyn\u2019s \u201cBroadcloth Cruise.\u201d The following account is given of this\ncruise, and of the death of Sweyn:\u2014\n\n\u201cThese tidings happened once on a time, that Sweyn Asleifson fared away\non his spring-cruise, and Hakon, Earl Harald\u2019s son, fared with him; and\nthey had five ships with oars, and all of them large. They harried about\namong the Southern Isles. Then the folk were so scared at him in the\nSouthern Isles that men hid all their goods and chattels in the earth or\nin piles of rocks. Sweyn sailed as far south as Man, and got ill off for\nspoil. Thence they sailed out under Ireland and harried there. But when\nthey came about south under Dublin, then two keels sailed there from off\nthe main, which had come from England, and meant to steer for Dublin;\nthey were laden with English cloths, and great store of goods was aboard\nthem.\n\n\u201cSweyn and his men pulled up to the keels and offered them battle. Little\ncame of the defence of the Englishmen before Sweyn gave the word to\nboard. Then the Englishmen were made prisoners. And there they robbed\nthem of every penny which was aboard the keels, save that the Englishmen\nkept the clothes they stood in and some food, and went on their way\nafterwards with the keels; but Sweyn and his men fared to the Southern\nIsles and shared their war-spoil.\n\n\u201cThey sailed from the west with great pomp. They did this as a glory for\nthemselves when they lay in harbours, that they threw awnings of English\ncloth over their ships. But when they sailed into the Orkneys, they sewed\nthe cloth on the fore-part of the sails, so that it looked in that wise\nas though the sails were made altogether of broadcloth. This they called\nthe Broadcloth Cruise.\n\n\u201cSweyn fared home to his house in Gairsay. He had taken from the keels\nmuch wine and English mead. Now when Sweyn had been at home a short\nwhile, he bade to him Earl Harald, and made a worthy feast against his\ncoming. When Earl Harald was at the feast, there was much talk amongst\nthem of Sweyn\u2019s good cheer. The earl spoke and said: \u2018This I would now,\nSweyn, that thou wouldst lay aside thy sea-rovings; \u2019tis good now to\ndrive home with a whole wain. But thou knowest this, that thou hast long\nmaintained thyself and thy men by sea-roving; but so it fares with most\nmen who live by unfair means, that they lose their lives in strife, if\nthey do not break themselves from it.\u2019\n\n\u201cThen Sweyn answered, and looked to the earl, and spoke with a smile,\nand said thus: \u2018Well spoken is this, lord, and friendly spoken, and it\nwill be good to take a bit of good counsel from you; but some men lay\nthat to your door, that ye too are men of little fairness.\u2019 The earl\nanswered: \u2018I shall have to answer for my share, but a gossiping tongue\ndrives me to say what I do.\u2019\n\n\u201cSweyn said: \u2018Good, no doubt, drives you to it, lord. And so it shall be,\nthat I will leave off sea-roving, for I find that I am growing old, and\nstrength lessens much in hardships and warfare. Now I will go out on my\nautumn-cruise, and I would that it might be with no less glory than the\nspring-cruise was; but after that my wayfaring shall be over.\u2019 The earl\nanswers: \u2018\u2019Tis hard to see, messmate, whether death or lasting luck will\ncome first.\u2019 After that they dropped talking about it. Earl Harald fared\naway from the feast, and was led out with fitting gifts. So he and Sweyn\nparted with great love-tokens.\n\n\u201cA little while after, Sweyn busks him for his roving cruise; he had\nseven long-ships, and all great. Hakon, Earl Harald\u2019s son, went along\nwith Sweyn on his voyage. They held on their course first to the Southern\nIsles, and got there little war-spoil; thence they fared out under\nIreland, and harried there far and wide. They fared so far south as\nDublin, and came upon them there very suddenly, so that the townsmen were\nnot ware of them before they had got into the town. They took there much\ngoods. They made prisoners there those men who were rulers there in the\ntown. The upshot of their business was that they gave the town up into\nSweyn\u2019s power, and agreed to pay as great a ransom as he chose to lay\nupon them. Sweyn was also to hold the town with his men and to have rule\nover it. The Dublin men sware an oath to do this. Next morning Sweyn was\nto come into the town and take the ransom.\n\n\u201cNow it must be told of what happened in the town during the night. The\nmen of good counsel who were in the town held a meeting among themselves,\nand talked over the straits which had befallen them; it seemed to them\nhard to let their town come into the power of the Orkneyingers, and\nworst of all of that man whom they knew to be the most unjust man in the\nwestern lands. So they agreed amongst themselves that they would cheat\nSweyn if they might. They took that counsel, that they dug great trenches\nbefore the burg-gate on the inside, and in many other places between the\nhouses where it was meant that Sweyn and his men should pass; but men\nlay in wait there in the houses hard by with weapons. They laid planks\nover the trenches, so that they should fall down as soon as ever a man\u2019s\nweight comes on them. After that they strewed straw on the planks so that\nthe trenches might not be seen, and so bided the morrow.\n\n\u201cOn the morning after, Sweyn and his men arose and put on their arms;\nafter that they went to the town. And when they came inside beyond the\nburg-gate, the Dublin men made a lane from the burg-gate right to the\ntrenches. Sweyn and his men saw not what they were doing, and ran into\nthe trenches. The townsmen then ran straightway to hold the burg-gate,\nbut some to the trenches, and brought their arms to bear on Sweyn and his\nmen. It was unhandy for them to make any defence, and Sweyn lost his\nlife there in the trenches, and all those who had gone into the town.\nSo it was said that Sweyn was the last to die of all his messmates, and\nspoke these words ere he died: \u2018Know this, all men, whether I lose my\nlife to-day or not, that I am one of the Saint Earl Rognvald\u2019s bodyguard,\nand I now mean to put my trust in being there where he is with God.\u2019\nSweyn\u2019s men fared at once to their ships and pulled away, and nothing is\ntold about their voyage before they come into the Orkneys.\u201d\n\n _From the \u201cOrkneyinga Saga,\u201d translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.I.\n (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DECAY OF THE EARLDOM AND THE END OF THE WESTERN KINGDOM.\n\n\nAfter the death of Earl Rognvald, the islands were ruled for almost fifty\nyears by Harald Maddadson. Harald\u2019s later days were full of troubles.\nWith the decay of his powers the glory of the earldom also faded away. In\n1194, when Sverrir was King of Norway, a rebellion took place, with the\nobject of placing Sigurd Erlingson on the throne. Sigurd\u2019s party, known\nas the \u201cEyjarskeggjar\u201d or \u201cIsland-beardies,\u201d had their headquarters in\nthe Orkneys. There they collected their forces, and there the rebellion\nwas organized. The rebels were completely overthrown in a great battle\nfought near Bergen. Sverrir summoned Earl Harald before him in 1196 to\nanswer for his share in the matter. As a punishment for permitting plots\nagainst him to be hatched in Orkney\u2014plots which the gray-haired old earl\nhad been powerless to prevent\u2014the king compelled him to surrender the\ngovernment of Shetland. For nearly two centuries thereafter Orkney and\nShetland were separate, the former ruled by the earl, the latter by a\ngovernor appointed by the Norwegian crown.\n\nThe result of this was twofold. In the first place it weakened the power\nof the Orkney earldom; in the second place it caused the earldom to draw\nnearer to Scotland, and to come more and more under Scottish influence.\nBut the aged earl\u2019s cup of sorrow was not yet full. He quarrelled also\nwith the Scottish king. As a consequence of this quarrel he was stripped\nof his Scottish possessions, and his son Thorfinn perished miserably, a\nprisoner in Roxburgh Castle. When Earl Harald died in 1206, full of years\nand of sorrows, the earldom was but the shadow of its former self.\n\nAfter Harald\u2019s death, his two sons, John and David, succeeded to the\nearldom. David did not live long, and John was then left sole earl. This\nearl, the last of the old Norse jarls, was Earl of Orkney excluding\nShetland, holding that earldom from the Norwegian king, and Earl of\nCaithness, including Sutherland, holding that from the King of Scotland.\nMatters continued in this state generally till the pledging of the\nislands in 1468, the only change being that Shetland was again added to\nthe Orkney earldom in 1379, when Henry, the first of the St. Clairs,\nbecame earl.\n\nThe days of Earl John, like those of his father, were stormy, and\ndisaster after disaster fell upon the isles. The burning of Bishop Adam\nat Halkirk in Caithness brought down on the earl the vengeance of King\nAlexander the Second of Scotland. The earl had no hand in the murder,\nbut he was near by, and, in the opinion of King Alexander, might have\nprevented the tragedy. Then a feud arose between the earl and some of\nthe leaders of a Norse expedition to the Western Isles. The earl was\nattacked suddenly in Thurso, and there murdered. This took place in\nthe year 1231. The murderers took refuge in the Castle of Weir, where\nthey were besieged by the earl\u2019s friends and adherents. Ultimately both\nparties agreed that the case should be submitted to the Norwegian king.\n\nThe chief men of the islands embarked for Norway to be present at the\ntrial of the murderers, which ended in their conviction and punishment.\nBut a terrible disaster for the Orkney earldom followed. All the leading\nmen of the islands left Norway in one ship, and set sail for Orkney late\nin autumn. Stormy weather set in shortly after their departure. Fears\nwhich were entertained for the safety of the ship proved to be only too\nwell founded: the ship was never heard of again. With her went down\nnearly all the nobility of the earldom. This disaster, which happened in\n1232, was irremediable. Well does the Saga of Hakon Hakonson say, \u201cMany\nmen have had to suffer for this later.\u201d The earldom never recovered from\nthe loss of its best blood, and but for this loss the after course of\nevents might have been very different. Henceforth the Orkney earldom\nplays but a subordinate part in the history of the North.\n\nIn 1232 King Alexander of Scotland granted the Earldom of Caithness to\nMagnus, son of Gilbride, Earl of Angus. Magnus was at the same time\nconfirmed in the Earldom of Orkney by the King of Norway. But King\nAlexander made Sutherland a separate earldom, William Friskyn being\ncreated first earl. Thus within a period of forty years the earldom,\nwhich had at one time rivalled the power of Scotland itself, and had been\nat once the centre and the defence of the Norse Empire in the west, was\nstripped of more than half its territories.\n\nThe Scottish king had a deep purpose to serve in thus weakening the\nnorthern earldom. He was already casting covetous eyes on the Hebrides,\nand every blow struck at the power of the Orkney earl was a step towards\nthe conquest of the Western Isles. In the heyday of Norse ascendency\nthere was danger of the western Norse colonies swallowing up Scotland\nrather than of Scotland swallowing up these colonies. But Hakon of Norway\nwas now too busy at home repressing internal disorders to give much\nthought to the ambitions of the Scottish king, and the Orkney earl was\ntoo weak to form a serious obstacle, besides which he was more than half\nScottish himself.\n\nFor many years the chiefs of the Hebrides and the Western Isles had been\nwavering in their allegiance to the Norwegian crown. King Alexander was\nalso doing his utmost to undermine Norse influence in the west. While he\nwas carrying on intrigues with the western chiefs, he at the same time\nkept sending embassies to Norway to treat with Hakon for the purchase of\nthese islands. Hakon\u2019s answer was brief and decided: He was not yet so\nmuch in want of money that he needed to sell his lands for it.\n\nThe next King of Scotland, Alexander the Third, had the same ambitions as\nhis father, and as resolutely pursued his schemes for the subjugation of\nthe Hebrides. He was, moreover, a young, energetic, and warlike king. He\nfound the island chiefs very troublesome neighbours. His father\u2019s policy\nof intrigue was too slow for him, and he determined to take by force what\nhe could not obtain by treaty.\n\nIn 1262 the Scots invaded the Norse dominions in the west. Hakon, who had\nnow pacified his own kingdom, was at last roused to make a serious effort\nto preserve his over-sea dominions. In the summer of 1263 he \u201clet letters\nof summons be sent round all Norway, and called out the levies both of\nmen and stores as he thought the land could bear it. He summoned all the\nhost to meet him early in the summer at Bergen.\u201d\n\nA mighty fleet assembled in obedience to the king\u2019s command, and, under\nthe leadership of Hakon himself, set sail from Norway in the end of July\n1263. After delaying through the summer in Shetland and Orkney, this\nill-fated expedition reached the Firth of Clyde in late autumn. Alexander\nthe Third, knowing well that he could not hope to meet the Norsemen at\nsea, prepared to give them as warm a reception as possible wherever\nthey might land. In the meantime he pretended to be anxious for peace.\nNegotiations were opened between the two kings. Alexander temporized:\nwinter was approaching.\n\nHakon\u2019s patience at last gave way, and breaking off negotiations, the\nNorsemen began to harry the country, receiving willing aid from the\nvarious half-Celtic chieftains, who enjoyed nothing so much as an\nopportunity of ravaging the fertile Lowlands. But that ally whose coming\nAlexander had been awaiting came at length; on the first of October\na great storm from the south-west arose suddenly during the night.\nHakon\u2019s ships began to drag their anchors. They fouled each other in\nthe darkness, and several were driven ashore on the Ayrshire coast. When\nmorning dawned, Hakon found his own ship within bowshot of the shore,\nwhile the Scots were already plundering one which had stranded near by.\n\nDuring a lull in the storm Hakon managed to land a detachment of his men\nto protect the stranded galley. But the storm increased in fury once\nmore. The Norsemen on shore were outnumbered probably by ten to one, and\nno help could be sent from the ships. The Vikings threw themselves into\na circle bristling with spear-points. Onset after onset of the Scots\nforced the ring of spears slowly back towards the shore, but they could\nnot break it. All day long the battle raged\u2014the Norsemen with the angry\nsea behind them, and no hope of succour from their fleet; the Scots\ndetermined to drive the invaders into the sea, or slay them where they\nstood.\n\nAs evening began to fall the storm moderated, and Hakon was able to send\nreinforcements on shore. The Scots were borne backwards by the onset\nof the fresh warriors. But night was falling, and the Norsemen were\nanxious to get back to their ships, for the storm was not yet over. They\naccordingly hastened to take advantage of the breathing-space which they\nhad won, and retired to their ships.\n\nSuch was the famous battle of Largs, which both Scots and Norsemen claim\nas a victory. In itself it was little more than a skirmish; but the\nevents of that night and day, the storm and the battle together, gave the\ndeath-blow to Norse dominion in the west. The heart of King Hakon failed\nhim. His men also were discouraged. The shattered remains of the once\nsplendid fleet set sail for Orkney, and the great invasion of Scotland\nwas over.\n\nBroken in spirit and shattered in health, Hakon reached Orkney only to\ndie. Part of his fleet was ordered to proceed to Norway, and part was\nlaid up for the winter in Scapa Bay and Houton Cove. Scarcely had these\nmatters been attended to when his fatal sickness seized the king. In the\nBishop\u2019s Palace in Kirkwall he spent his last hours. Here at midnight, on\nSaturday, December 15, 1263, in the sixtieth year of his eventful life,\ndied Hakon Hakonson, the last of the great sea-kings of Norway.\n\nThe remains of the king were carried to the cathedral, where they lay in\nstate, and were afterwards temporarily interred in the choir near the\nshrine of St. Magnus. When spring came, Hakon\u2019s body was exhumed and\ntaken to Bergen in Norway, where it was finally laid to rest in the choir\nof Christ Church.\n\nAfter the death of Hakon, his son Magnus, now King of Norway, sent\nambassadors to the Scottish king to treat for peace, and a treaty was\nsigned at Perth in 1266. By this treaty Norway resigned her rights in the\nHebrides, in consideration of Scotland\u2019s paying down four thousand marks,\nbesides a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus\nCathedral, Kirkwall. This tribute, called the Annual of Norway, was the\ndirect cause of the troubles which preceded the marriage of James the\nThird of Scotland and Princess Margaret of Denmark.\n\nA large proportion of King Hakon\u2019s forces had to be maintained in Orkney\nduring the winter succeeding Largs. To provide for this, the lands of\nthe earldom were divided into sections, and charged with the maintenance\nof the soldiers in proportion to the amount of \u201cskatt\u201d each section\nowed the king. The Skatt Book of the earldom was prepared\u2014a list of\nthe lands therein, and the amount of skatt which they paid. It was the\nDomesday Book of the Orkneys. On this Skatt Book were based the Scottish\nRentals, which came into such prominence in the history of the Scottish\noppressions during the sixteenth century.\n\n[Illustration: _Ruins of the Bishop\u2019s Palace, Kirkwall._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANNEXATION TO SCOTLAND.\n\n\nThe history of Orkney during the two centuries which intervened\nbetween the battle of Largs and the annexation to Scotland contains\nlittle of interest. The earldom was held by Scottish families, first\nthe Strathernes, and then the St. Clairs. The sympathies of the earls\nwere with the Scots, the people were mainly Norse, and as a natural\nconsequence quarrels frequently arose between the earls and their\nsubjects. Another source of trouble was the fact that the earls generally\nheld possessions in Scotland, and were thus subjects of Scotland as\nwell as of Norway. The islands were neglected by both countries, being\nof little importance to Norway as governed by foreigners, and of little\ninterest to Scotland as owned by a foreign country.\n\nSeveral of the earls took a prominent part in the affairs of Scotland,\nand were men of mark and highly esteemed by the Scottish sovereigns.\nThus Magnus, the last of the Angus line, was one of the eight Scottish\nnoblemen who, in 1320, subscribed the famous letter to the Pope asserting\nthe independence of Scotland; and Henry, the second of the St. Clairs,\nwas entrusted by King Robert the Third with the task of conveying the\nyoung Prince James to a safe asylum in France, when that prince was made\nprisoner by the English.\n\nIn the history of Orkney itself the only man of note among the Scottish\nearls was Henry, the first of the St. Clairs, the builder of Kirkwall\nCastle. Henry became earl in 1379. Under his rule Orkney and Shetland\nwere once more united. He is the only one of the Scottish earls who can\nbe at all compared with the old Norse jarls of Orkney. In everything\nexcept name he was king of his island dominions, ruling them as he\npleased without much thought of either Norway or Scotland.\n\nIt was in the time of William, the third of the St. Clair earls, that\nthe transference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland took place. The\ncircumstances which led to this important event must now be related.\n\nAfter the battle of Largs a treaty of peace between Norway and Scotland\nhad been signed at Perth in 1266, Norway resigning the Hebrides in return\nfor an immediate payment by Scotland of four thousand marks, and in\naddition a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus\nCathedral, Kirkwall. For every failure to pay this tribute\u2014known in\nhistory as the Annual of Norway\u2014Scotland was liable to a penalty of ten\nthousand marks. This treaty was afterwards confirmed by Hakon the Fifth\nand Robert the Bruce at Inverness in 1312.\n\nIn 1397 Norway, Sweden, and Denmark were united under one sovereign.\nWhen, in 1448, Christian the First became king of the united realms,\npayment by Scotland of the Annual of Norway had been neglected for some\nforty years. According to the Treaty of Perth, Scotland was therefore\nliable to a penalty of over four hundred thousand marks. Christian\u2019s\nexchequer was empty; here was an opportunity of replenishing it. About\n1460 Christian made a threatening demand for payment of the whole sum due.\n\nThe sum demanded was so large that it would have been no easy matter for\nScotland to pay it, however willing she might be. Christian had concluded\nan alliance with France, and France had always been the firm friend of\nScotland. When a rupture between Denmark and Scotland seemed inevitable,\nthe French king employed all his influence to secure a compromise. He\nsuggested that a marriage should be arranged between Prince James of\nScotland, afterwards James the Third, and Margaret, Christian\u2019s daughter,\ntrusting that the negotiations in connection with the marriage would lead\nto the friendly settlement of the matters in dispute.\n\nProlonged negotiations took place between the two countries. Scotland at\nfirst demanded the remission of the Annual of Norway with arrears, the\ncession of Orkney and Shetland, and a dowry of a hundred thousand crowns.\nTo these terms Christian refused to listen. The death of James the Second\nat the siege of Roxburgh Castle suspended negotiations for a time. Some\nyears after the accession of James the Third they were resumed. The\nfinal result was the Marriage Treaty of 1468, which brought about the\ntransference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland.\n\nThe main provisions of the Marriage Treaty were these:\u2014(1.) That the\nPrincess Margaret\u2019s dowry should amount to fifty thousand florins; ten\nthousand to be paid within the year, and the islands of Orkney to be\npledged for the remaining forty thousand.\u2014Only two thousand florins were\npaid, Shetland being pledged in the following year for the remaining\neight thousand. (2.) That the rights of Christian as King of Norway\nshould be exercised in the islands by the Scottish king until the forty\nthousand florins were paid. (3.) That the islanders should enjoy their\nown customs and laws while under Scottish rule.\n\nChristian would not consent to the permanent cession of the islands to\nScotland under any conditions. In fact nothing but the direst financial\nstraits can account for his even pledging them. But he had just finished\na costly war in Sweden, his exchequer was empty, and the Scottish\nmarriage seemed to him very desirable.\n\nOn this Marriage Treaty of 1468, and on the agreement afterwards made\nwith Earl William, Scotland bases her claim to the islands of Orkney and\nShetland. It is certain that Christian intended to redeem the islands,\nand even as late as 1668 the plenipotentiaries of Europe assembled at\nBreda declared that Denmark\u2014it ought to be Norway\u2014still retained the\nright to redeem them.\n\nScottish influence in Orkney had been increasing for many years previous\nto the annexation. The needy dependants of the various Scottish noblemen\nwho held the earldom found the islands a happy hunting-ground for their\navarice or for their need. There was thus a strong party in Orkney in\nfavour of the annexation to Scotland. But the large majority of the\ninhabitants could not but regard the change of masters with dismay.\nScotland was an alien power, and had usually been a hostile one. Her laws\nand institutions had little in common with those of the northern earldom.\nBesides this, her tenure being only temporary, she had no inducement\nto promote the welfare of the islands, but on the contrary her obvious\ninterest was to make as much profit as possible from her opportunity.\n\nFrom 1468 onwards, till long after the termination of Scottish and\nthe beginning of British rule, the lot of the islanders was far from\nenviable. The transformation of the leading Norse earldom into a minor\nScottish county was the work of those years. The process by which this\nwas accomplished was a long-continued series of injuries and oppressions,\nthe story of which forms too long a tale to be fully told here.\n\n[Illustration: _Knocking Stone and Mell._]\n\n\n\n\nUDAL AND FEUDAL.\n\n\nOrkney and Shetland were handed over to Scotland, but care was taken to\nsecure the rights of the inhabitants of the islands by the provision in\nthe treaty of 1468 that they should be governed according to their own\nlaws and usages. These were different from those of Scotland in several\nimportant particulars. Unfortunately, the new Scottish rulers did not\nknow the laws of the earldom, and did not care to learn them.\n\nWith regard to the holding of land, the laws of Scotland were entirely\ndifferent from those of Orkney. In Scotland land was held according\nto the feudal system, in Orkney according to the udal system. Under\nthe feudal system the king was nominally the owner of all the lands in\nthe kingdom. The various landlords held their lands from him as their\nsuperior, in exchange for certain services to be rendered or payments to\nbe made, and by a written title, without which they had no legal claim to\nthe land.\n\nThe udal system has been described as \u201cthe direct negation of every\nfeudal principle.\u201d The udaller held his land without any written title,\nsubject to no service or payment to a superior, and with full possession\nand every conceivable right of ownership. The udaller was a peasant\nnoble; he was the king\u2019s equal and not his vassal. He owed king or jarl\nno services, duties, or payment for his udal lands, which he held as an\nabsolute possession, inalienable from him and his race.\n\nIt must not be supposed that all the land in Orkney was held udally, or\nthat all the inhabitants were udallers. There were some udallers who\nheld part of their land as tenants, and many of the islanders held no\nudal land at all. All landholders, whether udallers or tenants, had to\npay a tax, called \u201cskatt.\u201d This was a tax levied to meet the expenses of\ngovernment and defence. Skatt was paid sometimes to the King of Norway,\nsometimes to the Earl of Orkney, but it was legally the property of\nthe crown. Hakon, when he lay dying in Kirkwall, levied skatt on the\nlandholders of Orkney for the support of his troops during the winter.\nIn this he was only exercising the undoubted right of the crown of\nNorway. But the skatt was never a rent, and never carried with it the\nacknowledgment of king or jarl as the real landowner.\n\nWhen Orkney came under Scottish rule, the King of Scotland became\nentitled to the skatt. Some Scottish nobleman or churchman was usually\nappointed to collect the revenues of the crown in the earldom. This\nnobleman or churchman was paid a commission on what he collected,\ntogether with any trifles he might extort \u201cin ony manner of way.\u201d\nSometimes the revenues of the earldom were farmed out to the collector,\nan annual sum being paid by him into the royal treasury as rent. This\narrangement afforded much room for extortion, and all the more so because\nthe crown collector was ignorant, or could pretend to be ignorant, of\nOrkney law and of the udal system.\n\nIn 1471 the Scottish crown purchased from Earl William all the lands and\nrevenues which he held as Earl of Orkney. In 1472 Bishop William Tulloch\nwas appointed to collect the revenues of the crown in Orkney. The period\nof Scottish oppression at once began. The bishop was deeply imbued with\nfeudal prejudices. He had a rental drawn up, in which he registered the\nlands of udaller and tenant indiscriminately, with a studied confusion\nof their different rights. Both udal and feudal payments were exacted as\nrents from all holders of land.\n\nThe udaller had no one to whom he could appeal to right his wrongs and\nprotect him against oppression. He had no written titles. The bishop\nruled the bishopric as bishop, and he ruled the earldom as representative\nof the crown. The churches were filled with Scottish priests subservient\nto his will. The struggle was hopeless from the beginning, but it took a\ncentury to reduce the peasant nobles of Orkney to the position and rank\nof tenant farmers, and in the meantime the various rulers of the islands\nreaped a rich harvest.\n\nBishop Tulloch\u2019s rule lasted for seven years, and was followed by six\nyears under Bishop Andrew. Then in 1485 Henry St. Clair was appointed\nrepresentative of the crown in Orkney. The St. Clairs had always been\npopular in the islands, and the islanders rejoiced at the appointment\nof Lord Henry. He redressed a number of grievances, but the fundamental\nchange of udal into feudal which had begun went on unchecked. It was too\nprofitable a confusion to be put right.\n\nAfter the death of Lord Henry St. Clair at Flodden, turmoil and confusion\nreigned in the earldom. His widow, Lady Margaret Hepburn, held the crown\nlands in Orkney for nearly thirty years, but she was quite unable to rule\nthe islands. A report got abroad that the king intended to give Orkney\na feudal lord. In 1529 the trouble came to a head. James St. Clair,\nthe most popular of that popular family, was made Governor of Kirkwall\nCastle, and put himself at the head of the discontented faction. Open\nrebellion followed. Lord William St. Clair, son of Lady Margaret remained\nloyal, and had to escape to Caithness.\n\nAllied with the Earl of Caithness, Lord William invaded the islands with\na considerable force. The invaders were met at Summerdale in Stenness by\nthe rebels under James St. Clair, and were defeated with great slaughter.\nMany old stories about this battle still exist. The Caithness force\nlanded in Orphir, and on their march they are said to have encountered a\nwitch, whom they consulted as to the omens of success. She walked before\nthem, unwinding together two balls of thread, one blue and the other red.\nShe asked them to choose one of the balls as the symbol of their fortune,\nand they chose the red. The red thread was the first to come to an end.\n\nUnwilling to accept this omen, they demanded that the witch should give\nthem yet another sign. She thereupon informed the Earl of Caithness that\nwhichever side lost the first man in the fight would lose the day. Soon\nafterwards a boy was met herding cattle, and by order of the earl he was\nslain. Only after the deed was done did they discover that the boy was\nnot an Orcadian but a native of Caithness.\n\nAlready prepared for defeat by these bad omens, the invaders came upon\nthe Orcadian force at Summerdale. The Orcadians assailed them with\nshowers of stones, and the Caithness force was quickly destroyed. Only\none Orcadian is said to have fallen. He, having dressed himself in the\nclothes of one of the fallen enemy, was slain in the dusk of the evening\nas he returned home. His mother mistook him for one of the invading\nforce, and felled him by a blow with a stone in the foot of a stocking.\n\nSuch are some of the tales tradition has woven round this fight. It\nwas the last stand of the udallers, and the last pitched battle fought\non Orcadian soil, if we except the siege of Kirkwall Castle during the\nrebellion of the Stewarts.\n\nAfter the battle of Summerdale the islands still remained in a very\nunsettled condition, until in 1540 James the Fifth thought his presence\nnecessary to restore tranquillity. The king stayed with the bishop in\nKirkwall, though not in the ancient Bishop\u2019s Palace, which had witnessed\nthe death of King Hakon. The visit of the king led to the removal of many\nabuses. But his death in 1542, and the long minority of his daughter,\nMary Queen of Scots, brought back the former evils in an aggravated\nform. For twenty years the records of the islands are records of murder,\nviolence, and oppression. The udallers were now a comparatively feeble\nfolk, but their worst period of oppression was still to come.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STEWART EARLS.\n\n\nIn 1565 began the most cruel oppression which the islands suffered\nunder Scottish rule. Lord Robert Stewart, a son of James the Fifth and\nhalf-brother of the Earl of Moray, obtained a feu charter of Orkney and\nShetland. This grant was illegal in every way. It was not sanctioned\nby Parliament, and it disposed not only of the actual property which\nthe crown of Scotland had acquired in the islands, but of the lands and\nservices of the udallers or free landowners, which had never belonged\nto Norway or Denmark, and could not therefore have been acquired by\nScotland. In exchange for the revenues of the Abbey of Holyrood, the new\nearl also obtained possession of the lands and revenues of the Bishopric\nof Orkney.\n\nTo oppress the udallers so as to compel them to accept feus from him\nwas the unvarying object of Earl Robert\u2019s policy. He aggravated the\nburdens of the islanders by making them use weights and measures of his\nown devising, and increased their liabilities to him by a coinage of\nhis own valuation. He raised the rents of the tenants to the limits of\nendurance, made every occasional or special payment an annual burden,\nimposed parish taxes as household taxes, and by pretended decrees of the\nThing, or council, evicted many udallers without a show of justice. Heavy\ntolls and duties were laid on all fishermen and traders who came to the\nislands, and secret encouragement was given to pirates, whose booty was\nshared by the earl.\n\nThe more bitter the complaints of the islanders, the more grievous became\ntheir oppression. To prevent these complaints reaching the ears of the\nauthorities in Edinburgh, the earl forbade any one to cross the firths or\nferries without his permission. It began also to be whispered that Earl\nRobert was plotting to sever once more the connection between Orkney and\nthe Scottish crown. He had made additions to the old palace at Birsay,\nand on a stone over the principal gate he had caused to be inscribed:\nDOMINUS ROBERTUS STEWARTUS FILIUS JACOBI QUINTI REX SCOTORUM HOC OPUS\nINSTRUXIT\u2014that is, \u201cEarl Robert Stewart, son of James the Fifth, King of\nthe Scots, erected this building.\u201d Those who know a little Latin will\nobserve that by his using the nominative case _rex_, it is Earl Robert\nhimself and not James the Fifth whom he describes as \u201cKing of the Scots.\u201d\nThis was probably a mere mistake in the earl\u2019s Latin, but a much graver\nmeaning was attached to it by the Scottish King and Parliament when the\nwhisper of treason somehow reached their ears.\n\nThe complaints of the udallers might be unheeded, but the accusation\nof treason was a much more serious matter. The earl was summoned to\nEdinburgh to answer the charges against him. He was kept for some time\na prisoner in Linlithgow Castle, but the storm quickly blew over. No\ntrial ever took place. That ordeal Earl Robert escaped by the help of his\npowerful friends and relatives; and not only so, but in 1581 he was once\nmore granted the Earldom of Orkney and Shetland, with extended powers.\n\nWhen Robert Stewart died, the islands were granted to his son, Patrick\nStewart, the most cruel oppressor of all. Skilful in tyranny and\nextortion as Earl Robert had been, his son showed still more ability\nand ingenuity in his evil courses. The multiplication of enactments\nand penalties for the most trivial offences, confiscation, torture,\nand judicial murder\u2014these were the additions Earl Patrick made to the\nmachinery of oppression used by his father. He had palaces built for him\nat Scalloway and at Kirkwall by the same forced labour that had already\nreared Earl Robert\u2019s palace in Birsay. But Earl Patrick\u2019s career is best\ndescribed in the words of Mackenzie:\u2014\n\n\u201cEarl Patrick\u2014still remembered in Orkney tradition as \u2018Black Pate\u2019\u2014was\na man of kingly ideas, and had his lot been cast in Egypt instead of in\nOrkney, would have done very well as one of the Pharaohs. \u2018Heaven is high\nand the Czar is far away,\u2019 says a Russian proverb. Orkney is far from\nHolyrood and farther from London, and the earl did his own pleasure in\nhis domain, without having the fear of the distant king before his eyes.\n\n\u201cMost astounding and extraordinary was the system of tyranny and\nextortion which he carried on. He accused one and another of the gentry\nof the islands of high treason, and tried them in his own court. But\nit was not his object to punish these gentlemen as traitors against\nthe king. In that case their forfeited estates would go to the king,\nwhich would be no profit to the earl. The earl was not so simple. The\nfrightened udallers were glad enough to compound with the formidable earl\nby making over to him a portion of their lands to save the remainder and\ntheir own necks.\n\n\u201cThe Orkney potentate dealt in exactions of every description. He\nextorted taxes and duties. He created ferries and levied exorbitant tolls\non them. He compelled the people to work for him all manner of work. He\nforced them to row his boats and man his ships, to toil in his quarries,\nto convey stones and lime for the building of his palace and park walls,\nand to perform whatever other kinds of slave-labour he chose to demand,\n\u2018without either meat or drink or hire.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe Czar though far away sometimes hears at last. The doings of this\ntyrant of the isles attracted the attention of the law. He was seized\nand put in ward in Dumbarton Castle. What schemes were in his proud,\nfierce head it is difficult to guess. This is known, that, under his\ninstructions, his son Robert occupied the castle of Kirkwall with armed\nmen, fortified the cathedral, and stood ready to hold his own.\n\n\u201cAs soon as it became known in Edinburgh that Orkney was in rebellion,\nthe king\u2019s Secret Council dispatched the Earl of Caithness to bring it\nunder. Two great cannons were wheeled down from Edinburgh Castle and\nshipped at Leith along with a strong military force. The expedition\nlanded safely within a mile and a half of Kirkwall. The great cannons\nwere pointed against the castle. They shot and got their answer in shot.\nThe siege continued about a month, when the rebels gave in. Caithness\nreturned to Edinburgh with Robert Stewart and other prisoners, and the\ntwo great cannons passed up the High Street in triumph, to the sound\nof drum and trumpet, with the keys of Kirkwall Castle hanging at their\nmuzzles.\n\n\u201cRobert Stewart was condemned to death and hanged at the Market Cross\nalong with five of his accomplices. The people pitied him greatly, for it\nwas his father\u2019s scheming that had led him to destruction. His father\u2019s\nexecution soon followed. The ministers who tried to prepare him for\ndeath, finding him so ignorant that he could not say the Lord\u2019s Prayer,\nasked the Council to delay his execution for a few days, till he could be\nbetter informed. The request was granted, and then he went his way into\nthe great darkness.\u201d\n\nThe rebellion of Earl Patrick led to the abolition of the Thing and the\nancient laws of Orkney and Shetland, but there was little change for\nthe better in the government of the islands. They were assigned to one\nnobleman after another, no one having any interest in their improvement.\nIt was, indeed, not till the eighteenth century that any very great\neffort was made to give them the benefits of good government and a chance\nto regain somewhat of their ancient prosperity.\n\n[Illustration: _Pot Querns and Saddle Quern._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES.\n\n\nDuring the long period of oppression by the Scottish earls, the state of\nour islands had been indeed deplorable, and recovery was slow. The spirit\nwas crushed out of the people. Industry was vain when plunder was sure\nto follow. Agriculture could not advance when the alien landlord claimed\nall the profit. An Orkney writer of the eighteenth century gives a sad\npicture of the condition of the country in his day:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe inhabitants, in general, are very polite, hospitable, and kind to\nstrangers; but I am sorry to say that so little is industry encouraged\nin our country that no means can be assigned by which the lower class of\npeople can get their bread. By reason of having no employment they must\nlive very wretchedly; they become indolent and lazy to the last degree,\ninsomuch that rather than raise cabbage for their own use they will steal\nfrom others; and instead of being at pains to prepare the turf, which\nthey have for the mere trouble of cutting up and drying, yet, rather than\ndo so, they will steal it from those who are richer or more industrious\nthan themselves.... Every Saturday, which day they are privileged to\nbeg, a troop of miserable, ragged creatures are seen going from door to\ndoor, almost numerous enough to plunder the whole town were they to exert\nthemselves against it in an hostile manner\u2014at least, if their valour was\nin proportion to their distress.\u201d\n\nThe dawn of a brighter day came slowly, and it is difficult now to\ntrace the steps by which the prosperity of the islands was restored.\nAgriculture remained in a very primitive state till the nineteenth\ncentury had well begun. An Orkney \u201ctownship\u201d had a very different\nappearance in those days from what we now see. The farms were not divided\nfrom one another; each patch of cultivated ground belonged to all the\nfarmers in the township, who shared it on the \u201crun-rig\u201d system, each\n\u201crig\u201d being worked by a different owner.\n\nThe only pasture was the natural grass of meadow and hill, and this\nalso was common property. A \u201chill-dyke,\u201d usually of turf, surrounded\nthe corn-land, and formed a somewhat indifferent protection against the\nflocks of sheep, cattle, horses, and pigs which found their summer food\non the \u201chill.\u201d The names \u201cSlap\u201d and \u201cGrind,\u201d borne by farmhouses in many\ndistricts, remind us of the gateways in these old hill dykes.\n\nWith the corn-land subdivided in this way, and the pasture-land\nundivided, there was no inducement for any farmer to improve his methods\nof agriculture. Farm implements were of the rudest kind. The soil was\nscratched rather than tilled by means of wooden ploughs with only\none stilt or handle, a model of which may be seen in the museum in\nStromness. There were no carts; loads were carried pannier-fashion on the\nbacks of horses, along the rough tracks or bridle-paths which served for\nroads.\n\nOf the old style of farmhouse scarcely a relic now remains. One entrance\nusually served the farmer and his cattle, who lived under the same\nroof, though in separate apartments. In the kitchen, or \u201cbut-end,\u201d the\nfireplace was simply a raised hearth in the centre of the room, with a\nlow wall or \u201cback\u201d against which the peat-fire was built. There was no\nchimney, but a large opening in the roof allowed the smoke to escape in\na leisurely fashion. Behind the \u201cback\u201d there was often accommodation for\npoultry, calves, and other domestic animals. The better class of houses\nhad beyond the kitchen a parlour, or \u201cben-end,\u201d which was used only on\ngreat occasions.\n\nRough and primitive as was their manner of life, yet at the beginning of\nlast century the Orcadians had already made a very considerable advance\nin prosperity. A writer of the time tells us that the small farmers had\nmore money among them than could be found among people of similar station\nin any other part of the British Isles.\n\nIt was not till the second quarter of the century that the land was\ndivided up into separate farms, and modern methods of agriculture began\nto be employed, with rotation of crops and improved implements. A little\nlater the beginning was made of the system of roads which now spreads in\na network over the islands.\n\nWhile agriculture was yet in its infancy, the islands were much benefited\nby various forms of industry and occupation which have now mostly fallen\ninto disuse, as the need for their help has passed away. One of these\nindustries, introduced towards the end of the eighteenth century, was the\nspinning of flax and the weaving of linen. Flax was largely grown in the\nislands at one time, and the dressing, spinning, and weaving of it was a\ncommon occupation.\n\nAbout the beginning of the nineteenth century the manufacture of\nstraw-plait was introduced, and soon took the place of the linen\nindustry. It is said that over six thousand women and girls were at one\ntime employed in straw-plaiting. Though the workers were paid but little,\nand that usually not in money but in goods, the straw-plaiting increased\nconsiderably the wealth and the trade of the county.\n\nThe manufacture of kelp was introduced early in the eighteenth century,\nand gave occupation to many of the inhabitants. Large profits were made\nin this business, not so much, of course, by the actual workers as by the\nlandlords and other agents who exported the kelp. At one time, indeed,\nit seemed as if the attention given to this industry was to prove a\nhindrance to the advance of agriculture, which is the only foundation of\ntrue prosperity in these islands; and when other substances began to take\nthe place of kelp, the decline of this trade was really a benefit to the\nislands.\n\nFishing has always been an important industry in Orkney, but it was not\ntill near the middle of the nineteenth century that the improvements\nin boats and in gear made the fisheries a really valuable asset to the\nislanders. Fishing, however, cannot be called one of those temporary\nindustries which we mentioned. The herring fishery and the white\nfishing, as well as other branches of this industry, have continued to\nincrease, and next to agriculture, fishing is the great natural source of\nwealth for the people.\n\nDuring the centuries now under our notice, Orkney had a closer connection\nwith the seafaring life than it has to-day. When all trade was carried\non by sailing ships, and when westerly winds were quite as common as\nthey now are, vessels passing through the Pentland Firth for America or\nelsewhere found Stromness a convenient port of call, and its harbour\nwas often crowded with shipping. This was especially the case during\nthe French wars of the eighteenth century, when the English Channel\nwas avoided by shipping as being too near the enemy\u2019s shores. Fleets\nof trading ships used to gather at Stromness while waiting a convoy of\nmen-of-war to accompany them across the Atlantic.\n\nAn interesting relic of those busy times in Stromness is the old\nWarehouse and Warehouse Pier at the north end of that town. This store\nwas built about the middle of the eighteenth century for the convenience\nof the rice ships from America, as being the safest place for them to\ndischarge their cargoes. Before the end of the century, however, the\nStromness Warehouse was deserted in favour of Cowes in the Isle of Wight.\nA writer of the time makes out a strong case in favour of Stromness and\nagainst the English Channel, but the fact that Cowes is nearer to London\nseems to have settled the matter in favour of that port.\n\nDuring these prolonged naval wars, it is said that as many as twelve\nthousand Orkneymen served in the navy. Many of them went as volunteers,\nbut probably most of them served against their will, as the pressgang\nwas very active among the islands. Many a young sailor who began his\nvoyage on a peaceful trader was soon transferred to one of His Majesty\u2019s\nships. Traditions of those troublous times are still preserved among many\nfamilies in the islands. Hundreds of these men were never heard of again,\nfor those were not the days of telegraphs and war correspondents. The\nyears passed, and the son or the brother did not return, but when or how\nhe fell his friends never knew. It was a heavy war-tax the islands paid;\nthe full extent of it has never been disclosed.\n\nAbout 1740 the ships of the Hudson\u2019s Bay Company began to visit the\nislands, not only to wait for a wind to start them on their annual\nvoyage, but to engage labourers and tradesmen to carry on the fur trade\namong the Indians of the west and north of Canada. The connection thus\nbegun is not yet quite extinct, but in the earlier part of the nineteenth\ncentury there was a constant stream of young men flowing to the Far West.\nAt one time from fifty to a hundred men left Stromness for Hudson Bay\nevery summer. Some remained as pioneers and colonists; some returned\nafter a sojourn of five years or more, with a tidy sum of money to start\nthem as farmers or tradesmen at home. Many of them who settled in the\nGreat Lone Land rose to high positions in the Company\u2019s service. The most\nfamous of this band of empire-builders was Dr. John Rae, the discoverer\nof the fate of the ill-starred Franklin Expedition, and a noted Arctic\nexplorer, whose monument may be seen in the nave of St. Magnus Cathedral.\n\nThe Company then ruled over the greater portion of what is now the\nDominion of Canada. The names of Fort York, Moose Factory, and Red River\nwere as familiar to the Orkney boys of those days as Edinburgh, Glasgow,\nand Aberdeen are to us to-day. But Canada changed even more than Orkney\nduring the latter part of the nineteenth century, and the great Hudson\u2019s\nBay Company have now handed over their vast territories to the rule of\nthe Dominion. The fur trade still exists in the North-West, and there are\nOrkneymen still in the employment of the Company; but the days have gone\nby when this was one of the chief industries of the wander-loving sons of\nour islands.\n\nAfter the \u201cNor\u2019-Wast,\u201d as the Hudson Bay service was called, the\n\u201cStraits\u201d had the next claim on our youth. The Davis Strait whale-fishing\nfleet made an annual visit to our islands to complete their crews. This\nwas in the spring or \u201cvore,\u201d when the crops were in the ground, and many\nmen, both young and middle-aged, looked to the annual whaling trip to\nthe north as a means of gain, just as their Norse ancestors did to the\nannual \u201cvore-viking\u201d raid on the richer shores of the South. This also\nhas passed away; the harpoon and whale-lance are rarely seen in the\nislands; whales and whaling fleet alike have almost become extinct. But\nwhile agriculture was still in its infancy in Orkney, the \u201cStraits\u201d gave\nmuch-needed employment and modest gains to many of our hardy forefathers.\n\nThe general tendency of life in Orkney has been away from dependence\nupon the sea for a living, and towards agriculture and the trade and\ncommerce which it brings with it. In its methods of farming and in its\ngeneral prosperity the county now compares well with any other part of\nthe kingdom. But most of this progress has been made during the last half\ncentury or so.\n\nIt was in 1833 that the Aberdeen, Leith, and Clyde Shipping Company, now\nthe North of Scotland and Orkney and Shetland Navigation Company, first\ndecided to send one of their steamers\u2014the _Velocity_\u2014to call at Kirkwall.\nThe call was made once a fortnight, and only during the months of June,\nJuly, and August. The mails were then carried across the Pentland Firth\nin a small boat. The growth in traffic since that time is indicated by\nthe fact that the trade and commerce of the islands now requires the\nweekly call of two steamers at Kirkwall and three at Stromness, with a\ndaily mail steamer to both towns, in addition to numerous occasional\ntrips of other steamers and sailing vessels, especially during the\nfishing season, while four smaller steamers maintain communication\nbetween the various islands.\n\nThe Orkney farmer still has a somewhat niggardly soil and a stormy\nclimate to contend with. His acres are few, and his boys will often turn\nto richer lands to seek their fortune. But life in these islands to-day\nis easy and comfortable compared with what it was during any of the ten\ncenturies whose history we have passed in brief review.\n\nThe boys and girls who aim at seeking wealth and fame in other lands,\nthough by other means than those of their Viking ancestors, may now set\nforth on their voyage as well equipped by education and otherwise as the\nyouth of any country in the world. Those who remain at home will still\nfind a worthy task in carrying on the improvement of the homeland, as\ntheir fathers have done; for whatever stage of progress we may attain, it\nis never merely an end but also a beginning.\n\n[Illustration: _Old-fashioned Fireplace_]\n\n\n\n\nPart II.\u2014The Isles and the Folk.\n\n\n\n\nA SURVEY OF THE ISLANDS.\n\n\nOn Wideford Hill.\n\nThere is no better view-point from which to make a general survey of the\nOrcadian Archipelago than Wideford Hill. It is less than half the height\nof the Ward Hill of Hoy, but it is at once more central and more easily\naccessible. The Ward Hill of Orphir exceeds it in height by nearly one\nhundred and fifty feet, and affords a much finer view to the westward;\nbut Wideford Hill is more isolated from other hills, and from its summit\nwe can obtain a better general outlook over the islands.\n\nWideford Hill rises to a height of seven hundred and forty feet, and,\nstanding within two miles of Kirkwall, it may be easily approached either\nfrom the main Stromness road over the Ayre, or from the old road above\nthe site of the Lammas market. If we choose the right kind of day, when a\ncool northerly breeze gives us a horizon free from haze, and when thin\ngray clouds veil the sun only at intervals, we shall see from Wideford a\npanorama which surpasses in loveliness and in human interest that seen\nfrom many a mountain top.\n\nThe charm of Orkney scenery lies in its colour rather than its form,\nin its luminous distances rather than its immediate foreground, in its\nrestfulness rather than its grandeur. The landscape does not overwhelm\nthe beholder with a sense of his puny insignificance, as great mountains\nare apt to do; it wins his love by suggestions of peace and of home.\n\nBut let us look around and note what we see. Far to the southward lies\nthe silvery streak of the Pentland Firth, very innocent now in its summer\ncalm. Beyond it stretch the low shores of Caithness; and in the blue\ndistance we see Morven and the mountains of Sutherland, the \u201csouthern\nland\u201d of the Norsemen. Nearer is the green expanse of South Ronaldsay,\nmuch foreshortened to the view, with the lighthouse towers of the\nPentland Skerries showing beyond, and the island of Burray at its nearer\nend. To the right, over Scapa Flow, rises the long brown ridge of Hoy,\nseparated by streaks of shimmering sea from Flotta, Fara, Cava, and its\nother neighbours. Very stern and solemn look its heath-clad heights as\nthe passing shadows fall across them.\n\nThe whole of the East Mainland lies at our feet\u2014Deerness, bright and\nsunny, with the Moul Head stretching boldly out to sea; nearer is St.\nAndrews, and Holm, half hidden by the ridge of high ground in the north\nof that parish; and, nearer still, St. Ola, deeply cut into by the Bays\nof Kirkwall and Scapa, which look as if they only awaited the next spring\ntide to join hands across the narrow isthmus, the Peerie Sea lying ready\nto do its part.\n\n[Illustration: _Round about Kirkwall._]\n\nKirkwall, the \u201cKirk Voe\u201d of the Norsemen, is more worthy of its name\nto-day than when the little church of St. Olaf was the chief object in\nthe landscape. Approach it how we may, the great Cathedral of St. Magnus\narrests our attention. Seen from Wideford Hill the tower does not break\nthe skyline, as it does from the sea; yet the mass of sombre reddish\nmasonry asserts itself, and dominates the pearl-gray cluster of walls and\nroofs that spreads around, as it has done for nearly eight hundred years.\n\n\u201cTame\u201d and \u201cuninteresting\u201d are the words often used to describe the\nappearance of our island capital. It does not seem so to-day. As the\neye sweeps down over the purple shoulder of the hill to the green\nfields below, and passes over the silver gleam of the water with broken\nreflections of tower and gable beyond, it rests upon a picture filled\nwith many charms of line, mass, and colour, from which the deep cool\ngreen of tree and shrub is not wholly wanting. Open to the north and\nthe south by the \u201cViking path\u201d of the sea, and joined to the east and\nthe west by more modern paths, the thin white lines of curving roadway,\nKirkwall shows itself the natural focus of our island commerce and social\nlife, and the centre of a wide and fair landscape.\n\nNorthward and westward next we turn our view. Kirkwall Bay opens out into\nthe \u201cWide Fiord,\u201d which doubtless gave our hill its name, and westward\ninto the \u201cAurrida Fiord,\u201d or Sea-trout Firth, which first gave its name\nto the parish of Firth, and then received in exchange its present name,\nthe Bay of Firth. Its shores are low and well cultivated, but to the\nnorth rises the dark brown ridge formed by the hills of Firth and of\nRendall, which hide from our view most of the parish of Evie and parts of\nHarray and Birsay.\n\nTo the left of this ridge, through the central valley of Firth and\nStenness, a charming vista opens out. A rich and fertile sweep of low\nground forms the basin of the great lochs, and on the long peninsula\nbetween them we can distinguish the Standing Stones rising as needle\npoints against the blue expanse of the Loch of Stenness. The green mound\nof Maeshowe, too, is clearly visible. Far away, over the cultivated\nslopes of Sandwick, we see the soft shimmer of the Atlantic, and to the\nnorthward the undulating skyline of the Birsay Hills.\n\nDue west from where we stand the view is shut in by the long ridge of the\nKeelylang Hills and the bold outline of the Ward Hill of Orphir, and the\nfairest part of the West Mainland, Stromness, with its bays and islets,\nis beyond our ken. To enjoy a view of these we must take our stand upon\nthe Ward Hill itself, but this will come into the programme of another\nday.\n\nOf the island-studded sea to the north and east we have not yet spoken.\nWe can hardly disentangle the maze of sounds and bays, of holms and\npromontories, except by the aid of a map, and if we are wise we shall\nhave one in our pocket. With this before us the maze becomes clear. The\nbold hills of Rousay stand clear of the Mainland to the north, with\nthe lower islands of Gairsay, Wyre or Veira, and Egilsay near at hand.\nWestray is all but hidden, but the blue ridge of Eday stands boldly\nforth, shutting out from view the greater portion of Sanday and North\nRonaldsay. The tall lighthouse pillar on the Start, however, is clearly\nseen.\n\nClose to Kirkwall Bay, and protecting it from the eastern sea, lies the\nfertile island of Shapinsay, with Balfour Castle standing in clear view\namong its gardens. Beyond we see the bold outline of Stronsay, and to the\nsouth of it Auskerry and its lighthouse.\n\nNow we let our eye rest on the horizon, a sharp and clear line where we\ncan trace the smoke of trawlers and other craft which are themselves\nhidden by the great curve of the ocean plain. There, right over Balfour\nCastle, something catches our eye. It might be the smoke of a passing\nsteamer, but it does not change its form as we look; it stands clear and\nsharp, a tiny blue pyramid showing over the horizon. There is only one\nthing it can be\u2014the Fair Isle, distant some sixty miles from where we\nstand! Only on rare occasions is this lonely sea-girt rock so free from\ncloud and mist that its top is thus to be distinguished. Yet if we know\nwhere to look for it, we may occasionally see it as we do to-day; and it\nis useful to remember that from Wideford Hill its bearing is directly\nover Balfour Castle.\n\n\nAmong the North Isles.\n\nA glance at the map of Orkney will show that most of the important\nislands lie north of the Mainland. The term \u201cNorth Isles,\u201d however, is\ngenerally used to mean only the more distant of these\u2014Stronsay, Eday,\nSanday, North Ronaldsay, and Westray, with the smaller islands adjacent\nto them. These can be visited by steamer from Kirkwall in one day, with\nthe exception of North Ronaldsay; and at the same time a good view can\nbe obtained of the nearer islands\u2014Shapinsay and Rousay, with the smaller\ngroup of Egilsay, Wyre, and Gairsay. North Ronaldsay may also be seen on\nthe far north-eastern horizon.\n\nLeaving Kirkwall pier in the early morning, we sail northwards out of the\nbay, when the String opens on our right, and Shapinsay is close at hand.\nThere, sheltered by Helliar Holm, we notice the bay of Ellwick, where,\nin 1263, King Haco moored his hundred ships when on that ill-starred\nexpedition which ended at Largs. West of the bay stands Balfour Castle,\nthe finest specimen of modern domestic architecture in the islands,\nsurrounded by its noted gardens.\n\nThe sea to the west of Shapinsay is dotted with shoals and skerries;\nbut as we pass Gairsay on the left and sail round Galt Ness, the\nnorth-western point of Shapinsay, we find open water before us, and steer\nnorth-east towards Eday, passing the Green Holms on our way.\n\nEday, the first island at which we call, is hilly and heath-clad, with\nabundance of peat. Ever since the days of Torf Einar, no doubt, it has\nyielded a supply of peat for such unprovided islands as Sanday, up to\nmodern times when coal has come into more general use. Even yet the peat\nindustry is considerable, and Eday peats have been recently seen in use\nfor drying malt in a distillery near Edinburgh. The most interesting part\nof Eday, however, is the north end of the island, where our steamer will\ncall later in the day.\n\n[Illustration: ORKNEY ISLANDS]\n\nFrom Eday we cross to Stronsay, keeping to the north of that island,\nand then turning southwards to the village of Whitehall in Papa Sound,\nprotected on the north-east by the small island of Papa Stronsay. This\nsheltered roadstead so near the open eastern sea has long been an\nimportant centre of the herring fishery. About the middle of last century\nas many as four hundred Orkney boats and many from the Scottish mainland\nfound anchorage in Papa Sound. In modern times Stronsay has again risen\nin importance as a fishing station.\n\nStronsay is one of the best agricultural districts in Orkney, and is\nnoted for the size and the excellence of its farms. Near Lamb Head, in\nthe extreme south-east of Stronsay, are the remains of a very extensive\npier, erected before the time of the Norsemen.\n\nLeaving Whitehall pier, we next sail due north across Sanday Sound to\nKettletoft Bay in Sanday. This bay and that of Otterswick in the north\nafford safe anchorage; but the low, flat island, with its numerous\nprojecting points and skerries, presents many dangers to navigation. As\nearly as 1529 a lighthouse was erected on the extreme eastern point of\nthe island, and was called the Star, from which, it is said, the headland\nderived its name, Start Point. Long after that time, however, the island\nwas noted for the number of shipwrecks which occurred on its shores.\n\nSanday is emphatically the \u201cSand Island.\u201d Its soil is sandy and generally\nfertile, and its surface is low and flat. Only in the south-west is there\nany rising ground, where the highest point in the island reaches a height\nof a little over two hundred feet.\n\n[Illustration: _Orkney Villages.\u2014I._\n\n1. St. Margaret\u2019s Hope, South Ronaldsay. 2. Pierowall, Westray. 3.\nWhitehall, Stronsay. 4. Finstown, Firth.]\n\nFrom Kettletoft pier our course is now south-west, until we double Spur\nNess, the most southerly point of Sanday; then turning northwards, we\nmake for Calf Sound, at the north end of Eday. This sheltered channel,\nbetween Eday and the Calf of Eday, is memorable as the scene of the\ncapture of the pirate Gow in 1725.\n\nGow, or Smith, was a native of Stromness, where \u201cGow\u2019s Garden,\u201d a name\ngiven to a patch of ground on the east side of the harbour, afterwards\noccupied by a shipbuilding yard, seems to mark the site of his father\u2019s\nhouse. The name Gow, however, which is the Gaelic equivalent of Smith,\nindicates a Scottish rather than an Orcadian descent. In 1724 Gow was\nsailing as second mate on board the _George_, an English vessel of two\nhundred tons, mounting eighteen guns, and trading on the Barbary coast.\nHe and several others of the crew mutinied, murdered the captain, and\nstarted on what proved to be a very brief career of piracy.\n\nAfter a few months\u2019 cruising, Gow carried his ship, now named the\n_Revenge_, into Stromness to refit; but as he soon made the place too hot\nfor safety, he put to sea in February 1725. Having sailed north round\nWestray, he turned south towards Eday, and in beating through Calf Sound\nran his ship aground on the Calf, opposite Carrick House, then occupied\nby Mr. James Fea of Clestran. To him Gow applied for help to get his ship\noff the rocks; but the opportunity was too good to be missed, and Fea by\nvarious stratagems succeeded in making prisoners of Gow and his crew.\nThey were handed over to the authorities, and afterwards suffered the\npenalty of their crimes in London.\n\nNearly a century later, in 1814, Sir Walter Scott made his memorable\nvisit to Orkney and Shetland, and the legends which he collected\nregarding Gow formed a centre round which he wove his well-known story,\n\u201cThe Pirate.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Noltland Castle._]\n\nCarrick was at one time the site of a thriving manufacture of salt, but\nthat too is now a tale of the past.\n\nOn leaving Carrick our steamer passes out of Calf Sound between the Red\nHead on the west and the Grey Head on the east, so named from the colour\nof their sandstone cliffs. The stone of the former has been much in\nfavour for building purposes, as St. Magnus Cathedral can testify, and\nhas on occasion found its way as far south as London.\n\nA north-westerly course now brings us to Pierowall in Westray, our last\nport of call. The long, low island guarding it on the north-east, fertile\nand well cultivated, is Papa Westray. Towards its south end is a small\nlake, on a holm in which are the ruins of a chapel dedicated to St.\nTredwall, a place of great sanctity in former days, and a special shrine\nfor such pilgrims as suffered from sore eyes. Long after the Reformation,\nindeed, we are told that the minister of the island had much difficulty\nin preventing his flock from resorting thither to pay their devotions to\nthe saint before assembling in the church.\n\n[Illustration: _Noup Head Lighthouse._]\n\nThe chief point of interest in Westray is Noltland Castle, now roofless\nindeed, but scarcely yet a ruin. It was built early in the fifteenth\ncentury by Bishop Tulloch, and afterwards passed into the hands of\nSir Gilbert Balfour, Master of the Household to Mary Queen of Scots.\nAfter the escape of the unfortunate queen from Lochleven Castle, he was\nordered to prepare Noltland for her reception. Had the ill-fated Mary\nturned northwards instead of southwards when the day went against her\nat Langside, and had she sought shelter among these northern islands\ninstead of trusting to the tender mercies of her cousin and rival, Queen\nElizabeth, what a romantic chapter might have been added to the history\nof Orkney!\n\n[Illustration: _North Ronaldsay Lighthouse._]\n\nWestray contains much good arable land, and supports a large population.\nOn the west side the scenery is bold and romantic; and from Fitty Hill,\nwhich is over five hundred and fifty feet in height, the view extends\nto Foula in Shetland and the Fair Isle. The cliffs facing the Atlantic\nare lofty and picturesque. About a mile south of Noup Head, the western\nextremity of the island, is the Gentlemen\u2019s Cave, where five Orcadian\nadherents of \u201cPrince Charlie\u201d are said to have found shelter for several\nmonths after the \u201c\u2019Forty-five.\u201d\n\nFrom Fitty Hill we may obtain a distant view of North Ronaldsay, the\nmost northerly and perhaps the most verdant island of the group.\nSeparated from its nearest neighbour, Sanday, by the wild and stormy\nNorth Ronaldsay Firth, the crossing of which in the usual open boat is\noften dangerous, even when possible, this island impresses the visitor as\nbeing very much cut off from the world. But in such matters all depends\nupon comparison, and doubtless there are many who regard the whole of our\nislands as similarly remote and inaccessible.\n\nA stone dyke surrounds the island of North Ronaldsay, outside which a\nnumber of native sheep pick up a living on the \u201cbanks\u201d and even in the\n\u201cebb.\u201d On the most northerly point, near Dennis Head, stands one of the\nfinest of our lighthouses; for North Ronaldsay, like Sanday, has been the\nscene of many a shipwreck.\n\nOur return from Westray to Kirkwall is made direct, and we now keep to\nthe west of Eday, passing Faray and its Holm, and having the heath-clad\nhills of Rousay clear in view to the westward. Rousay far surpasses the\nother islands of the northern group in its hill and cliff scenery, its\nhighest elevation reaching eight hundred and twenty feet, and its western\nshore presenting many romantic effects in stack and cave. Among its other\nattractive features are the Loch of Wasbister, in the north; the Burn of\nWestness and Westness House, overlooking the sacred isle of Eynhallow\nand the tumultuous Roost of Burgar; and the modern mansion of Trumbland,\nlooking out on the calm sound and the green island of Veira or Wyre.\n\nNearer our course, however, lies the long, low stretch of Egilsay, the\n\u201cChurch Island\u201d of the Norsemen, where the saintly Earl Magnus was done\nto death. The present ruined church, with its far-seen round tower,\nthough of later date, doubtless occupies the site of that earlier church\nwhich was the scene of his murder.\n\nWyre, too, soon opens out to view, with its ruined chapel, and the mound\nwhich marks the traditional site of \u201cCubbie Roo\u2019s Castle,\u201d the home of\nthe once formidable Kolbein Hruga, whose name is even yet used to terrify\ninto good behaviour some obstreperous youngster, in the awful threat,\n\u201cCubbie Roo\u2019ll get thee!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Westness, Eynhallow, and Costa Head._]\n\nGairsay, with its rounded hill over three hundred feet high, next claims\nour attention, and the name of Sweyn Holm, lying off its eastern shore,\nrecalls to us Sweyn Asleifson and the great drinking-hall which he built\non the island when he made it his winter home: the summer home of the\nstout old Viking was on board his long-ship. But now the tower of St.\nMagnus rising ahead reminds us that our day\u2019s sail is at an end, and we\nare shortly alongside Kirkwall pier once more.\n\n\nAmong the South Isles.\n\nFor a visit to the South Isles of Orkney, Stromness is our best\nstarting-point. It is the natural centre of communication for this\ngroup\u2014or rather for the western division of the group, for South\nRonaldsay and Burray may be visited equally well from Kirkwall by way of\nScapa Bay. The small steamer which makes the regular round of the islands\nwill serve us for the beginning of our tour, but we must soon branch off\nfrom the ordinary route if we are to see much of interest.\n\n[Illustration: _Stromness Harbour._]\n\nThe green island of Graemsay, with its beach of gleaming white sand,\nlooks very attractive as we sail out of Stromness harbour. Its chief\nattraction to visitors is the lofty tower of the East Lighthouse, which\nserves, along with the lower West Lighthouse, to guide ships through the\nswift tideway of Hoy Sound. The official name, indeed, for these lights\nis not Graemsay, but Hoy.\n\n[Illustration: _Graemsay East Lighthouse._]\n\nGraemsay is separated from Hoy by Burra Sound, and here we shall leave\nour steamer, landing at Linksness, the best starting-point for the long\nwalk and climb which we have before us. Hoy is next to the Mainland in\nsize, but little of its surface is cultivated, and roads are few and far\nbetween. So we strike westward, and, leaving cultivation behind, make\nfor the Meadow of the Kame, keeping the Ward Hill and its neighbour the\nCuilags on our left. There is a famous echo here, which we may stop to\ntest before beginning the climb to the Kame itself\u2014a long ridge some\ntwelve hundred feet high, which runs from the Cuilags to the sheer\nprecipice on the north.\n\nThe coast-line we now reach is one of the loftiest in the British Isles,\nrising at St. John\u2019s Head to a perpendicular height of 1,140 feet. With\ndue care we may approach the edge and look down this fearful and giddy\nheight, but it is not a place for foolhardy daring. The view of this\nstupendous cliff, with the white surges breaking a thousand feet below\nin a slow and strangely noiseless movement, and the seagulls flitting\nlike midges in their mazy dance midway between us and the blue water, is\nsomething which cannot be described and cannot be forgotten.\n\nBeyond St. John\u2019s Head the ground falls to half the height or less,\nand a couple of miles brings us to the far-famed Old Man of Hoy. This\nwonderful pillar stands well out from the cliff, on a ledge of rock which\nconnects with the land near sea-level. The height of the pillar is four\nhundred and fifty feet; that of the cliff on which we stand is about\nfifty feet less. Tradition tells us that the Old Man of Hoy has suffered\nconsiderably from the battering of wind and wave even within recent\ntimes. It is said that he formerly stood on two legs, but that many years\nago part of the divided base fell before the Atlantic breakers, and\nleft him standing on one leg, as we now see him. Doubtless time and the\nweather will one day lay him low, but in the meantime he looks fairly\nsolid and durable.\n\nAnother mile or more and we reach Rora Head, the most westerly point of\nOrkney, and turn southeastward towards Rackwick Bay, and now one of the\nfinest views in all the islands meets our gaze. Beyond the deep glen\nat our feet stretches the great western sea-wall, gleaming red in the\nsunshine. In the bay below us the rollers are breaking in ceaseless foam\nover a strip of shining sand and gravel. The little township of Rackwick\nis a patchwork of green and gold, contrasting strangely with the dark\nglen and the towering hills behind.\n\n[Illustration: _The Old Man of Hoy._]\n\nThe glen itself, we find as we make the descent into it, is a bit of true\nhighland scenery\u2014the only bit, indeed, which Orkney has to show. Its\nrugged, lonely grandeur is unique in these islands. Heather and bracken,\nwild rose and honeysuckle, juniper, dwarf birch, and willow mingle in\nsuch luxuriance as to suggest a more favoured latitude. The glen of\nBerriedale, which opens out of the main valley to the west, is sometimes\ncalled the \u201cGarden of Orkney,\u201d but it is a garden of nature\u2019s own.\n\nHoy is for the most part of a sterner aspect, as we shall quickly find\nif we cross the valley and dare to attack the Ward Hill. The only risk\nwe shall run in doing so will be that of stiff limbs for several days\nto come, unless, indeed, a sudden descent of cloud or mist should find\nus unprovided with a guide who knows the \u201clay of the land.\u201d The sturdy\nluxuriance of the heather is likely to be our chief difficulty in the\nclimb.\n\nStanding at last on the summit of the Ward Hill, we find ourselves at\na height of 1,564 feet above the sea, on a somewhat bare and stony\nplateau, and not far from the highest point there is, curiously enough,\nan excellent spring of water. A very clear day is necessary if we are\nto enjoy the sight of all that this elevation commands. We shall then\nsee the whole archipelago spread out before us as on a map\u2014a marvellous\npanorama of sea and land. Even the Fair Isle shows its conical head above\nthe north-eastern horizon. The north coast of Scotland stretches out\nwestward to Cape Wrath, and in the blue distance to the southwards many\na peak of the Northern Highlands can be distinguished.\n\nIf we descend the hill on its southern slope, we shall find a short\nthough a steep way to the next point of interest in Hoy\u2014the Dwarfie\nStone. The description of this curious relic of the industry of some\nunknown workman has been well given by Hugh Miller, whose name may still\nbe read carved on its bare interior, while the legendary interest may\nbest be gathered from Sir Walter Scott in his notes to \u201cThe Pirate.\u201d\n\nSouth of the valley in which the Dwarfie Stone lies, the ground rises\nto a long stretch of moorland, broken only by burns and lochs, till it\ndips down to the fringe of low, cultivated ground round Longhope, in the\nparish of Walls. This part of the island, however, is too distant to be\nincluded in our day\u2019s excursion, and may be visited direct by steamer\nfrom Stromness some other day.\n\nLonghope, as we shall then see, is a sheltered bay nearly four miles long\nand about one mile in average width, and forms a magnificent natural\nharbour. Before the days of steam as many as a hundred and fifty vessels\nmight be seen at anchor here, sheltered from the westerly gales which\nbarred their passage through the Pentland Firth. The martello towers on\neither side of the entrance remind us of a time when storms were not\nthe only danger to our shipping. Protection of a kind more necessary\nto-day is afforded by the strong revolving light on Cantick Head, and on\noccasion by the Longhope lifeboat, the heroism of whose hardy crew has\noften shown itself in deeds of noble daring such as no sea-roving Viking\nof the ancient days could have surpassed.\n\nAt the western extremity of Longhope stands the mansion house of\nMelsetter, with its extensive gardens. On the farther side of the bay is\nSouth Walls, a peninsula which is literally \u201calmost an island,\u201d as the\nwaters of Aith Hope almost meet those of Longhope across a narrow \u201caith\u201d\nor isthmus.\n\nOpposite the entrance to Longhope, whence we start on our return journey\nto Stromness, we pass the island of Flotta, the \u201cflat island\u201d of the\nNorsemen, thriving and well cultivated, especially towards the east,\nwhere it curves round Pan Hope. To the south of it lies the green\nisland of Switha, to the north-east the tiny Calf of Flotta, and to the\nnorth-west, off Mill Bay, the island of Faray. Farther north, and close\nto the shore of Hoy, lies Risa, or Risa Little, a favourite nesting-place\nof many of our sea-birds. The last island we notice on our homeward sail\nis Cava, a couple of miles eastward of which we see the beacon which\nmarks a skerry known as the Barrel of Butter.\n\nThe eastern group of the South Isles is more closely connected with the\nEast Mainland, being divided from Holm by Holm Sound, where lie the two\ngreen islets of Lamb Holm and Glims Holm. Immediately to the south is\nBurray, the _Borgarey_ of the Norsemen, so called, doubtless, from the\ntwo brochs or _borgs_ whose ruins still exist in the north of the island.\nTo the west of Burray lies the peat-covered islet of Hunda.\n\nSouth of Burray, across the narrow channel of Water Sound, lies the large\nand populous island of South Ronaldsay. At the head of the little bay\nof the same name stands the neat and thriving village\u2014almost a town\u2014of\nSt. Margaret\u2019s Hope, pleasantly situated among its fertile gardens and\nfields, and with a substantial pier to accommodate its increasing traffic.\n\nWestward from \u201cThe Hope\u201d lies Hoxa, a peninsula cut off by Widewall Bay\non the south. On the narrow isthmus or \u201caith\u201d stands a green mound, the\n\u201chaug,\u201d or howe, from which the name of _Haugseith_ or Hoxa is derived.\nOn the shores of Widewall Bay at low water we may see the submerged\npeat-moss and decaying remains of large trees which mark a bygone stage\nin the climate of the islands, and likewise tell of gradual subsidence of\nthe land.\n\nFrom south to north, South Ronaldsay measures about seven miles. The\nsurface is well cultivated, and the highest point, the Ward Hill, is\nonly some three hundred and sixty feet high. The bay of Burwick, in the\nsouth-west corner of the island, was formerly the landing-place for\nthe south mails, which were carried across the Pentland Firth in an\nopen boat. Some of the rock scenery in the southern part is very fine,\nespecially \u201cThe Gloup,\u201d near Halcro Head, an open pit near the shore into\nwhich the sea enters by a subterranean channel.\n\nTo the south-west we see the lonely, storm-swept island of Swona with its\nhalf-dozen or so of houses, and to the south rise the twin lighthouse\ntowers on the Pentland Skerries, only one of which is now used as a\nlight. Here we reach the southern extremity of the county, some forty\nmiles in a straight line from North Ronaldsay, the extreme northern point.\n\n\n\n\nROUND THE MAINLAND.\n\n\nFirst Day.\n\nThe best way to see the Mainland, and the only way to appreciate its\nextent and the variety of its scenery, is to make use of the excellent\nroads by which it is now traversed and encircled. On this tour the\nbicycle will be our best conveyance; and if we can secure the company\nof a congenial friend, we may spend a few days very pleasantly and\nprofitably on a ride round the Mainland.\n\nWe shall begin with the East Mainland. Leaving Kirkwall by the Deerness\nroad, we shortly afterwards find ourselves skimming down the long brae\nof Wideford\u2014not Wideford Hill, but the farm of Wideford, about two miles\nsouth-east of the town. On our left is the wide expanse of Inganess Bay,\nwith its beach of sand and shingle, where we can recall seeing on one\nmemorable occasion a school of whales stranded after a great whale hunt:\nthat was in our early school days, now rapidly becoming a part of the\ntime known as \u201clong ago.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Orkney Villages.\u2014II._\n\n1. St. Mary\u2019s, Holm. 2. Orphir. 3. Kettletoft, Sanday. 4. Finstown. 5.\nBalfour Village, Shapinsay. 6. Evie.]\n\nWe next pass the long, low peninsula of Tankerness, which lies between\nInganess Bay and Deer Sound. On its south side, between the loch and the\nshore, stands the Hall of Tankerness, its position marked out by one of\nthose rare patches of dark green which indicate that trees may still be\nmade to grow in Orkney under intelligent fostering care. The cliffs near\nRerwick Head are worth a visit. There are several caves, one of which,\ntradition affirms, gave refuge for weeks to one of the Covenanters who\nwere shipwrecked at Deerness in 1679.\n\nAfter passing through the parish of St. Andrews, we reach that of\nDeerness. Deerness is literally a peninsula\u2014very nearly an island indeed.\nThe isthmus which joins it to the Mainland is not only narrow but low and\nsandy, and in former days mariners approaching from the south sometimes\noverlooked its existence when making for shelter, and came to grief\naccordingly. On this narrow neck of land is found an ancient mound or\n_haug_, which bears the name of Dingishowe.\n\nDeerness is on the whole flat, the highest point in the peninsula, the\nWard, being only 285 feet above the sea. Yet the view from the road,\nwhich crosses the centre of the parish, is very extensive. To the south\nwe notice the island of Copinsay, formerly much frequented for gathering\nsea-birds\u2019 eggs, and its \u201cHorse,\u201d a steep black rock rising high out of\nthe water.\n\nIf time permits, it will be worth our while to cycle to Sandside, and\nthence walk along the cliffs to the Moul Head. The scenery here is fine,\nand we shall find the Broch, with its ancient ruined chapel, specially\ninteresting. A church existed here before the Norse period, and was\ndoubtless the cause of the name _Deir-ness_, or the ness of the Culdee\npriests, being given to the district. Not far distant we see another\nobject which recalls priestly memories\u2014a gray stone pillar erected to\ncommemorate the shipwreck by which two hundred Covenanters lost their\nlives when on their way to be sold as slaves in the American Colonies or\n\u201cPlantations.\u201d\n\nThe story is a dark and tragic one. There is some reason to believe that\nthe shipwreck was not entirely an accident; it is said that the ship was\nnot even provisioned for so long a voyage, and that the fate designed for\nthe unhappy prisoners was not slavery but death by shipwreck whenever\ncircumstances favourable for such an \u201caccident\u201d should arise.\n\nOn returning to the St. Andrews road we may strike off towards the south\nand make our way homewards through the parish of Holm. The most fertile\npart of this parish lies in a broad valley sloping towards the south,\nwhere the crops ripen early. As we descend into this valley, the mellow\nlight of an autumn afternoon reveals to us a view of rare sweetness and\ncharm.\n\nAmid the river-like tidal stream of Holm Sound lie the green islets of\nGlims Holm and Lamb Holm or Laman, with Burray and the darker Hunda, and\nthe imposing stretch of South Ronaldsay beyond. To the westward, Hoy\nrises in deep-blue shadow, reflected in the still surface of Scapa Flow.\nOver the gleam of the Pentland Firth we see the flat shores of Caithness,\nwhile the more distant peaks of the Sutherland mountains rise sharp and\nclear above the horizon.\n\nBut there are a few miles of road yet to cover, so we hold on our way\ntowards the seashore, where the steep-gabled mansion of Graemeshall\nstands beside its pretty reed-fringed loch. A mile beyond lies the\nvillage of St. Mary\u2019s, with its pier and its line of cottages stretching\nalong the beach; and after taking a passing glance at this well-known\nfishing-station, we turn our faces northwards. We have a long hilly ride\nin front of us here, and by the time we reach the end of it our interest\nin the charming views is not so keen as it was. Then comes the welcome\nchange of gradient; we spin down the \u201cDistillery Brae,\u201d and soon our\ncircuit of the East Mainland is completed.\n\n\nSecond Day.\n\nOur second day\u2019s circuit will take us round the central part of the\nMainland, which is divided from the East Mainland by the isthmus of\nScapa, and from the larger mass of the West Mainland by the lochs of\nStenness and Harray and the wide isthmus between the latter and the Bay\nof Firth.\n\nWe leave Kirkwall by the \u201cHead of the Town\u201d and keep to the old Scapa\nroad for about a mile, when we turn sharp to the right and soon begin the\nlong ascent of nearly three hundred feet to Greenigo. This is followed by\na corresponding dip down to the valley of Kirbuster, whose loch lies on\nour right; but as fishing is not our programme at present we keep to the\nroad as it ascends once more, and soon find ourselves entering upon the\nbroad fertile slope which forms the most thickly inhabited part of the\nparish of Orphir.\n\nWestward we see the road stretching across this well-cultivated district,\ndotted with houses large and small, which gather here and there in groups\nand clusters almost ranking as villages. Time does not press, and we are\nout for the purpose of seeing all we can, so we decide to leave the main\nroad here and take a by-road to the right which skirts the east side of\nthe Ward Hill. It is fairly steep, and the riding cannot be called good,\nbut it has the advantage of bringing us within a mile of the Ward Hill\nitself, the top of which we shall find a pleasant halting-place.\n\n[Illustration: _Orphir._]\n\nLeaving our bicycles by the roadside, we face a pretty stiff climb\nthrough luxuriant heather and bracken, and soon find ourselves on the\nhighest of a group of hilltops, 880 feet above the sea. If we are\nfavoured with a clear atmosphere, the scene before us will amply repay\nthe labour of our ascent.\n\nThe view from the Ward Hill is supplementary to that from Wideford Hill.\nParts of the landscape to the east and north are shut out by Wideford\nHill itself, by the long Keelylang ridge, and by the broad-backed mass\nbetween Harray and Evie. To the south the scene is somewhat similar to\nthat seen from Wideford Hill; to the westward, however, the panorama now\nbefore us is unique.\n\nIreland, or _Ayre-land_, as it once was, sloping gently downwards to\nits bay, lies at our feet, a patchwork of farms and fields in varying\ntints of green and yellow and brown. Beyond it, the picturesque \u201cwestern\ncapital,\u201d Stromness, fringes its landlocked harbour, secure in the\nshelter of the protecting hills behind. To the left lies Graemsay with\nits lighthouses, an \u201cemerald set in a sapphire sea,\u201d and beyond it the\nfrowning cliffs and the purple ridge of Hoy dominate the scene.\n\nAway towards the west the horizon line, more than thirty miles distant as\nwe now see it, cuts sharp and straight against the soft blue sky. If we\nhave a good glass, we may make out on this line, just above the town of\nStromness, the Stack of Suleskerry.\n\n[Illustration: _Stromness from the east._]\n\nBut our day\u2019s ride is yet mostly before us, so we descend from the Ward\nor \u201cwatch-tower,\u201d mount our bicycles, regain the main road, and continue\nour way through the smiling landscape which lies in front of us. Orphir\nwas an important district in the old Norse days, and a residence of the\nOrkney Earls stood on the seashore near the parish church; and adjoining\nthat church may still be seen part of a much earlier church, one of the\nfew circular temples in this country which were built in the time of the\nCrusades on the model of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem.\nIn the little cove sheltered by the Head and the Holm of Houton, some of\nKing Hakon\u2019s ships found shelter during the winter after the battle of\nLargs, while the king himself lay dying in the ancient palace at Kirkwall.\n\n[Illustration: _Ruins of circular church, Orphir._]\n\nAfter a particularly stiff ride over Scorriedale, we enter upon a long\nand somewhat uninteresting stretch of road through Clestran and Ireland,\nand at last reach the main road from Kirkwall to Stromness, close to the\nBridge of Waith, which crosses the narrow strait between the Loch of\nStenness and the sea. We can see just above this bridge the traces of\na still older one, and the name Waith probably indicates that this was\noriginally a \u201cwading-place\u201d or ford at low tide.\n\nBut we are not to cross the bridge to-day; we turn back towards Kirkwall\nto complete our tour of the Central Mainland. The road runs along the\nside of the loch, through the pretty district of Clouston, and past the\ncomfortable hotel which has been erected there for the convenience of\nsuch summer visitors as are attracted by the trout-fishing of the loch.\nThe largest trout ever seen was caught in the Loch of Stenness, and if\nthe proverb is true that \u201cthere are as good fish in the sea as ever came\nout of it,\u201d the same may yet be proved true of this loch.\n\nWe halt only long enough to obtain a welcome cup of tea, and then\ncontinue our ride. Less than a mile brings us to the road which leads\nover the Bridge of Brogar to the Standing Stones, and we decide on making\na brief pilgrimage to this the most ancient shrine in the islands\u2014if,\nindeed, it was a shrine. But as the afternoon is wearing towards evening,\nand we have been here several times before, we merely sit down on the\nshort heather beside the circle long enough to let the mystery and\n\u201ceeriness\u201d of the scene sink into our minds and set us wondering silently\nwhat it all meant in the far-off days when it was new.\n\nWe need not wait here in the hope of finding out, so we ride back past\nthe tall \u201csentinel\u201d stone and the smaller circle of Stenness to the main\nroad. Another mile brings us abreast of Maeshowe, and with the spirit\nof the past upon us we stop once more. We obtain the key of this famous\nchambered mound from the farmhouse opposite, in order that we may spend a\nfew minutes more in \u201cwondering.\u201d\n\nThere is nothing about Maeshowe, or even about the Standing Stones, to\nattract the superficial mind, but to those who \u201cwonder,\u201d and who can\nsee things which vanished from outward view many centuries ago, those\nplaces are almost holy ground. They embody and embalm some of the deepest\nthoughts of a long-vanished people; and though we can hardly guess what\nthese thoughts were, the monuments are sacred relics to us. They are\nmilestones, we may say, marking early stages in the long advance of our\nrace.\n\n[Illustration: _The Sentinel Stone, Stenness._]\n\nAfter leaving Maeshowe we face an incline just heavy enough to recall our\nthoughts to the present, and soon we are passing through the pretty glen\nwhich opens on the Bay of Firth. The patches of shrubbery and trees round\nBinscarth on our left give a pleasing variety to the scenery, and show us\nonce more the possibilities and the limitations of our islands as regards\nthe cultivation of woods.\n\nThe village of Finstown, the half-way house between Kirkwall and\nStromness, has a beautiful situation, which can be better appreciated\nfrom the hillside above it than from the road, and it is well placed for\nattracting a share of the ordinary business of the districts around. It\nhas a prosperous look, and its name reminds us that it claims to be more\nthan a mere village.\n\n[Illustration: _Maeshowe._]\n\nBefore us on our left lies the wide, shallow Bay of Firth, or \u201cThe\nFirth,\u201d as it might more correctly be called, which gives its name to the\nsurrounding district. To the Norsemen it was the \u201cSea-trout Firth,\u201d and\nmust have been important for its fishing. In more recent times it had\na famous oyster-fishery; but that too has become a thing of the past,\nthough by the exercise of a little foresight and public spirit it could\neasily be restored.\n\nIn the bay lie the Holm of Grimbister and the island of Damsay, or \u201cSt.\nAdamnan\u2019s Isle.\u201d The latter, as its name indicates, was the site of a\nCuldee monastery, and is mentioned in the later Saga story. Damsay has\nalso its share of the legendary tales which are connected with many of\nthe old ecclesiastical centres in the island.\n\nOn our right the old Kirkwall road branches off, passing over the\nsouthern shoulder of Wideford Hill; and beside it, on a rising ground,\nwe see the manse of Firth, the home of the soldier-poet Malcolm, whose\nfather was minister of the parish. Soon our road bears to the left to\navoid the steep, dark mass of Wideford Hill; we cross the broad stretch\nof Quanterness, and a bend to the right brings us once more in view of\nKirkwall, lying beyond the Peerie Sea, whose still waters mirror the dark\nmass of St. Magnus, now gleaming with a dusky red in the glow of sunset.\n\n\nThird Day.\n\nOur third day\u2019s tour is of a different character; we are to make our\nway through Rendall and Evie to Birsay. As we shall spend the night\nthere, our bicycles must be loaded with a few necessary articles; but\nold campaigners always march light, and our baggage is reduced to its\nabsolute minimum.\n\nThe first stage of our journey takes us to Finstown, along the main\nStromness road which we traversed yesterday. Then we turn sharp to\nthe right, and cross the bridge over the mouth of the \u201cOyce,\u201d which\nreminds us of the Peerie Sea and its Ayre. The district in front of us,\nthe \u201cNorth Side\u201d of Firth, consists of a broad slope, almost a plain,\nfringing the bay, and the steep escarpment of a long range of hills on\nour left. Most of this range is 500 feet in height, and parts exceed 700\nfeet.\n\nThere is a certain monotony about the road, due to its straightness; but\nthere is really no reason why it should turn either to the right hand or\nto the left, so we pedal away, mile after mile. When opposite the Bay of\nIsbister we pass a very pleasing valley, that of Settascarth, through\nwhich a road crosses the long ridge into the parish of Harray. Then we\nreach the parish of Rendall, and find a long ascent in front of us,\nas the road runs straight up the \u201cdale\u201d whence the name of the parish\narises. We pass between the high, steep ridge on the left and a group\nof hills on the right which lie between us and the sea, forming a broad\npeninsula between the Bay of Isbister and Woodwick.\n\nWhen we reach the summit of this rise, we are quite ready to halt for a\nwhile and enjoy the new panorama which opens out to the northward. The\ninner group of the North Isles\u2014Rousay, Egilsay, Wyre, and Gairsay\u2014lie at\nour feet, as it seems; and the more distant members of the group can be\neasily made out. Rousay is the dominant feature in the landscape, and its\nsteep brown hills, descending in step-like \u201chammars,\u201d make an impressive\nbackground to the green fringe of farmland and the liquid blue of the sea.\n\nAs we resume our way along an undulating road, we pass through a district\nwhich, despite its northerly exposure, seems able to support a large\npopulation, and numerous tidy cottages cluster here and there along the\nroadside. By-and-by the cultivated strip becomes narrower, the sandy\nbeach of Aikerness gives place to the rocky shores of Burgar, and the\nroad turns inland with a steep incline to dip down on the other side of\nthe ridge towards the Loch of Swannay.\n\nHere we shall find it well worth our while to make a somewhat longer halt\nthan before, and, leaving our bicycles, we turn to climb Costa Hill, and\nto view the wild cliffs at Costa Head. From the hill we look down upon\nthe mysterious green islet of Eynhallow, the \u201cHoly Island,\u201d where the\nruins of an ancient monastery have been traced, and round which more than\nthe usual crop of legends has sprung up. A fair contrast it offers to the\nbold, rocky cliffs of Rousay just beyond.\n\nIf it happens to be the time of spring tides, and the ebb is running\nout, we shall see at this place one of the most impressive sights which\nour coasts present. However calm be the sea, as soon as the tide begins\nto gather strength, the channels on either side of Eynhallow for some\ndistance out to sea become a mass of heaving, foaming billows, reminding\none of the long stretch of boiling rapids below the Falls of Niagara.\n\nAnd that is just what this \u201croost\u201d is\u2014rapids on the course of the tidal\nriver which is now sweeping westward through Eynhallow Sound. When we\nlook at our pocket map, we see that on each side of the islet the depth\nof water is only about five fathoms. In about a quarter of a mile it\nbecomes ten fathoms, and within a mile of the west end of the island\ntwenty fathoms. Thus the tidal river first passes over a ridge on each\nside of Eynhallow, where it is less than thirty feet deep, and then\nplunges down a slope which dips nearly one hundred feet in a mile.\n\nIf there is a long swell rolling in from the Atlantic, as there often is\non our western shores, the turmoil is increased, and the boiling fury of\nBurgar Roost, as it is called, is a sight which it is worth going far to\nsee. The roost which is formed in Hoy Sound with a strong ebb-tide is due\nto similar causes but there the dip in the sea-bottom is not so steep.\nWhen the tide turns, the change seems almost magical, and in a short time\nthere may be not a ripple on the water to mark the scene of this mad\ndance of the billows.\n\n[Illustration: _Birsay, the Barony._]\n\nThe cliffs at Costa Head are the highest on the Mainland, but we can only\nsee them from above, and thus we lose much of their wild grandeur. We\nenjoy, however, an impressive view of the cave-pierced shores of Rousay,\nand of the stern ramparts of Noup Head, in Westray, with its sentinel\nlighthouse.\n\nSooner or later we must return to our bicycles, and now we coast rapidly\ndown to the Loch of Swannay, sweep round its northern shore, and,\ncrossing the burn, climb the opposite slope towards the part of Birsay\nquaintly named, \u201cAbune the Hill,\u201d or \u201cAbove the Hill,\u201d as the map-makers\nhave it. Instead of following the road which strikes southward through\nthe centre of the parish, we turn towards the west, and by means of an\nolder road make our way to the Barony of Birsay, where we shall find\naccommodation for the night.\n\nBut we have still a long evening before us, and after due rest and\nrefreshment we shall find time to explore our surroundings. The place is\nfull of historical interest. The old name of _Birgisharad_, in which we\nmay trace the names of Birsay and Harray, indicates that here was the\nchief hunting-ground of the Norse Jarls. The mixture of hill and loch\nand stream, the valleys being then perhaps furnished with coverts of\nbrushwood where now there is only pasture or crops, made this northern\npart of the Mainland the best hunting-ground in the county.\n\nBirsay may be said to have been the capital of the Earldom at one\ntime. It was the favourite residence of the Earls, and it was also the\necclesiastical centre, and the residence of the first bishop of the\nislands. When the sainted Earl Magnus was slain, it was in Christ\u2019s Kirk\nin Birsay that his body first found burial. On the Brough we may still\nsee the ruins of a very ancient chapel dedicated to St. Peter.\n\nThe Stewart Earls, of dishonoured memory, found Birsay an attractive\nlocality. They raised on the site of its old Norse castle a palace built\nafter the plan of Holyrood in Edinburgh, the ruins of which still form\none of the chief features in the landscape. The whole district, in short,\nis full of those remains which we have called milestones of the past,\nmarking stages in the history of our race.\n\nThe shore near the Barony is interesting. We may walk to the Brough at\nlow water, but we must take care not to be caught and imprisoned by the\nreturning tide. The cliffs rise to the southward, and in Marwick Head\nreach a height of nearly three hundred feet.\n\n[Illustration: _The Brough of Birsay._]\n\nThe chief attraction for tourists is the Loch of Boardhouse and its trout\nfishing. This loch receives the drainage of a wide stretch of country,\nits chief feeder being the Hillside Burn, which rises in the hills\nbetween Rendall and Harray, flows north-west for some five miles to the\nLoch of Hundland, and under the name of the Burn of Kirbuster reaches\nthe larger loch in about another mile. This drainage basin is next in\nimportance and area to that of the \u201cGreat Lakes\u201d of Orkney, the Lochs of\nStenness and Harray.\n\nIf we have time and energy left to climb Ravie Hill, on the south side of\nthe loch, we shall get an excellent idea of the \u201clay of the land,\u201d and\nthe relation of these two loch basins. We may notice in particular that\nthe Harray basin extends northward almost to the hill on which we stand,\nand includes a number of small lochs near it which look as if they ought\nto belong to the Boardhouse or Birsay system.\n\nIf scenery rather than geography is our study, we shall be equally well\nrepaid for this walk. From its isolated position, Ravie Hill commands\na very extensive view, despite its moderate elevation. The panorama of\nhill and valley and plain, of land and lake and sea, which is spread\nout around us, is really one of the finest in Orkney, and we can quite\nunderstand how the picturesque Barony came to occupy so important a place\nin the past. Even at the present day its rich soil and pleasant situation\ngive it some right to be called the \u201cGarden of Orkney.\u201d But meantime we\nmust make our way back to our inn, for the sun is dipping in the western\nsea, and to-morrow will bring us fresh tasks to perform.\n\n\nFourth Day.\n\nOur fourth and last day\u2019s exploration will be confined to the western\nshore of the Mainland, between Birsay and Stromness. As we leave the\nBarony and ride along the south side of the loch we are tempted to stop\nand view once more the landscape from Ravie Hill, before we finally turn\nour back upon this romantic corner of the Mainland. While we watch the\npeople at work in the fields, and listen to the restful sounds of country\nlife, it is hard to picture the past whose relics stand yonder, plain in\nour view.\n\nIf Birsay were to display before our eyes this morning a pageant of her\npast history, the procession would be a varied one. The hunting-parties\nof the Norse Earls, the coming of the first bishop to teach the new\nfaith, the building of the first Norse church, the burial of Earl Magnus,\nthe procession of pilgrims seeking miraculous healing at his tomb, the\nremoval of the sacred relics to the church of St. Olaf at Kirkwall to\nawait the building of a more magnificent shrine, the ruinous favour of\nthe Scottish Earls, the raising of a second Holyrood in the old Barony\nwhose stately splendour was the measure of the robbery and extortion\nsuffered by the people, the passing of this incongruous pomp and the\nreturn of welcome obscurity and quiet\u2014truly a long and picturesque\nprocession!\n\nWe resume our journey, however, and soon reach Twatt, where the road\ndivides. The branch to the left leads to the important district of\nDounby, on the borders of the three parishes of Birsay, Harray, and\nSandwick, and then passes through the whole length of Harray to join the\nKirkwall and Stromness road.\n\nHarray is an interesting parish. It is the only parish in Orkney which\ndoes not touch the sea. Its soil is on the whole fertile, the surface\nbeing diversified by moraines brought down by glaciers from the steep\nhills to the east. The farms are generally small, but the farmers are\nmostly in the happy position of being owners as well as occupiers, and\nthe number of \u201clairds\u201d in this parish has long been proverbial in Orkney.\n\nWe decide, however, on taking the road to the right, as we wish to see\nsomething of the famous \u201cwest shore.\u201d Three or four miles brings us\nto the head of the Harray Loch; but instead of descending to the mill\nof Rango we turn to the right at the cross-roads, and shortly reach\nthe hamlet of Aith, beside the Loch of Skaill, our charming \u201cLoch in\nOrcady.\u201d Here we turn once more to the right, following a road which\nskirts the loch and leads us almost to the shores of the Bay of Skaill, a\nfine sweep of sandy beach, but exposed to the full fury of the Atlantic.\n\n[Illustration: _Marwick Head, Birsay._]\n\nAt its southern corner we examine a large \u201cPict\u2019s House,\u201d now opened\nup\u2014the \u201cWeem of Scarabrae.\u201d Then we decide to climb the slope beyond and\nvisit the \u201cHole o\u2019 Roo,\u201d a famous cave piercing a bold headland, which\nfrom the horizontal lie of the rock strata looks as if it had been built\nof gigantic flagstones by a race of Titans.\n\nWe are now entering on the finest stretch of cliff scenery in the\nislands, with the exception of Hoy, and from here to Stromness, a\ndistance of some eight miles, the walk is one to remember and to repeat.\nBut now for the first time we find our bicycles a hindrance instead of\na help, and we are at a loss what to do with them. We may decide to\nturn back to the main road, ride to Stromness, and, leaving them there,\nexplore the coast on foot, which is the most satisfactory plan. If we\ndecide to take them on with us, we shall find that considerable stretches\nof the ground are level enough to permit of a rough ride on the turf, and\nfor the last three miles of the distance there is a fair road.\n\n[Illustration: _The Castle of Yesnaby._]\n\nThe next point of interest after leaving Row Head is the Noust of\nBigging, sheltered by its Brough, an excellent place from which to watch\nthe Atlantic breakers when a heavy sea is running. A little way to the\nsouth is the Castle of Yesnaby, one of those isolated stacks of rock\nwhich have withstood the battering of the ocean while the cliffs around\nhave crumbled and fallen. Its slender base, however, proclaims that its\nfate is only a matter of time.\n\nIn another mile and a half, after passing Lyre Geo and Inganess Geo, two\nimpressive examples of how rocks decay, we reach the Castle of North\nGaulton, a singularly slender and graceful pillar of rock. Then we cross\na stretch of low ground, after which there is a steep climb up to the\nsummit of the Black Craig. The height of the hill is 360 feet, and that\nof the cliff little less, while its sheer plunge down into the waves\nmakes it look higher than it really is.\n\nAs we descend towards the south we pass over a district which is sacred\nin the eyes of geologists, for it was here that Hugh Miller discovered\nthe fossil remains of the _Asterolepis_ or \u201cstar-scale\u201d fish, a monster\nof the ancient days when the rocks of this hill were being laid down\nas mud and sand on the bottom of a primeval lake. The great geologist\ndescribes this district as \u201cthe land of fish,\u201d and the rock strata fairly\nswarm with fossils.\n\nThe shore in front is now low and tame, but the whole district from hill\nto sea is fertile and well peopled. That it was so in the past also we\nsee sufficient proof. For there, on the shore of Breckness, stand the\nruins of a mansion built by Bishop Graeme, who knew well where to build;\nand a mile beyond it, in the lonely churchyard by the lonely sea, rises\na fragment of an ancient church. There stood the church of Stromness in\nformer days, and there also the manse; while the names of Innertown and\nOutertown doubtless refer to their relative nearness to this centre of\nparish life.\n\n[Illustration: _Round about Stromness._\n\n1. Dundas Street. 2. Church Road. 3. Victoria Street. 4. From the South\nEnd. 5. From the Harbour. 6. From the Hill.]\n\nBut times have changed, and it is no longer fertility of soil but\nconvenience for trade which draws men together in close neighbourhood,\nand so the modern Stromness arose on the shore of that romantic little\nbay which spreads out beneath us as we cross the ridge to the left. That\nlandlocked sea, and not the rocky hillside, was the source of its life\nand growth; and as we note the frequent steamships and the clustered\nfishing-fleet we realize that it is still the sea which brings prosperity\nto the little gray town.\n\nHere, then, our circuit of the Mainland fitly ends, for in the opinion of\nmany the town of Stromness, the \u201cness of the tide-stream,\u201d is the fairest\nspot in all the islands. However this may be, it is indeed fair, and the\nStromness boy will wander far and sail over many seas ere he will find a\nfairer scene than his island home;\u2014fair when it lies before him under the\npearl-gray light of its northern sky; fairer still, perchance, when the\ngolden haze of memory gilds the landscape, and the joyous vision of the\noutward eye has given place to the wistful retrospect of the imagination.\n\n[Illustration: _The Black Craig._]\n\n\n\n\nSKETCHES BY HUGH MILLER.\n\n\nThe Dwarfie Stone.\n\nWe landed at Hoy, on a rocky stretch of shore composed of the gray\nflagstones of the district. They spread out here in front of the tall\nhills composed of the overlying sandstone, in a green, undulating\nplatform, resembling a somewhat uneven esplanade spread out in front of a\nsteep rampart. With the upper deposit a new style of scenery commences,\nunique in these islands. The hills, bold and abrupt, rise from fourteen\nto sixteen hundred feet over the sea-level; and the valleys by which they\nare traversed\u2014no mere shallow inflections of the general surface, like\nmost of the other valleys of Orkney\u2014are of profound depth, precipitous,\nimposing, and solitary. The sudden change from the soft, low, and\ncomparatively tame to the bold, stern, and high serves admirably to show\nhow much the character of a landscape may depend upon the formation which\ncomposes it.\n\nA walk of somewhat less than two miles brought me into the depths of a\nbrown, shaggy valley, so profoundly solitary that it does not contain a\nsingle human habitation, nor, with one interesting exception, a single\ntrace of the hand of man. As the traveller approaches by a path somewhat\nelevated, in order to avoid the peaty bogs of the bottom, along the\nslopes of the northern side of the dell, he sees, amid the heath below,\nwhat at first seems to be a rhomboidal piece of pavement of pale Old Red\nSandstone, bearing atop a few stunted tufts of vegetation. There are no\nneighbouring objects of a known character by which to estimate its size.\nThe precipitous hill-front behind is more than a thousand feet in height;\nthe greatly taller Ward Hill of Hoy, which frowns over it on the opposite\nside, is at least five hundred feet higher; and dwarfed by these giants\nit seems a mere pavier\u2019s flag, mayhap some five or six feet square by\nsome eighteen inches to two feet in depth. It is only on approaching it\nwithin a few yards that we find it to be an enormous stone, nearly thirty\nfeet in length by almost fifteen feet in breadth, and in some places,\nthough it thins wedgelike towards one of the edges, more than six feet\nin thickness\u2014forming altogether such a mass as the quarrier would detach\nfrom the solid rock to form the architrave of some vast gateway or the\npediment of some colossal statue. A cave-like excavation, nearly three\nfeet square, and rather more than seven feet in depth, opens on its gray\nand lichened side. The excavation is widened within, along the opposite\nwalls, into two uncomfortably short beds, very much resembling those of\nthe cabin of a small coasting vessel. One of the two beds is furnished\nwith a protecting ledge and a pillow of stone hewn out of the solid\nmass; while the other, which is some five or six inches shorter than its\nneighbour, and presents altogether more the appearance of a place of\npenance than of repose, lacks both cushion and ledge. An aperture, which\nseems to have been originally of a circular form, and about two and a\nhalf feet in diameter, but which some unlucky herd-boy, apparently in the\nwant of some better employment, has considerably mutilated and widened,\nopens at the inner extremity of the excavation to the roof, as the hatch\nof a vessel opens from the hold to the deck; for it is by far too wide in\nproportion to the size of the apartment to be regarded as a chimney. A\ngray, rudely-hewn block of sandstone, which, though greatly too ponderous\nto be moved by any man of ordinary strength, seems to have served the\npurpose of a door, lies prostrate beside the opening in front.\n\n[Illustration: _The Dwarfie Stone._]\n\nAnd such is the famous Dwarfie Stone of Hoy, as firmly fixed in our\nliterature by the genius of Sir Walter Scott as in this wide valley\nby its ponderous weight and breadth of base, and regarding which\u2014for\nit shares in the general obscurity of the other ancient remains\nof Orkney\u2014the antiquary can do little more than repeat somewhat\nincredulously what tradition tells him\u2014namely, that it was the work many\nages ago of an ugly, malignant goblin, half earth, half air, the elfin\nTrolld\u2014a personage, it is said, that even within the last century used\noccasionally to be seen flitting about in its neighbourhood.\n\nI was fortunate in a fine, breezy day, clear and sunshiny, save where the\nshadows of a few dense, piled-up clouds swept dark athwart the landscape.\nIn the secluded recesses of the valley all was hot, heavy, and still;\nthough now and then a fitful snatch of a breeze, the mere fragment of\nsome broken gust that seemed to have lost its way, tossed for a moment\nthe white cannach of the bogs, or raised spirally into the air, for a few\nyards, the light beards of some seeding thistle, and straightway let them\ndown again. Suddenly, however, about noon a shower broke thick and heavy\nagainst the dark sides and gray scalp of the Ward Hill and came sweeping\ndown the valley. I did what Norna of the Fitful Head had, according to\nthe novelist, done before me in similar circumstances\u2014crept for shelter\ninto the larger bed of the cell, which, though rather scant, taken fairly\nlengthwise, for a man of five feet eleven, I found, by stretching myself\ndiagonally from corner to corner, no very uncomfortable lounging-place in\na thunder-shower. Some provident herd-boy had spread it over, apparently\nmonths before, with a littering of heath and fern, which now formed a\ndry, springy couch; and as I lay wrapped up in my plaid, listening to the\nraindrops as they pattered thick and heavy atop or slanted through the\nbroken hatchway to the vacant bed on the opposite side of the excavation,\nI called up the wild narrative of Norna and felt all its poetry.\n\nThe Dwarfie Stone has been a good deal undervalued by some writers, such\nas the historian of Orkney, Mr. Barry; and, considered simply as a work\nof art or labour, it certainly does not stand high. When tracing, as I\nlay abed, the marks of the tool, which in the harder portions of the\nstone are still distinctly visible, I just thought how that, armed with\npick and chisel, and working as I was once accustomed to work, I could\ncomplete such another excavation to order in some three weeks or a month.\nBut then I could not make my excavation a thousand years old, nor envelop\nits origin in the sun-gilt vapours of a poetic obscurity, nor connect it\nwith the supernatural through the influence of wild, ancient traditions,\nnor yet encircle it with a classic halo borrowed from the undying\ninventions of an exquisite literary genius.\n\nThe pillow I found littered over with the names of visitors; but the\nstone\u2014an exceedingly compact red sandstone\u2014had resisted the imperfect\ntools at the command of the traveller, usually a nail or a knife, and\nso there were but two of the names decipherable\u2014that of an \u201cH. Ross,\n1735,\u201d and that of a \u201cP. Folster, 1830.\u201d The rain still pattered heavily\noverhead, and with my geological chisel and hammer I did, to beguile the\ntime, what I very rarely do\u2014added my name to the others, in characters\nwhich, if both they and the Dwarfie Stone get but fair play, will be\ndistinctly legible two centuries hence. In what state will the world\nthen exist, or what sort of ideas will fill the head of the man who, when\nthe rock has well-nigh yielded up its charge, will decipher the name\nfor the last time, and inquire, mayhap, regarding the individual whom\nit now designates, as I did this morning when I asked, \u201cWho was this H.\nRoss, and who this P. Folster?\u201d? I remember when it would have saddened\nme to think that there would in all probability be as little response in\nthe one case as in the other; but as men rise in years they become more\nindifferent than in early youth to \u201cthat life which wits inherit after\ndeath,\u201d and are content to labour on and be obscure.\n\nThe sun broke out in great beauty after the shower, glistening on a\nthousand minute runnels that came streaming down the precipices, and\nrevealing through the thin, vapoury haze the horizontal lines of strata\nthat bar the hillsides, like courses of ashlar in a building. I failed,\nhowever, to detect, amid the general many-pointed glitter by which the\nblue, gauze-like mist was bespangled, the light of the great carbuncle\nfor which the Ward Hill has long been famous\u2014that wondrous gem, according\nto Sir Walter, \u201cthat, though it gleams ruddy as a furnace to them that\nview it from beneath, ever becomes invisible to him whose daring foot\nscales the precipices whence it darts its splendour.\u201d\n\n\nThe Standing Stones.\n\n[Illustration: _The Standing Stones\u2014The Ring of Brogar._]\n\nThe Standing Stones\u2014second in Britain, of their kind, only to those of\nStonehenge\u2014occur in two groups; the smaller group (composed, however,\nof the taller stones) on the southern promontory, the larger on the\nnorthern one. Rude and shapeless, and bearing no other impress of the\ndesigning faculty than that they are stuck endwise in the earth, and\nform, as a whole, regular figures on the sward, there is yet a sublime\nsolemnity about them, unsurpassed in effect by any ruin I have yet seen,\nhowever grand in its design or imposing in its proportions. Their very\nrudeness, associated with their ponderous bulk and weight, adds to their\nimpressiveness. When there is art and taste enough in a country to hew an\nornate column, no one marvels that there should be also mechanical skill\nenough in it to set it up on end; but the men who tore from the quarry\nthese vast slabs, some of them eighteen feet in height over the soil,\nand raised them where they now stand, must have been ignorant savages\nunacquainted with machinery, and unfurnished, apparently, with a single\ntool.\n\nThe consideration, too, that these remains\u2014eldest of the works of man\nin this country\u2014should have so long survived all definite tradition of\nthe purposes which they were raised to serve, so that we now merely know\nregarding them that they were religious in their uses\u2014products of that\nineradicable instinct of man\u2019s nature which leads him in so many various\nways to attempt conciliating the Powers of another world\u2014serves greatly\nto heighten their effect.\n\nThe appearance of the obelisks, too, harmonizes well with their great\nantiquity and the obscurity of their origin. For about a man\u2019s height\nfrom the ground they are covered thick by the shorter lichens\u2014chiefly\nthe gray-stone _parmelia_\u2014here and there embroidered by the golden-hued\npatches of the yellow _parmelia_ of the wall; but their heads and\nshoulders, raised beyond the reach alike of the herd-boy and of his\nherd, are covered by an extraordinary profusion of a flowing beard-like\nlichen of unusual length\u2014the lichen _calicarus_ (or, according to modern\nbotanists, _Ramalina scopulorum_), in which they look like an assemblage\nof ancient Druids, mysteriously stern and invincibly silent and shaggy as\nthe Bard of Gray, when\n\n \u201cLoose his beard and hoary hair\n Streamed like a meteor on the troubled air.\u201d\n\nThe day was perhaps too sunny and clear for seeing the Standing Stones\nto the best possible advantage. They could not be better placed than on\ntheir flat promontories, surrounded by the broad plain of an extensive\nlake, in a waste, lonely, treeless country, that presents no bold\ncompeting features to divert attention from them as the great central\nobjects of the landscape; but the gray of the morning or an atmosphere of\nfog and vapour would have associated better with the misty obscurity of\ntheir history, their shaggy forms, and their livid tints than the glare\nof a cloudless sun, that brought out in hard, clear relief their rude\noutlines, and gave to each its sharp, dark patch of shadow. Gray-coloured\nobjects, when tall and imposing, but of irregular form, are seen always\nto most advantage in an uncertain light\u2014in fog or frost-rime, or under a\nscowling sky, or, as Parnell well expresses it, \u201camid the livid gleams\nof night.\u201d They appeal, if I may so express myself, to the sentiment of\nthe ghostly and the spectral, and demand at least a partial envelopment\nof the obscure. Burns, with the true tact of the genuine poet, develops\nthe sentiment almost instinctively in an exquisite stanza in one of his\nless-known songs. \u201cThe Posie,\u201d\u2014\n\n \u201cThe hawthorn I will pu\u2019, wi\u2019 its locks o\u2019 siller gray,\n Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o\u2019 day.\u201d\n\nScott, too, in describing these very stones, chooses the early morning as\nthe time in which to exhibit them, when they \u201cstood in the gray light of\nthe dawning, like the phantom forms of antediluvian giants, who, shrouded\nin the habiliments of the dead, come to revisit, by the pale light, the\nearth which they had plagued with their oppression, and polluted by their\nsins, till they brought down upon it the vengeance of the long-suffering\nheaven.\u201d On another occasion he introduces them as \u201cglimmering, a grayish\nwhite, in the rising sun, and projecting far to the westward their long,\ngigantic shadows.\u201d And Malcolm, in the exercise of a similar faculty with\nthat of Burns and of Scott, surrounds them, in his description, with a\nsomewhat similar atmosphere of partial dimness and obscurity:\u2014\n\n \u201cThe hoary rocks, of giant size,\n That o\u2019er the land in circles rise,\n Of which tradition may not tell.\n Fit circles for the wizard\u2019s spell,\n Seen far amidst the scowling storm,\n Seem each a tall and phantom form,\n As hurrying vapours o\u2019er them flee,\n Frowning in grim obscurity,\n While, like a dread voice from the past,\n Around them moans the autumnal blast.\u201d\n\nThere exist curious analogies between the earlier stages of society and\nthe more immature periods of life\u2014between the savage and the child;\nand the huge circle of Stennis seems suggestive of one of these. It is\nconsiderably more than four hundred feet in diameter; and the stones\nwhich compose it, varying from three to fourteen feet in height, must\nhave been originally from thirty-five to forty in number, though only\nsixteen now remain erect. A mound and fosse, still distinctly traceable,\nrun round the whole; and there are several mysterious-looking tumuli\noutside, bulky enough to remind one of the lesser moraines of the\ngeologist. But the circle, notwithstanding its imposing magnitude, is\nbut a huge child\u2019s house after all\u2014one of those circles of stones which\nchildren lay down on their village green, and then, in the exercise of\nthat imaginative faculty which distinguishes between the young of the\nhuman animal and those of every other creature, convert, by a sort of\nconventionalism, into a church or dwelling-house, within which they\nseat themselves and enact their imitations of the employments of their\nseniors, whether domestic or ecclesiastical. The circle of Stennis was a\ncircle, say the antiquaries, dedicated to the sun. The group of stones on\nthe southern promontory of the lake formed but a half-circle, and it was\na half-circle dedicated to the moon. To the circular sun the great rude\nchildren of an immature age of the world had laid down a circle of stones\non the one promontory; to the moon, in her half-orbed state, they had\nlaid down a half-circle on the other; and in propitiating these material\ndeities they employed in their respective enclosures, in the exercise of\na wild, unregulated fancy, uncouth, irrational rites.\n\n HUGH MILLER (_\u201cRambles of a Geologist.\u201d_)\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHEDRAL OF ST. MAGNUS.\n\n\nYou would hardly expect to find an ancient cathedral up in those Orkney\nIslands that one usually sees huddled away in a spare corner of the map,\nand made to look even smaller than they are by the exigencies of space.\nIt is curious to think of: once, long ago, strange ships with monstrous\nfigure-heads and painted sides, full of the northern actors of history,\ncrawled with their lines of oars into the sounds and bays of these\nislands, till for centuries they became the stage for dramatic events\nand stirring personages. Some of the players bore names that any history\nbook tells of. Harald Hardrada, old King Haco, Bothwell, and Montrose\nhave all played their parts. And there are others, earls and prelates,\nand northern kings, and old sea-rovers, who were really far better worth\nknowing than half the puppets with more familiar labels. Then, gradually\nthe lights went out and the audience turned away to look at other things,\nand the Orkneymen were left to observe the Sabbath and elect a County\nCouncil. One by one the old buildings toppled down, and the old names\nchanged, and the old customs faded, till the place of the islands in\nhistory became their place upon the map; but time and men have spared one\nthing\u2014this old cathedral church of St. Magnus in Kirkwall.\n\n[Illustration: _In Kirkwall._\n\n1. Earl\u2019s Palace. 2. Bridge Street. 3. Albert Street. 4. Bishop\u2019s Palace.]\n\nOn the ancient houses of the little borough and the winding slit of a\nstreet, the old red church still looks down benignly, and sometimes (of\na Sunday, I think, especially) a little humorously. Over the gray roofs\nand the tree-tops in sheltered gardens, and the black mites of people\npassing on their business, its lustreless Gothic eyes see a wide expanse\nof land and a wider and brighter sweep of sea. The winding sounds and\nbroadening bays join and divide and join again, through and through\nits island dominions. Backwards and forwards, twice a day, the flood\ntide pours from the open Atlantic, and each channel becomes an eastward\nflowing river; and then from the North Sea the ebb sets the races running\nto the west. Everywhere is the sight or the sound of the sea\u2014rollers on\nthe western cliffs, salt currents among the islands, quiet bays lapping\nthe feet of heathery hills. Out of the two great oceans the wind blows\nlike the blasts of an enormous bellows, and on the horizon the clouds are\neternally gathering.\n\nIt is over this land of moor and water and vapour that the cathedral\nwatches the people; and though from the difficulty of passing through\nso narrow a street it has never moved from the spot where it first\narose, and has never seen, one would suppose, the greater part of its\nterritories, yet it knows\u2014none better\u2014the stories and the spirit of all\nthe islands. Crows and gulls cruise round the tower familiarly, and\nperhaps bring gossip; but eyes so long and narrow, and of so inhuman an\nanatomy, may very likely see through a hill or a heart for themselves.\n\nThe country is like a fleet at sea, and the old spirit of the people came\nfrom the deep. At first that spirit was only restless and fierce and\nfree; in time it began to think, and at odd moments to be troubled, and\nthey called it pious. Then it looked for a fitting house where it might\nlive when it could no longer find a home in the people. So it built the\nred cathedral, and there it silently dwells to-day.\n\nThere is something in their church that none of the respectable townsfolk\nhave the slightest suspicion of\u2014something alive that vibrates to the cry\nof the wind and the breaking of the sea, and the little human events that\nhappen in the crow-stepped houses.\n\nOn the wild autumn afternoons when the hard north-east wind is driving\nrain and sleet through the town, the old church begins to remember. The\nwind and the sleet coming over the sea stir the quick spirit so sharply\nthat every angle is full of sighing noises. As the shortened day draws\nto an end, and lights begin to twinkle in the town, and the showers\nbecome less frequent, and the clouds are rolled up and gathered off the\nsky, then the people come out into the streets and see the early stars\nabove the gable-ends and high cathedral tower. They think it cold, and\nwalk quickly, but a personage of sandstone takes little note of the\ntemperature. The cathedral merely feels refreshed.\n\nWhen the clear, windy night draws in, the people go to rest, and one by\none the lights are put out till only the stars and the lighthouses are\nleft. Looking over a darkened town and an empty night, with the air\nmoving fresh from Norway, the memories come thick upon the old church\nwhich shelters so many bones. It is like digging up the soil of those\nlands from which the sea has for centuries receded, and where the ribs of\nships and the skeletons of sailors lie deep beneath the furrows of the\nplough.\n\nKirkwall must have been a strange little town before the cathedral\u2019s\nmemory begins, when there was no red tower above the narrow street and\nthe little houses, in the days when Rognvald, the son of Kol, had vowed\nto dedicate a splendid minster to his uncle, St. Magnus, should he come\nby his own and call himself Earl of Orkney; and when the islanders waited\nto see what aid the blessed saint would furnish to this enterprise.\n\nIt is one of the island tragedies\u2014the saga of how the evil Earl Hakon\nslew his cousin, Earl Magnus, outside the old church of Egilsay with that\nhigh round tower that you can see over Kirkwall Bay from the cathedral\nparapet, and how the grass grew greener where he fell, and miracles\nmultiplied, and they made him a saint in time.\n\nThough all these events happened before a stone of the cathedral was\nlaid, they may help to give the meaning of its story, and on that account\nthey are worth, perhaps, a rough telling here. Earl Hakon had died, and\nhis son Paul ruled in his stead. He was a silent, brave, unlucky man,\nupright and honourable in his dealings, but the shadow of his father\u2019s\ncrime lay over the land. It brought old age and prosperity and repentance\nto the doer of the deed; and on his son the punishment fell.\n\n[Illustration: _St. Magnus Cathedral, interior._\n\n1. South aisle. 2. North aisle. 3. Nave.]\n\nRognvald claimed the half of the earldom. Paul answered that there was no\nneed for long words, \u201cFor I will guard the Orkneys while God grants me\nlife so to do.\u201d And then the contest began. Rognvald attacked from north\nand south. Paul vanquished the southern fleet, and hurrying north drove\nhis rival back to Norway; and so the winter came on, and the peace that\nin those days men kept in winter.\n\nAll had gone well with Paul, but his luck was to change with a little\nthing. He was keeping Yule with his friends and kinsmen, when upon a\nwinter\u2019s evening, a man, wet with the spray of the Pentland Firth, came\nout of the dusk and knocked upon the door. He was hardly the instrument,\none would think, a departed saint would choose to build a cathedral\nwith\u2014a Viking with his sword ever loose in its sheath, and his lucky\nstar obscured, coming here for refuge, from the ashes of his father and\nhis home. He was known as Sweyn Asleifson (a name to be famous in the\nislands), and was welcomed for his family\u2019s sake; they brought him in\nto the feast, and the drinking went on. In a little while there arose\na quarrel over the cups; Sweyn killed his man, and fled into the night\nagain. He was a landless outlaw this time, for the dead man had been\nhigh in favour, and the earl was stern. Meanwhile men went on drinking\nover the hall fires; but Paul\u2019s luck had departed, and St. Magnus had a\nweapon in his hand. In the spring the war began again, and suddenly in\nthe midst of it Earl Paul disappeared\u2014his bodyguard cut down upon the\nbeach, himself spirited clean away. Sweyn Asleifson had come for him, and\ncarried him to a fate that was never more than rumoured. So Rognvald won\nthe earldom, and the first stones of his church were laid. The saint had\ncertainly struck for him.\n\nThat is the true story of the vow and the building of the cathedral, a\ntale too old for even the venerable church to remember. But all the long\nhistory of the seven centuries since it knows; and indeed it has played\nsuch a part in scene after scene and act after act, that a memory would\nhave to be of some poorer stuff than hewed sandstone to forget a past so\nstirring. And who can be so far behind every scene as the house which\nduring men\u2019s lives listens to their prayers, and at last upon a day takes\nthem in for ever?\n\nWhen it first began to look down from its windows upon those men going\nabout their business in the sunshine or the rain, it saw among the\nlittle creatures some that were well worth remembering, though there be\nfew but the cathedral to remember them now. There was Rognvald himself,\nthat cheerful, gallant earl who made poetry and war, and sailed to\nJerusalem with all his chiefs and friends, fighting and rhyming all the\nway, and riding home across the length of Europe, and who, when he fell\nby an assassin\u2019s hand, was laid at last beneath the pavement of this\ncathedral he had founded. And then, most memorable of all the great\nodallers who followed him in war and sat at his Yule feasts, there was\nthe Viking, Sweyn Asleifson, he who kidnapped Paul, and afterwards became\nthe lifelong and, on the whole, faithful friend of Rognvald, and the\nfaithless enemy of almost every one else; the most daring, unscrupulous,\nfamous, and\u2014judging by the way he always obtained forgiveness when he\nneeded it\u2014the most fascinating man in all the northern countries. He was\nthe luckiest, too, till the day he fell in an ambush in the streets of\nDublin, exclaiming with his last breath, in most remarkable contrast to\nthe tenor of his life: \u201cKnow this, all men, that I am one of the Saint\nEarl Rognvald\u2019s bodyguard, and I now mean to put my trust in being where\nhe is, with God.\u201d May he rest in peace wherever his bones lie, even\nthough his reformation came something late, the turbulent, terrible old\nViking, whom the Saga writers called the last of that profession.\n\nThe generation who built it had passed away, when on a summer\u2019s day,\nafter it had weathered nearly a century of storm and shine, the cathedral\nsaw the greatest sight it had yet beheld. Haco of Norway had come with\nhis fleet to conquer the Western Isles of Scotland, the Norse kings\u2019 old\ninheritance. The pointed windows watched ship after ship sail by with\ncoloured sails and shining shields, bearing the Norsemen to their last\nbattle in southern lands; and then the islands waited for the news that\nin those days was brought by the men who had made the story.\n\nMonth upon month went by; men wondered and rumours flew; the days grew\nshorter, and the gales came out upon all the seas. At last, when winter\nwas well upon the islands, what were left of the battered ships began to\nstruggle home. They brought back stories that the cathedral remembers,\nthough six centuries have rolled them out of the memories of the\npeople\u2014tales of lee-shores and westerly gales, of anchors dragging under\nthe Cumbraes, and Scottish knights charging down upon the beach where the\nNorwegian spears were ranked on the edge of the tide; then of more gales\nand whirlpools in the Pentland, until at length they carried their old\nsick king ashore, to die in the bishop\u2019s palace at Kirkwall.\n\n[Illustration: _St. Magnus Cathedral, exterior._\n\n1. West doorway, nave. 2. East window. 3. Doorway, south transept. 4.\nDoorway, north aisle. 5. Doorway, south aisle.]\n\nHe lay for two months in that ancient building\u2014now a roofless shell,\nstanding just beyond the churchyard wall\u2014his most faithful friends beside\nhim, the restless Orkney wind without, and the voice of the Saga reader\nby the bed. First they read to him in Latin, till he grew too sick to\nfollow the foreign words; and then in Norse, through the Sagas of the\nsaints, and after of the kings. They had come down to his own father,\nSverrir, and then, in the words of the old historian, \u201cNear midnight\nSverrir\u2019s Saga was read through, and just as midnight was past Almighty\nGod called King Hakon from this world\u2019s life.\u201d They buried him in the\ngreat red church that had stood sentinel over the sick-chamber; and as\nthe race of Vikings died with Sweyn, so the roving, conquering kings of\nNorway passed away with Haco, and never again came south to trouble the\nseaboards.\n\nThe Orkneys, however, were not yet out of the current of affairs. They\ncut, indeed, but a small figure compared with the Orkney of the great\nEarl Thorfinn in the century before Rognvald founded his cathedral\u2014he\nwho owned nine earldoms in Scotland and all the Southern Isles, besides\na great realm in Ireland. But there was still a bishop in the palace\nand an earl with powers of life and death in his dominion, and an armed\nfollowing that counted for something in war; and the cathedral was still\nthe church of a small country rather than of a little county. The sun\ncast the shadows of dignitaries in the winding street, and the bones\nthey were framed of were laid in time beneath the flags of St. Magnus\u2019s\nchurch. When one comes to think of it, the old cathedral must hold a\nvaried collection of these, for here lie the high and the low of two\nraces, and no man knows how many chance sojourners and travellers.\n\nAt last, upon a dark day for the islands, their era of semi-independence\nand Vikingism and Norse romance came to a most undignified end. A needy\nking of the north pledged them to Scotland for his daughter\u2019s dowry,\nas a common man might pledge his watch. East to Norway was no longer\nthe way to the motherland, and the open horizon meeting the clouds, the\nold highroad, led now to a foreign shore. Henceforth they belonged to\nthe long coast with its pale mountain peaks far away over the cliffs,\nwhich had once, so far as the eye could see, belonged to them. It was a\ntransaction intended for a season, but the season has never ran to its\nlimit yet. Now, it is to be hoped, it never will; but for centuries it\nwould have been better for the Orkneys if they had gone the way of some\nvolcanic islet and sunk quietly below the gray North Sea.\n\nOne might think that, when they had ceased to be a half-way house between\ntheir sovereign and his neighbours of Europe, and were become instead\na geographical term applied to the least accessible portion of their\nnew lord\u2019s dominions, their history and their troubles would soon have\nceased, and the islanders been left to fish and reap late crops and try\nto keep out the winter weather. But there was no such good luck for many\na day to come. Alas for themselves, they were too valuable an asset in\nthe Scotch king\u2019s treasury. Orkney too valuable! That collection of\nwindy, treeless islands, where great ponds of rain-water stand through\nthe fields for months together, and a strawberry that ripens is shown\nto one\u2019s friends! The plain truth is that, measured by a Scotch standard\nof value in those days, it would have been hard to find a pocket not\nworth the picking. The rental of Orkney was more than twice that of the\nkingdom of Fife, and Fife, I suppose, was an El Dorado compared with most\nprovinces of its impecunious country. So north they came, Scotch earls\nand bishops and younger sons, to make what they could before the pledge\nwas redeemed. And to the old cathedral was flung the shame of standing as\nthe symbol of oppression. It was not its fault, and every stone must have\nsilently cried to Heaven for forgiveness. But a cathedral meant a bishop,\nand an Orkney bishop meant the refinement of roguery and exaction. When\nthese prelates in their turns came to inhabit permanently their minster,\nand they could at last hear the voice of its spirit that loves the\nland it watches, demanding an account of their stewardship, what could\nthey say? The old excuse\u2014\u201cWe must live\u201d? I can hardly think the church\nperceived the necessity.\n\nThat monument which the old sailors and fighters of the north had built,\nthat they might link a better world with the rough and warring earth,\nhad to stand immovable for century upon century, watching the trouble\nof their sons. It saw them make their stand at Summerdale in the old\nfashion, with sword and halbert and a battle-cry on their lips, and\nmarch back again to the town in a glimpse of triumph. But that quickly\nfaded, and the weight of new laws and evil rulers gradually broke the\nhigh spirit entirely. It saw the proud odallers reduced to long-suffering\n\u201cpeerie lairds,\u201d and all their power and romance and circumstance of\nstate pass over to the foreigner, until after a time it was hard to\nbelieve that, some pages further back, there was a closed chapter of\nhistory which read quite differently from this.\n\nDown below the parapet of the tower the narrow streets were full of the\nmost splendid-looking people, all in steel and the Stewart arms. Earls\nRobert and Patrick of that royal name, each, through his scandalous life,\nmade the island the home of a prince\u2019s court; and out among the moors and\nthe islands the old race wondered whose turn it should be for persecution\nnext, and how long Heaven would let these things be.\n\nThe downfall of the Stewarts\u2019 rule came at last, violently as was fit,\nbut to the end they used the old church on behalf of the wrong. The tower\nwas wrapped in the smoke of the rebels\u2019 musketry when old Earl Patrick\nlay by the heels in Edinburgh awaiting his doom as a traitor, and his son\nheld Kirkwall against what might, by comparison, be termed the law, and\nit was only at the point of the pike that they turned the last Stewart\nout of the sepulchre of St. Magnus.\n\nThen the long windows watched the shadows of all manner of persons, who\nare well forgotten now, darken the prospect for a while, and pass away to\nlet other clouds gather; and in all that time there cannot have been many\nwhom a critical edifice can recall with pride.\n\nThe bishops were sent about their business, and the Solemn League and\nCovenant was solemnly sworn. The troopers of Cromwell stalked through\nthe old pillars with their wide hats the firmer set on. The Covenant\nwas unsworn, and the bishops came back and acquired emoluments for a\nlittle while longer, till at last they went altogether, and in good,\nsober Presbyterian fashion the awakened people set about purifying their\ntemple. Poor old church! they did it thoroughly. Away went carving and\nstained glass, and ancient tombs and bones, and everything that the\naustere taste of Heaven is supposed by man to dislike. They made it clean\nwith a kind of yellowish whitewash, and divided it by a sanitary deal\nscreen impervious to draught. In this shameful guise the cathedral has\nwatched the advent of quiet days and the slow healing of time. To-day the\ngreatest clamour it hears is made by the rooks. No earl\u2019s men or bishop\u2019s\nmen quarrel in the streets; no one either fears or harries the islanders;\nthe history of Orkney is written and closed and laid upon the shelf.\nThe hands of the clock move evenly round, and the seasons change by the\nalmanac.\n\nBut there stands the old red church, silently remembering and arranging\nin their due perspective all these things remarkable and true. The worst\nof it is that it makes no comment that a mortal can understand, so that\nno one can say what a seasoned, well-mortared observer of seven centuries\nof affairs thinks of changing dynasties and creeds, and whether it is\ndisposed to take them more seriously than so many moultings of feathers,\nand if one can retain any optimism through a course of whitewash and\ndraught-proof screens.\n\nIt is pleasant to think, for the old minster\u2019s sake, that it heeds the\nrubs of fortune very little, and regards material changes just as so\nmany shifts of plumage. Its people are still flesh and blood, and its\nislands rock and turf and heather, and it will take more than pails\nand paint-brushes, and pledges and covenants to make them otherwise.\nThe winter days are as bleak as ever, and the summer evenings as long\nand light, and the sun rises out of the North Sea among the flat green\nislands, and sinks in the Atlantic behind the western heather hills; and\nit is likely enough that from the height of the cathedral tower many\nother most serious events look surprisingly unimportant.\n\n J. STORER CLOUSTON.\n (_\u201cMacmillan\u2019s Magazine.\u201d By permission._)\n\n[Illustration: _Kirkwall in winter._]\n\n\n\n\nA ROAD IN ORCADY.\n\n\nIn southern lands\u2014and most lands are southern to us\u2014the road runs between\nfragrant hedgerows or under shady trees; but in Orcady trees and hedges\nare practically unknown. Yet the road lacks not its charm, for this is\na world of compensations. If we never breathe the fragrance of the may\nor hear the whisper of the wind-stirred branches, we have, on the other\nhand, nothing to shut out from our eyes the wide expanse of land and sea\nor to hide the blue sky over us, no fallen timber after a gale to block\nour way and make of our progress an involuntary obstacle race, and no\nthorns to puncture our cycle tyres. The lover of the highway may miss\nhere much of the bird-life that enlivens the roads of the south; but our\nroad has a life and traffic of its own quite apart from the trickling\nstream of men and horses which flows fitfully along its white channel.\nFlowers and flies, birds and beasts, the road has something for each and\nall of them. Even by day they use it, but from dusk to dawn they claim it\nas their very own.\n\n[Illustration: _By the Roadside\u2014\u201cPeerie Hooses.\u201d_\n\n1. Holm. 2. Harray. 3. Birsay. 4. Tankerness. 5. Orphir.]\n\nI do not remember that Stevenson, who so loved the road, has written\nanywhere of its little life\u2014of the birds and beasts, the shy living\nthings, that haunt it. In the treeless isles of Orcady, at least, the\nfurred and feathered creatures seem to think that man makes the road for\ntheir especial delectation. For all creatures of beach and bog, hill\nand meadow, it has its charms; and hence it is ever beat upon by soft,\nsoundless feet and shadowed by swiftly moving wings, and many a little\ncomedy or tragedy is played out upon its stage. We walk upon it in spring\nand summer through an air fragrant with the perfume of innumerable small,\nsweet flowers, with the music of birds and bees about us, and ever, under\nand behind all song, the voice of the great sea, full of indefinable\nmystery as of a half-remembered dream.\n\nThe engineer who makes the road unwittingly plans it in such fashion as\nto be of service to the folk of moor and marsh, of shore and furrow. In\nOrcady every road, sooner or later, leads to the sea. In former days the\nsea itself was the great highway, and therefore close to its shores are\nfound the old kirks and kirkyards. For by sea men came to worship God,\nand by sea they were carried to their long home. The kirks and kirkyards\nbeing beside the sea, the road comes thither to them. It comes down also\nto the piers, the slips, and jetties, which play so important a part in\nthe lives of the islanders. Thus the road passes within a few yards of\nthe haunts of all the divers, swimmers, and waders that frequent our\nshores.\n\nAlso in making a road the aim of the man who plans it is to avoid, so far\nas possible, all ascents and descents. In carrying out this aim he raises\nthe road on embankments where it passes through low and marshy grounds,\nand makes cuttings through the higher lands. Where it runs through such a\ncutting the roadside ditches catch and keep a little store of water in\na dry season, and thither plover, snipe, redshanks, and dotterel bring\ntheir velvet-clad birdlings to drink. If the season be wet, the road\nraises above the marsh a comparatively dry platform, on which the birds\nmay rest when not feeding, and the roadside dykes offer a shelter from\nwind and sun.\n\nBut our road draws feet and wings to it in many other ways. It passes\nnow through cultivated fields, with dry stone dykes fencing it on either\nside; now it runs unfenced through the open moorland, and again along\nthe very margin of the sea. Here it is bordered by marshes and there by\na long reach of black peat-bog, and everywhere it woos with varied wiles\nthe living things of earth and air. Before the dykes have seen many\nseasons they begin to deck themselves with velvet mosses, and to the\nminiature forests of moss come insects of the lesser sorts, flying and\ncreeping things, red and brown and blue. In pursuit of these small deer\ncome the spiders, which lurk in crevices of the walls and spread their\ncunning snares across the mouths of culverts where farm roads branch off\nfrom the highway. Long-legged water-skaters dart to and fro among the\nfloating weeds on the surface of the stagnant ditches; and over these\nditches the midges weave their fantastic dances on summer evenings. The\nlitter of passing traffic brings hurrying, busy, burnished beetles,\nwhich find harbourage in the loosely piled banks of ditch scrapings that\nform the boundary between highway and moorland. Where the road, with\nits generous grassy margin, runs like a white ribbon with green borders\nthrough the brown moors, wild flowers that are choked or hidden in the\nheather spread themselves to the sunshine\u2014primroses and daisies, clover\nred and white, milkwort and tormentil, hawkweed and violets, thyme and\ncrowfoot: their very names read like a poem. The number of small wild\nflowers that grow in our roadside ditches and within reach of the road\nis amazing when one begins to reckon them. Here the steep grassy bank is\ngorgeous with rose-campion and with the purple and gold of the vetches,\nand all the air is sweet with the perfume of wild mustard, which with\nthe pale yellow of its blossoms almost hides the green in that field of\nspringing barley. This wet meadow, on either hand all aglow with the pink\nblossoms of the ragged robin, a little earlier in the year had its wide\nand shallow ditches glorified by the broad green leaves and exquisite\nfeathery blooms of the bog-bean, while its drier grounds were starred\nwith the pale cups of grass of Parnassus. In spring the vernal squills\nshone on yonder hillocks with a blue glory as of the sea in summer.\n\nOn this long flat stretch of peat-bog these are not untimely snowdrifts\nbut nodding patches of cotton-grass. In autumn, when a strong wind\nblows from that quarter, all the road will be strewn with the silvery,\nsilken down that makes so brave a show among the purple heather of the\nbog. Later still in the year the same bog will glow ruddy as with a\nperpetual sunset, when the long, coarse grass reddens. Passing this way\non some gray afternoon the wayfarer will find it hard to believe that\nthe \u201ccharmed sunset\u201d has not suddenly shone out through the clouds \u201clow\nadown in the red west.\u201d And the peat-moss on which the road is built\nhas other glories\u2014green moss and moss as red as blood, fairy cups of\nsilver lichen with scarlet rims, and long reaches of bog-asphodel,\nshining like cloth-of-gold and sweetening the winds with their faint,\ndelicate perfume. Here, where our road runs on a firmer foundation, grow\nthe wild willows, all low-growing and all adding a beauty to the year\nin their catkins. When the daisies have hardly ventured to thrust their\nheads into a cold world the catkins gleam in silky silver, changing as\nthe days lengthen to yellow gold. Later on some of them are covered with\nan exquisite white down which floats their seeds about the land. The\nlittle burns which our road bridges ripple and chatter through miniature\nforests of ferns and meadow-sweet, the foxglove shakes its bells above\nthe splendour of the gorse, and the yellow iris hides the young wild-duck\nthat are making their way by ditch and brooklet to the sea. These are but\na few of the flowers with which the road garlands and bedecks herself to\nwelcome the little peoples who love her.\n\nTo the flowers come all day long in summer the humble-bees. These little\nreddish-yellow fellows, hot and angry-looking, have their byke or nest\nin some mossy bank or old turf dyke, to which they carry wax and honey\nfor the fashioning of a round, irregular, dirty-looking comb. The chances\nare that they will be despoiled of their treasure by some errant herd-boy\nbefore July is half over. Their great cousins in black velvet striped\nwith gold prefer to live solitary in some deserted mouse-hole; but they\ncannot, for all their swagger and fierce looks, save their honey from\nBoy the Devourer. Though there are no wasps in Orcady, the roadside\nblossoms have visitors other than the bees. Here come the white and\nbrown butterflies, and those dainty little blue creatures whose wings\nare painted and eyed like a peacock\u2019s tail. And at night moths, white,\nyellow, and gray, flit like ghosts above the sleeping flowers, or dance\nmysteriously in the dusk on silent wings.\n\nWhere the insects come, there follow the insect-eaters. On a June evening\nthere are parts of the road where one may see kittiwakes and black-headed\ngulls hawking for moths. Wheatears and starlings, larks and pipits,\nand, more rarely, thrushes, blackbirds, and wrens, with an occasional\nstonechat, all come to prey on the insect life of the road. Swallows\nthere are none in Orcady, but the ubiquitous sparrow is there. To his\ncontented mind the road offers a continual feast. When the birds set\nup housekeeping in spring, many of them choose their nesting-places in\nthe near neighbourhood of the road. It seems almost as if they argued\nthat here, under the very eye of man, they run less risk of discovery\nthan further afield, where he may expect to find their treasures. From\ncrannies of the loosely-built walls that bound the road you may hear\nthe hungry broods of starlings, sparrows, and wheatears chirping on\nevery side as you pass in May. I have seen a nestful of young larks\ngape up with their foolish yellow throats from a tuft of grass on the\nvery edge of a roadside ditch, and have found a grouse\u2019s nest in the\nheather not fifty yards from the most man-frequented part of the road.\nYellow-hammers, too, and other buntings often nest in the long grass by\nthe ditchside. Here, in a hedge of whin or gorse which crosses the road\nat right angles, are the nests of the thrush, the blackbird, and the\nwren. If you drive along our road in spring you shall see the male pewit,\nin all the glory of his wedding garments, scraping, a few yards from\nthe roadside, the shallow, circular hollow in which his young are to be\nhatched; and a little later you shall see his patient spouse look up at\nyou fearlessly from her eggs, or even, if your passing be at noonday, you\nmay watch her slip off the nest as her mate comes up behind to relieve\nher in her domestic duties. For these birds have learned that man on\nwheels is not to be feared, though man on foot is one of their most\ndreaded enemies.\n\nIn Orcady there are not many four-footed wild things, but those that\ndwell among us are drawn to the road as surely as the birds are. In the\ngloaming rabbits come down to the roadside clover where the bees have\ngathered honey all day. Great brown hares, too, come loping leisurely\nalong the road\u2014moving shadows that melt into the dusk at the least alarm.\nHares always like to make their forms near a road of some sort, for it\naffords them a swift and ready means of flight when they are pursued.\nThey must be hard pressed indeed before they will dive like rabbits into\nroadside drains or culverts, but these refuges are not to be despised\nwhen greyhound or lurcher is close upon their heels. Mice, voles, and\nrats find shelter in the banks of road-scrapings or in the walls and\ndrain-mouths; and the sea-otter does not despise the road when he makes\na nocturnal expedition inland. It is not long since a man who was early\nafoot on a summer morning met a pair of otters almost on the street of\nour sleeping island capital. Seals, of course, cannot use the road, but\nwhere it runs by the sea-marge their shining heads rise up from the\nwater to watch the passers-by, and he who is abroad before dawn may find\nthem on the beaches within a few yards of the roadway.\n\nThe deer, roe, foxes, badgers, stoats, weasels, wild-cats, and moles of\nOrcady are even as the snakes of Iceland. Tame cats ran wild, however,\nwe do not lack, and they take their tithe from the road as surely as do\nthe hawks and falcons. Neither snakes, lizards, nor frogs are found in\nthe isles, but on a damp autumn evening the road is dotted with toads of\nall sizes, which sit gazing into infinity or hop clumsily from before the\npassing wheel.\n\nIn pursuit of beetles, mice, and small birds, hawks and owls come to\nthe road. The kestrel of all hawks loves it the most. He sits upon\nthe humming telegraph wires or hangs poised, like Mahomet\u2019s coffin,\nin mid-air, ever watchful and ready to swoop down upon his prey. The\nsame wires which give him a resting-place often furnish him with food,\nready killed or disabled. When man first set up his posts along the\nroad and threaded them with an endless wire, sad havoc was wrought\namong the birds. Plover\u2014green and golden\u2014snipe, redshanks, and grouse\ndashing across the road in the dusk, struck the fatal wires and fell\ndead or maimed by the wayside. I have seen a blackbird fly shrieking\nfrom a prowling cat, and strike the wire with such force that his head,\ncut clean off, dropped at my very feet. The older birds appear to have\nlearned a lesson from the misfortunes of their fellows, but every autumn\nyoung birds, new to their wings, pay their tribute of victims to the\nwires. More especially is this the case with the plovers, and though\nthe kestrel rarely touches so big a bird when it is whole and sound, he\nfeasts upon their wounded.\n\nThe hen-harrier skims to and fro along the roadside ditches, but he is\na wary and cautious fowl, and is never within gunshot of the road when\na man comes down that way. The merlin, that beautiful miniature falcon,\nglides swift and low across the moors and meadows, flashes suddenly\nover the roadside dyke, and before the small birds have time to realize\nthat their enemy is upon them, he is gone again\u2014only a little puff of\nfeathers floating slowly down the air showing where he struck his prey.\nThe peregrine wheels high overhead, but is too proud and shy a bird to\nhunt upon man\u2019s roads. Nor has the road any charm for the raven, who\ngoes croaking hoarsely over it on his way from shore to hill. The little\nshort-eared owls hide all day among the heather near our road, and come\nflapping up in the gloaming on noiseless wings to take their share of its\ngood things. In the treeless islands the kestrel is not the only bird\nthat sits upon the wires. There the starling sings his weird love song,\nmingling with his own harsh notes the calls of every other bird that the\nislands know; and the buntings chant their lugubrious and monotonous\nditties there.\n\nThe telegraph wires are not the only mysterious works of man which have\ndisturbed and interfered with the feathered life so near to and yet so\nfar apart from his. What a mystery must he be to those fellow-creatures\nwho watch him, with his continual scratching and patching of the breast\nof kindly Mother Earth! Not wholly does he yield the road to them between\nsunset and sunrise; but when he goes abroad in the dark it is often\nin the guise of a rumbling dragon with great eyes of flame. Once, to\nthe writer\u2019s knowledge, a gannet swooped down in valiant ignorance on\nsuch a horrid creature of the night. He flashed suddenly, white out of\nthe darkness, into the circle of light of a doctor\u2019s gig lamps. That\nbold bird his fellows saw no more; and one may fancy that with his\ndisappearance a new terror was added to the fiery-eyed creatures that\nroam the roads by night. He died, though not without a fierce fight for\nhis life; and his skin, cunningly filled out with wire and straw, stands\nunder a glass case in his slayer\u2019s home even unto this day.\n\nIt is in spring and summer that the road sets forth its choicest lures\nfor its lovers, yet even in \u201cwinter and rough weather\u201d it has its\nbeauties for the seeing eye. The puddles and cart-ruts shine like dull\nsilver when the clouds are heavy and gray overhead. When the rain cloud\nblows over and the sky clears, these same shallow pools and channels\ngleam with a cold, clear blue, more exquisite than that of the heavens\nthey reflect; and at night the stars besprinkle them with diamonds.\nAgain,\u2014\n\n \u201cAutumnal frosts enchant the pool,\n And make the cart-ruts beautiful.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen daisies go\u201d\u2014and of all roadside blossoms they linger latest and\nreappear earliest (I have seen them lifting their modest crimson-tipped\nheads in December and opening their yellow eyes before the coltsfoot\nstars begin to shine)\u2014but even when they are gone the gray stone dykes\nhave still a glory of green moss, of gray and golden lichens.\n\nWhen all the land is soaked and sodden with heavy rains, the road, where\nit climbs that low brown hill, will suddenly shine out across the\nintervening miles like a sword flung down among the heather.\n\nWhen the winter rains have given place to the first snowfall of the year,\ngo out early in the morning, before hoofs and wheels have blotted out\nthe traces of the night, and you shall learn, as nothing else save long\nand close observation can teach you, how great is the nocturnal traffic\nof birds and beasts upon the road. Like fine lacework you shall find\ntheir footprints, to and fro, round and across, up the middle and down\nagain. Hares and rabbits, rats and mice, gulls and plovers, thrushes and\nlarks, water-hens and water-rails\u2014these and many more have been busy here\nwhile you slept. And even now bright eyes are watching you, themselves\nunseen\u2014those unsuspected eyes which are ever upon us as we follow the\nroad on our daily round of duty or pleasure. Do they look on us with\nfear or wonder, with contempt or admiration, or with a mingling of all\nthese feelings? That we can never know while the great barrier of silence\nstands between us and them. We blunder across their lives, doing them\ngood and evil indiscriminately, but we understand them no more than they\ncan understand us.\n\nNow in winter, new birds come to our road. Great flocks of snow-buntings,\ncircling and wheeling with marvellous precision, at one moment almost\ninvisible\u2014a dim, brown, moving mist\u2014and the next flashing a thousand\npoints of silver to the level rays of the wintry sun. Scores of\ngreenfinches, which we never see in summer, rise from the road edges to\ncircle a little way and settle again. The \u201cspink spink\u201d of the chaffinch,\nalso unknown to us in summer, may now be heard; fieldfares spring\nchuckling through the air far overhead, and red-winged thrushes hop\namong the stubbles. Down this shallow pass between the low hills come in\nthe gloaming the lines of the wild swans, flying from the upland lochs\nto the sea. Their trumpet call rings far through the frosty air, and as\nwe hear them there stir within us vague thoughts and dreams of the white\nnorth whence they came. As if answering the thought, the wet road shines\nwith a new, faint, unearthly light, as flickering up the northern sky\ncome the pale shifting streamers of the aurora borealis.\n\nOf the human life that pulses intermittently along our road there is not\nspace now to write. Boy and girl, youth and maiden, man and woman, day by\nday, year in, year out, they follow the winding line, till for each in\nturn the day comes when it leads them to the kirkyard or to the sea, and\nthe roads of Orcady know them no more.\n\n DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON.\n (_\u201cLongman\u2019s Magazine.\u201d By permission._)\n\n[Illustration: _Kirkwall Pier\u2014a midnight photograph._]\n\n\n\n\nA LOCH IN ORCADY.\n\n\nIt is one among many, in an island where the lochs lie scattered like\nfragments of the sky fallen among the hills\u2014one among many, and one of\nthe least known of them all. On it the fisherman casts no fly, or casts\nit in vain, for fish have never prospered in its waters. It can never\nbe an ideal trout loch, for it is not fed, like its sister lochs, by\nthe innumerable small burns that channel our low hills. One surface-fed\nstreamlet indeed flows into it, a streamlet hardly worthy of the\ncourtesy-title it bears; but for the most part its waters are drawn from\nthe secret sources of the springs.\n\nIts placid surface mirrors no hillsides purple with heather and green\nwith waving fern, but from its margin the land rolls back in low billows,\nsquared with fields that year by year darken under the plough and smile\nagain in due season with the homely crops of the isles. Yet the little\nloch has charms of its own for those who know it\u2014charms that its wilder\nand more romantic sisters cannot boast. Not a quarter of a mile from its\nwestern shore the Atlantic billows boom and thunder upon the cliffs, or\nroll in, great and green, to burst and spread in a whirling smother of\nfoam upon the sands; and the quiet of the inland water is thrice welcome\nto eye and ear when these are dazzled and wearied by the ceaseless\nturmoil and tumult of the sea.\n\nThe valley in which lies the loch runs down to a deeply curved bay, swept\nand scoured out by the sea, where there is a breach in the great cliff\nrampart that guards our island\u2019s western coast. Up this valley the wind\nhas, through the ages, heaped a huge sandhill which rolls and ripples\nunder its greensward down to the lip of the bay. Between the sand and the\nclay lies the loch, narrowed by the rising slope of sand that forms its\nnorthern bank.\n\nAt its eastern end is the germ of a village. A little shop, a post\noffice, the long, low building which was a school before these days of\nschool boards\u2014these and a few cottages stand between the loch and the\nsunrise. Close to the water\u2019s edge runs the highroad leading from a steep\nlittle seaport town, away through the quiet country, luring men to the\nsea and the great world of adventure beyond it. For with us isles-folk\nthe tune that sings itself in the dreams of youth is not \u201cOver the\n_hills_,\u201d but \u201cOver the _seas_ and far away.\u201d\n\nAlong the northern shore, as close as may be to the water, runs another\nroad\u2014a road that leads to the kirk and the kirkyaird, and, incidentally,\nto the laird\u2019s house. Yet because men, who made the road, must preserve\nan apparent sobriety and straightness of purpose, while Nature, who laid\nthe line between land and water, need care nothing for her reputation,\nthere runs between the road and the water a grassy margin. Here it is\nof the narrowest, and there it spreads out into miniature capes and\npeninsulas, where teal love to rest in the early morning, and rabbits\ncome down to nibble the juicy water-plants long before man is afoot.\n\n[Illustration: _Some \u201cBig Hooses.\u201d\u2014I._\n\n1. Skaill, Sandwick. 2. Binscarth. 3. Hall of Tankerness. 4. Westness,\nRousay. 5. Holodyke, Harray.]\n\nOn the other side of the road the sandbank rises steep and green, a cliff\nof sandy sward sometimes attaining a height of full twenty feet. There\nthe rabbits have their outposts. The green turf is splotched with the\nscattered sand from their burrows, and their white tails bob and flutter\namong the mounds they have made.\n\nThis is but the flank of the sandhill. Farther to the west, where man has\nnever ploughed the sand, the loch is bounded by low, green links which\nswarm with rabbits. Bunkers and hazards there are to delight the soul of\nthe golfer; yet hither that lover of links comes but seldom. The rabbits\nand the birds have it all to themselves, save where some little fields\nare set amid the links, and one or two houses of men.\n\nOut of the turf of the bank projects a great stone, gray with lichen, and\nlooking like the broken and petrified shaft of a mighty spear flung by\none of the giants who of old waged a titanic warfare from isle to isle.\nYet if a vague legend be true, the great stone is rather some bewitched\nliving creature waiting the breaking of spells; for, so they say, there\nis a certain night in each year when it leaves its sandy bed and goes\ndown to quench its thirst in the waters of the loch.\n\nYet the birds do not fear it. The wheatear jerks and bobs upon its\ntopmost edge as we gaze and wonder how and when he came hither. Then\nwith a flirt of his tail he is off to repeat his cheerful, tuneless call\nupon the nearest mound.\n\nAt its western end the loch widens and is divided into two little bays, a\nbay of sand and a bay of mud. In the more northerly of these bays there\nis being fought a long skirmish in the great, slow, endless war between\nland and water; and now victory leans towards the land, for the sand,\nblowing up day by day from the sea, settles here in the shallow water and\ndrives it back.\n\nTwenty years ago, between the loch\u2019s edge and the links lay a field of\nshining yellow sand, to which the golden plover were wont to come down in\ngreat flocks of an autumn evening. Once the sand had established itself,\nthe advance of grass and flowers began. Pushing forward a vanguard of\nreeds and rushes, they pursued their steady march down to the water\u2019s\nedge; and now, where the sands were, is a grassy meadow, starred in its\nseason with the pale blooms of the grass of Parnassus, its landward side\nmeshed by rabbit tracks, the tiny rivulets winding through it beset with\nscented beds of wild peppermint and haunted by snipe, and its outer\nmargin giving cover to duck and coots, to water-hens and dabchicks.\n\nThere are little islets beyond the meadow, some grass-grown, some still\nof bare sand, and a little sandy beach at one place, where redshanks and\nringed plover run in the shallows. Thither too come the dunlin and the\nsandpiper, and rarer birds\u2014knots and ruffs, greenshanks with their triple\ncall, and whimbrels, the \u201csummer whaups\u201d of the isles-folk. Here you may\nwade, knee-deep in clear water, to the very outer edge of the reeds\nand find all the way a footing on hard sand. And the reeds will yield\ntheir secrets. On this heaped pyramid the little grebe is hatching her\neggs, and that reedy platform is a coot\u2019s nest. Or at a later season you\nmay chance, if the Fates be kind, to catch a glimpse of scurrying dusky\nducklings vanishing among the green stems, while their mother flutters\noff, making-believe to have a broken wing.\n\nA wide, shallow ditch divides the marsh from the fields on the south,\nand where the ditch ends an old stone wall begins, marches a little way\ntowards the water, and then breaks off to run round the bay of mud, and\nso up along the south shore of the loch. Where it turns off, this wall\nseems at one time to have meditated an advance into the water, and in\nits retreat has left a tumbled straggle of stones which runs out along a\nlittle cape. Here at twilight come great gray herons, shouting hoarsely,\nto sit gazing into the waters. Here, too, curlews are wont to gather,\nkeeping well out of gunshot from wall or ditch.\n\nThe southern bay\u2014the bay of mud\u2014holds a great reed-bed, where shelter\nmany water-fowl. The swans breed there, with coot and water-hen and\ngrebe. There, too, come the wild duck after their kind, mallard and teal,\npochard and scaup, golden-eye and merganser. But the bottom there is\nmuddy and treacherous, and it is a very doubtful pleasure to follow the\nwild-fowl through their haunts in the reeds. About the inner margin of\nthe reed-bed, among the grassy tussocks and muddy pools, is a favourite\nfeeding-ground for snipe. There, too, the pewits gather, and gulls of\nmany kinds, while redshanks rise screaming from the water\u2019s edge.\n\nOut in the middle of the loch is a small islet or holm. This islet is\nnested on every summer by a colony of black-headed gulls. There, too, the\nterns breed, and there the great white-breasted cormorants, which come\nup after the eels of the loch, sit with black wings widespread in the\nsunlight. The circling, screaming cloud of gulls which hovers over the\nislet is a sight never to be forgotten, and the very thought of the sound\nof their calling brings back those wonderful summer days when all the\nworld was young, and a brighter sun shone in a bluer sky.\n\nThere are men scattered here and there about the world who look back to\nthe loch and its environs as to an earthly paradise; and ever in their\ndreams the loch, the links, the shore are but a beloved and beautiful\nbackground to one central figure\u2014a boy with a gun. The seasons may\nchange and mingle, as seasons do in dreams, but the boy treads again the\nfamiliar places, and renews his old disappointments and triumphs. Each\nman sees different pictures and a different boy, but a boy with a gun is\nalways there.\n\nIt is strange to think that there may be other boys to-day who hold the\nloch and all its pleasant places in fee as we hold it by the tenure of\nour memories. Stranger still to think of all the vanished boys, back\nthrough the years, the generations, the centuries, who have loved our\nlittle loch, hunted by its margins, and dreamed strange dreams among the\nsunny hollows of the links. Could they return to-day, islesman born,\nNorseman, Pict, or Scot, they would find many changes; for man is ever\nbusy improving and altering the face of his kindly Mother Earth: yet the\nloch they would see but little changed.\n\nThe waters shine as of old under the same sunlight, or ruffle into\nminiature white-capped billows with the autumn winds, and by night\nthey mirror the unchanging stars. The splendour of the sandhills in\nsummer, when they robe themselves like kings with the purple and gold\nof crowfoot and thyme; the hot scent of wild peppermint crushed under\nfoot; the trumpet call of the wild swans ringing through the frosty air\non winter nights; the pipings and flutings of the water-fowl among the\nsummer reeds; the screaming of falcons and croaking of ravens from the\ncliffs; and overhead, from dawn to dusk, in the long days of the northern\nsummer, the myriad music of the larks;\u2014all these things they would find\nunchanged. And though the little fences and fields, the roads, the byres\nand barns of men have changed the nearer scene, yet man has not altered\nthe \u201cbeloved outline of familiar hills,\u201d nor silenced the deep music of\nthe eternal sea.\n\n DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON.\n (_\u201cLongman\u2019s Magazine.\u201d By permission._)\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nAMONG THE KELPERS.\n\n\nIn the end of March and the beginning of April, when the isles rise brown\nfrom a steel-gray, wind-ruffled sea, their bare unloveliness is veiled by\npale blue smoke-drifts, which cast over the low, sloping shores a certain\ncharm of remoteness and of mystery. Later in the year, when the summer\nseas are only less blue than the skies above them, and every island\nshines like an emerald, white jets and spirals as from many altars rise\nround all the shores. For spring and summer are the kelper\u2019s seasons, and\nlong, dry days, which scorch and wither the young crops, are welcome to\nthe crofter who has secured a good stock of \u201ctangles\u201d in winter and a big\nshare in a \u201cbrook of ware,\u201d now that \u201cburning weather\u201d has come.\n\nUntil recently no kelp was burned after Lammas\u2014that is, August 2\u2014but of\nlate years, when the season has been dry, the fires have been burned even\nso late as October.\n\nThe kelper\u2019s year may be reckoned from mid-November. Then he is paid for\nhis work in the year that is ended. Then the gales sweep up from north\nor west, tearing from its deep sea-bed the red-ware, of which the long\nsupple stems are known to the islesmen as \u201ctangles.\u201d Should the wind\nfreshen to a gale during the night, the diligent kelper is up and out\nbefore the first glimmer of dawn. Buffeted by the wind and lashed by the\nstinging spray, he peers through the darkness, watching for those shadows\nagainst the white surf of the breaking waves which he knows to be rolling\nmasses of seaweed and wrack. He is armed with a \u201cpick,\u201d an implement\nresembling a very strong hayfork, but with the prongs set, like those of\na rake, at right angles to the handle. With this pick, struggling often\nmid-thigh deep in the rushing waters, he grapples the tumbling seaweed\nand drags it up the beach, out of reach of the waves. For the wind may\nchange, and the \u201cbrook,\u201d as he calls a drift of weed, if not secured\nat once, may be carried out to sea again, or even worse, to some other\nstrand where it will be lost to him. Of course, the winds and waves often\ndo this work alone, and pile the tangles in huge, glittering rolls along\nthe beaches.\n\nWhen the brook is fairly on the strand, the work of the kelper is only\nbegun. He has to carry the tangles from the beach to the seabanks above,\nin carts where that is possible, and where no carts can pass, then\nlaboriously on hand-barrows. I know of one strand on which the great gale\nof November 1893 landed a brook of tangles which kept the kelpers busy\nfor three months. Once on the banks, the tangles are stacked in great\nheaps on \u201csteiths,\u201d or foundations built of sea-rounded stones arranged\nin such fashion as to give free ingress to the air. There they lie till\nspring, when by the action of wind and sun they have become hard, dry,\nand wrinkled\u2014brands ready for the burning.\n\n[Illustration: _Some \u201cBig Hooses.\u201d\u2014II._\n\n1. Trumbland, Rousay. 2. Graemeshall, Holm. 3. Melsetter. 4. Balfour\nCastle. 5. Smoogro, Orphir.]\n\nOnly the tangles can be dried in winter; but the softer parts\u2014the\nfoliage, one may call it\u2014of the red-ware is not lost, but goes to manure\nthe fields, and until a sufficient quantity has been obtained for that\npurpose none is made into kelp.\n\nEach proprietor in the islands has right, generally under a charter\nfrom the Crown, to the weed cast up on his shores. Each ware-strand, or\nbeach where drift-weed comes to land, is set apart for a certain number\nof tenants on the estate to which it belongs, and each brook of ware as\nit comes ashore is divided among these tenants, usually in proportion\nto their rents. The general custom is, that it is decided by lot from\nwhich portion of the brook each man shall draw his share. The middle is\ngenerally considered the best part, as there the weed is in its greatest\nbulk, and less rolled and beaten by the sea than at the ends; but it may\nhappen that one end is near the only part of the beach where the ware can\nbe carried up, and then the man who draws his lot there is saved much\nlabour.\n\nThe sharing of the ware is a fertile seed of dispute and an inexhaustible\nsource of quarrel. The \u201ckelp grieve,\u201d or overseer who acts for the\nproprietor, generally settles all disputes; and each kelper, with the aid\nof his family, carries up his share of the brook, and spreads it on the\ndrying-greens. These are most frequently links that know not cleek or\ndriver, and upon them in the early morning the ware is spread, as thinly\nas may be, to be dried on the short, crisp grass by sun and wind.\n\nTo the man whose daily life is built about with stone and lime, the\nsummer work of the kelpers shines tempting as the waters to Tantalus.\nHe thinks not of that kelper in winter, plunging and struggling with the\nslippery tangles amid the turmoil of the surf, but dreams only of quiet\nsummer days and the gray glimmer of sunlit waters seen through a veil of\ndrifting smoke.\n\n[Illustration: _Kelp-burning._]\n\nThe links roll down in long, green billows from the ruins of an old\nfeudal castle, where the brown rabbit is the door-ward, and in whose\ntowers the starling nests unscared\u2014roll down to a little bay, where\nthe long waves of the Atlantic come up unceasingly, curving in great,\ngreen arches, before they break in thunder of white foam on the brown\nrocks and yellow sand. Where the grass is thin and scant the sand shines\nthrough, and this makes a bad drying-green, as kelp is of less value\nwhen mixed with sand. But here is a short, close turf, nibbled upon by\nrabbits, a racing-ground for lambs, where the thrift or sea-pink meets\nthe meadow-clover, and thyme and crowfoot break in ripples of purple and\ngold to sweeten all the summer air.\n\nThan this a better drying-green cannot be found. On one side of the bay\na long stretch of flat rocks runs down from the grass to the sea, and\nthey too are utilized, when tides allow, to dry the seaweed. Here, in\nMay and June, the whole air tingles with the song of larks innumerable.\nLong before sunrise, before the last stars have faded in the west, they\nare up, weaving a magical garment of song over all the green land. All\nday and far into the dim twilight that is our northern night they sing\nwithout ceasing. Larks are everywhere. In that tuft of grass at our\nfeet is a nest with four of the dusky-brown eggs which hold next year\u2019s\nmusic. There, in the ditch by the roadside, is another nest, from which\nthe featherless young raise feeble necks to gape for food, showing their\nyellow tongues with the three black spots, which children here are told\nwill appear on the tongue of that child who takes the laverock\u2019s nest.\nAgain, a fledgeling, speckled like a toad, rises suddenly from the clover\nand flies a few yards, while its anxious parents circle close overhead\nwith little tremulous bursts of song, or flutter with trailing wing along\nthe grass.\n\nThat pretence of a broken wing, which now seems to be an instinct, must\nsurely at first have been arrived at by a process of reasoning. There\nmust have been long since a broken wing, and a boy, or a dog, or a snake\nto chase the fluttering sufferer, and some wise observer among the\nmother-birds of that forgotten day to see and make a note of the chase,\nand with the heart-leap of a happy inspiration to find in it a new method\nof protecting her eggs and tender young, and to hand down the lesson she\nlearned to our blithesome bird of the wilderness.\n\nBut this summer world, so thrilled with lark music, is not held by the\nlark alone in fee. From every dry-stone wall young starlings are calling,\n\u201cChirr! chirr! chirr!\u201d and the old birds hurry to and fro between their\nnests and the brown fields, soon to wave with oats and bere, where they\ngather the insects and grubs their younglings love. Their bronze feathers\ngleam in the sunshine as they pass, and at their harsh note of warning as\nthey see strangers near their homes the tumult of the young birds among\nthe stones is instantly hushed. The farmer owes these cheerful and busy\nbirds a heavy debt of gratitude, as the number of his insect enemies\nwhich they destroy is incalculable.\n\nOn the smooth turf the dried ware is piled in conical heaps, like\ngiant molehills, to preserve it from the heavy night dews and from\npossible rain, and among the brown hillocks the wheatear bobs up and\ndown, flirting his tail and repeating his cheerful \u201cTchk! tchk! chek-o!\nchek-o!\u201d At times the rapture of summer and of his love inspire him with\na vain desire of song. Up he goes, as if he were in very deed the skylark\nhe takes as his model, uttering harsh and unmelodious notes\u2014a feeble\ntravesty of the golden rain of song that falls from the blue above him.\nBut his flight extends upwards only a yard or two, and he sinks down\nagain, chuckling to himself, as pleased with his song as any minor poet.\n\nAs the day wears down to afternoon the corncrakes begin to call from the\nyoung grass, and all night long they answer each other from field to\nfield. Speak of them to the kelpers, and everywhere one hears the same\nstory of their hibernation in old walls. That landrails migrate has been\nproved beyond question, but equally beyond question does it seem that\nsome few sleep out the winter here. Any kelper will tell how he, or if\nnot he himself then some one of his neighbours, once in winter found a\ncorncrake in some old dyke, to all appearance dead. He carried it home,\nand, laying it before the fire, watched the death-like trance slowly melt\ninto life and motion.\n\nAs to the winter sleep I can only speak at second-hand; but I have seen\nthe birds in summer run like rats into the dry-stone dykes with which\nour crofters so love to encumber and adorn their land. That these dykes\ncan be meant only for ornament is evident to the most casual observer in\nthis land where ponies, cows, sheep, ay, and the very geese, are ofttimes\ntethered by the leg.\n\nYet if the dykes serve no other purpose, they provide nesting-places for\nthe starling and the wheatear, for the rock-pipit and the sparrow, which\nsave the crops of the crofter from destruction by grub and fly. Mice\nalso shelter in them, and rats in those islands where rats are found. In\nthe happy isle of which I write no rat can live. They come ashore time\nand again from vessels touching at the little pier near the village, but\nwhere they go or what fate awaits them none can tell\u2014only this, that they\nare seen no more on the green lap of the world.\n\nBut we have left the ware too long in the sun. Should rain come, the\nkelper sees much of his profit melt away, for the salt which it causes\nto crystallize on the dried weed wastes, and what is left makes inferior\nkelp. All along the edges of the drying-greens are the burning pits or\nkilns\u2014hollows for all the world like huge plovers\u2019 nests in shape, lined\nwith flat blue stones from the beach. They are about two feet deep and\nsome five feet in diameter.\n\nWhen the ware is ready to be burned a smouldering peat or a handful of\nlighted straw is laid in the bottom of the pit. Over this dry ware is\npiled, slowly at first till the fire catches, and ever more rapidly as\nthe red core of smouldering flame waxes.\n\nSometimes ware and tangles are burned separately, but more frequently\nthe kelper burns them together. The tangles make the stronger and better\nkelp. The pit is filled, and the ware or tangles are piled on till the\nmass rises two feet or more above the level of the earth. Then for six or\neight hours it must be carefully watched and tended, and ever new fuel\npiled on to prevent a burst of flame. When tangles are being burnt alone,\nthe kelper finishes off his pit with dried ware, as otherwise the tougher\nknots and lumps of the latest burned tangles would not be thoroughly\nconsumed.\n\nEach pit holds about half a ton, and takes the best part of a summer\nday to burn, the actual time depending on the state of the wind and the\ncondition of the weed. When at last it smoulders low, it is \u201craked\u201d\nbefore being left to cool. One man takes a spade with a very small blade\nand a handle fully seven feet long, the lower half being of iron; two\nother workers, as often women as men, have \u201crakes,\u201d implements not\nunlike a rough caricature of a golfer\u2019s iron, but with handles as long as\nthat of the spade. With these rakes the kelp is mixed and smoothed, while\nthe spadesman turns it up from the bottom of the pit. Hard work it is and\nhot, great jets of flame shooting out under the spade from what looks\nlike gray crumbling earth mingled with black ashes and white quartz; for\nthe kelp assumes so many colours and forms that to describe it accurately\nwere impossible. As the kelper turns and tosses the glowing mass on a\nwarm June evening, he knows he has come near the end of that labour which\nbegan in the gray winter dawn, when the rolls of red-weed lashed about\nhim amid the roaring backwash of the waves.\n\nWhen the kelp has been sufficiently mixed, the pit is levelled and\nsmoothed over, all the outlying ashes are swept in with a handful of\ndry ware, and it is left to cool and harden. Then, as the kelpers turn\nhomewards, the white sea fog creeps up by the rocks where all day long\nthe kelp smoke drifted.\n\nSuch is the work of the kelper, and such the places of his toil. An easy\nand a pleasant life it is compared to that of the men who labour in the\nbowels of the earth or in the great manufactories of smoke-darkened\ncities. He has the green turf under his foot and the clear sky over\nhim, the sea makes music for him unceasingly, and the salt winds bring\nhim health and strength. The furred and feathered folks share his land\nwith him, and gather their harvest on the same shores. As he goes to\nhis work in the morning, through the silver mists of dawn, a flock of\nblue rock-doves with great clatter of wings flash off through the clear\nair. The redshank pipes shrilly at him from the copestone of the nearest\nwall, and over the ploughed fields where their precious eggs are lying\nthe pewits wheel and scream. \u201cPewit-weet! pee-weet!\u201d\u2014their note has in\nit for the isles folk, to whom the cuckoo is but a name, the very voice\nof spring and hope and love. The ringed plover stands motionless on his\nthree-toed yellow feet, calling with his sweet, low note, and invisible\nsave to the keenest eye until he makes a little run and betrays himself.\nLinnets swing and sing on the swaying thistles and among the heather. On\nthe blue waters of the bay a little fleet of eider ducks is afloat, and\ntheir curious, hoarse, barking chuckle rolls up over the waters. Perhaps\na seal raises his round head, shining like a bottle, and gazes with\nmild eyes at the men upon the beaches; while overhead gulls and terns\nswing past, cleaving the strong air with careless wing. Far out to sea\nthe white gannets hawk to and fro. Suddenly one poises in mid-air for a\nmoment, then drops like a stone into the water, a fountain of white spray\nflashing up in the sunlight as he disappears. Your kelper will tell you\nhow in his younger days he caught the solan geese by means of a herring\nfastened to a board and sunk a few inches below the surface of the water.\nThe bird sees the fish, poises, and swoops down only to drive his mighty\nbill through the board and break his neck.\n\nNearer shore than the gannets the kittiwakes are fishing, when suddenly\nthere glides among them a dusky skua, who forces the luckiest fisher to\ndrop his spoil, which the ravager catches in mid-air and bears off. A\ntrue pirate of the air is the skua, and reminds me always of those low,\ndark feluccas so dreadful and so dear to the sailor on the high seas\nof romance. Far up in the blue ether a peregrine falcon sweeps round,\ncircling wide on motionless, outspread wings, or a raven goes croaking\nfrom the cliffs to seek a prey, as he may have done for years unnumbered.\nIf the tradition of his longevity may be believed, that dark corbie who\nflies croaking over the kelpers toiling in the morning sunlight, and sees\nthe white smoke rise from their harmless kilns\u2014what fires may he not have\nseen upon these beaches, and what strange smoke of sacrifice go up from\nforgotten altars to the unchanging heavens? Give him even a shorter lease\nof life than that which tradition assigns him, and still he may remember\nthe blazing beacons leap up to carry from isle to isle a warning of the\ncoming of Norse invaders. Allow him only two short centuries, and yet\nhe must have watched the smoke of many a burning homestead in the days\nwhen the followers of the \u201cWee, wee German Lairdie\u201d avenged their private\nwrongs in the name of their king. The older men among the kelpers still\ntell tales of the Jacobite lairds who lay hid like conies in the clefts\nof the rocks till these calamities were overpast.\n\nThe old stories\u2014the folk-tales of the isles\u2014linger fragmentary among the\nkelping people. One may hear from them how all the fairies were seen to\nleave some island riding on tangles, and how they all went down in the\nwindy firth, never to be seen again of mortals. Here is a man, bowed and\ncrippled by rheumatism, who will tell how he was shot in the back by a\n\u201chill-ane\u201d when ploughing. He saw not his assailant, but only the shadow\nof him on the earth. Another old man remembers having his side hurt as\na boy, and going to a \u201cwise woman\u201d to be cured. She told him he had been\n\u201cforespoken\u201d\u2014that is, bewitched\u2014by a woman then dead, and made him drink\nwater mixed with earth from the \u201cfore-speaker\u2019s\u201d grave. She then put a\nhoop covered with a sheep\u2019s skin on his head, a basin of water on that,\nand poured melted lead through the head of a key into the water, giving\nthe patient a piece of the lead in the form of a heart as a charm. The\ncure wrought by this modern Norna was not, however, effectual.\n\nThere are many quaint and even beautiful turns of speech among these\nhard-working crofters. Their faces shine on my memory red like setting\nsuns through the white reek of the kelp pits. Here is one whose fathers\nfled from Perthshire after \u201cthe \u201945,\u201d and who thinks that some day he\nwould like to go back to see the old place again\u2014the \u201cold place\u201d which\nnone of his have looked upon for one hundred and forty years! He toils\nnight and day in summer cultivating his croft, fishing for lobsters, and\nmaking kelp. His rent is perhaps seven or eight pounds. Books, you would\nthink, must be unknown to him; yet he will tell you he has \u201calways been\na great reader of Sir Walter Scott\u2019s works,\u201d and under the spell of that\nmighty wizard his hard life has budded and wreathed itself with romance.\n\nAt the next pit is a man of a very different type. Quiet and slow, this\nman has led an honest life, with an eye ever to the main chance. Pressed\nonce for an answer to some question important to the settling of a kelp\ndispute, after vain attempts at evasion, he burst out, \u201cGie me time, Mr.\nBlank, to wind up me mind.\u201d\n\nAcross the bay the pits are watched by an old bachelor\u2014a _rara avis_\namong the kelpers\u2014a little, clean-shaven, mouse-like man, who has \u201cmoney\nin the bank.\u201d He holds a croft where his ancestors have dwelt longer than\nthe memory of man extends. The peat fire smouldering on his hearth has,\nto his certain knowledge, burned unquenched for two hundred years. How\nmuch longer ago it was kindled tradition recordeth not. Every night his\nlast work is to \u201crest\u201d that precious fire, and every morning it claims\nhis earliest care. All his life he has toiled, gathering a harvest both\nfrom land and sea, and a harvest of content and happiness as well, such\nas few crofters know how to reap. \u201cWhen I come oot on a fine simmer\nmorning at four o\u2019clock wi\u2019 never anither reek but me ain, I\u2019m laird o\u2019\na\u2019 the land as far as I can see.\u201d He has the secret of the lordship of\nthe eye, which can give to a penniless man more profit of the pleasant\nearth than to the greatest lord of land among them all.\n\nLook at this fellow, gaunt, black, and shaggy; he might be one of\n_Punch\u2019s_ Scotch elders. Asked if he remembered some event of thirty\nyears ago\u2014\u201cNo, sir,\u201d he said. \u201cYe see, I wasna at hame then; I was divin\u2019\nin the face o\u2019 the sea for a livin\u2019.\u201d He had been a fisherman, and quite\nnaturally chose to say so in this poetic phrase.\n\nThese are only a few from among the many typical kelpers whose friendship\nI am proud to own. But if the types among them are many and various, in\none thing they are all alike\u2014their capacity for hard work. That work\ndoes not cease with the smoothing over of the smouldering pits. When\nthe kelp has cooled it is broken up and lifted out of the pit in great\nlumps which look like gray slag, with streaks of white, blue, and brown\nrunning through it. Should it be exposed to rain its quality is much\ndeteriorated, and to avoid this danger storehouses are built by the\nlairds, to which the kelp is carted. The kelp grieve weighs each man\u2019s\nquantity as it is brought in, and he is paid a fixed sum per ton. When\na sufficient quantity is gathered in the store a vessel is chartered,\nand where there is a pier the kelp is carted alongside. In islands\nwhere there is no pier it must be taken off in small boats. The kelpers\nthemselves provide the carriage. Then the sails are spread, and the\nproduce of the year\u2019s work is carried off to chemical works far over\nsea, where, by processes unknown to me, iodine is extracted from it. The\nkelper receives about two pounds ten shillings for each ton of kelp he\nmanufactures, and the importance and benefit of the industry to these\ncrofters cannot be overestimated. I have known a man paying a rent of\neight pounds receive thirty-four pounds for his kelp in one year. Nor\nis the actual price he receives the only benefit the crofter derives\nfrom kelp. Were it not for the share of the profit falling to the laird,\nhe too often could not, in these days, afford to assist his tenants in\nimproving either their houses or their land. On the whole, then, the\nkelper\u2019s lot is not an unhappy one. His work lies in pleasant places, and\nit is eminently healthy, and his days, as a rule, are long in the land\nand on the sea.\n\n DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON.\n (_\u201cLongman\u2019s Magazine.\u201d By permission._)\n\n\n\n\nA WHALE-HUNT IN ORKNEY.\n\n\n\u201cWhales in the bay so soon in the season!\u201d exclaimed the clergyman,\nstarting to his feet. \u201cCome away,\u201d he continued, \u201cyou have yet another\nday before you; we imitate the great of old, who entertained their guests\nwith tournaments.\u201d\n\nThe manse garden commanded a fine view of Mill Bay, and on rushing out\ninto the open air we saw a long dark line of boats, some with sails and\nsome with oars, stretching across the blue waters of the broad voe,\nupwards of a mile from the shore. The practised eye of my host caught the\ngleam of dorsal fins in front of the boats, and we immediately hurried\ndown to the beach, scarcely drawing breath till we stood on the bank\nabove the sands of Mill Bay. The inmates of the neighbouring cottages\nhad already assembled in eager groups on the grassy downs, and other\nislanders still came flocking from remoter farms and cabins to the shore.\nSeveral of the men were armed with harpoons, while farm lads flourished\nover their shoulders formidable three-pronged \u201cgraips\u201d and long-hafted\nhayforks.\n\nMany of the matrons had their heads encased in woollen \u201cbuities,\u201d and\nthis peculiar headdress imparted a singular picturesqueness to the\nexcited groups on the sea-bank. Other boats with skilled hands on board\nput off from various points along the shore, and the fleet of small craft\nin the bay was rapidly increased by the arrival of fresh yawls. The crowd\nof urchins on the beach, who \u201cthee\u2019d\u201d and \u201cthou\u2019d\u201d each other like little\nQuakers in the Orcadian vernacular, cheered lustily as boat after boat\nhove in view round the headlands, swelling the fleet of whalers.\n\nThe line of boats was now little more than a quarter of a mile from the\nbeach. The bottle-nosed or ca\u2019ing whales, showing their snouts and dorsal\nfins at intervals, seemed to advance slowly, throwing out skirmishers and\ncautiously feeling their way. As the beach was smooth and sandy, with\na gentle slope, the boatmen in pursuit were endeavouring to drive the\n\u201cschool\u201d into the shallows, where harpoons, hayforks, and other weapons\ncould be used to advantage.\n\nThe excitement of the spectators on land increased as the long line of\nthe sea-monsters drew closer inshore. From the boats there came wafted\nacross the water the sound of beating pitchers and rattling rowlocks,\nand the hoarse chorus of shouting voices. This babel of noises, which\nthe water mellowed into a wild war-chant with cymbal accompaniment, was\nmeant to scare the \u201cschool\u201d and hasten the stranding of the whales. But\nan incident occurred that changed the promising aspect of affairs, turned\nthe tide of battle, and gave new animation to the scene.\n\nEager to participate in the expected slaughter, two or three farm lads,\nwhose movements had escaped notice, suddenly shot off from the shore in\na skiff rowing right in front of the advancing line. The glitter and\nsplash of oars alarmed the leaders, and the entire \u201cschool,\u201d seized with\na sudden panic, wheeled round and dashed at headlong speed into the line\nof pursuing boats.\n\nA shout rose from the shore as the flash of tail-fins, the heaving of\nthe boats, and the rapid strokes of the boatmen showed all too plainly\nthe escape of the whales, and the success of their victorious charge.\nAway beyond the broken line of the fleet they plunged in wild stampede,\nstriking the blue waters into spangles of silver foam. Arches of spray,\nblown into the air at wide distances apart, served to indicate the size\nof the \u201cschool\u201d and the speed of the fugitives.\n\n\u201cWhew!\u201d exclaimed my reverend friend, \u201cthat was a gallant charge, and\ndeserved to succeed; but I hope our brave lads will yet put salt upon\ntheir tails. The boatmen have toiled hard for their share of the fish,\nand great would be the pity if the whales made right off to the open sea.\nIt is not every day that a \u2018drave\u2019 a hundred strong visits our shores,\nand there they go round the head of Odness in full career.\u201d\n\nA commotion among the crowd at a short distance along the beach here\narrested our attention. The exciting spectacle of the grand charge and\nwild flight of the whales had so absorbed our gaze that we failed to\nnotice a mishap which was fortunately more ludicrous than alarming.\nThe three youths who foolishly rowed off from the shore and caused the\nstampede had suffered for their rashness by getting their skiff capsized\nwhen the sea-monsters wheeled round to the charge. On gaining the\noutskirts of the crowd, we found the three luckless whale-hunters already\nbeached. Bonnetless, dripping, and disconsolate, they were the objects\nof mirth to some, of commiseration to others.\n\nAt last they made off, and we immediately set out in the direction of\nOdness to catch a sight of the whales, which had quite disappeared from\nthe bay. The boats had turned in pursuit when the \u201cschool\u201d escaped, and\nthey were now making all haste to double the headland. On gaining the top\nof the cliffs, we were glad to observe that the whales, recovered from\ntheir fright, drifted leisurely along the coast, giving way at times to\neccentric gambols.\n\n\u201cAll right!\u201d cried my friend, handing me back my binocular; \u201cthey are\ncoasting away famously round Lamb Head, and they are almost certain to\ntake a snooze in Rousholm Bay, which is the best whale-trap I know in\nOrkney. Let us sit down here on the top of the cliffs till the boats come\nabreast, and then we shall take a nearer way to Rousholm than following\nthe coast.\u201d\n\nThe summit of the rocks, softly carpeted with grass, moss, and wild\nflowers, afforded a pleasant resting-place, and commanded a picturesque\nprospect. To eastward there was a wide expanse of sea, stretching away\nwithout a break to the Norwegian fiords. The whale-hunting fleet,\ncomposed of all varieties of small craft, was soon well abreast of\nour resting-place. A fine and favourable breeze had sprung up, and\nfishing-yawls, with their brown sails outspread, coasted briskly along.\nThe rearguard of the fleet consisted of row-boats manned by patient\nand determined boatmen, who pulled hard at the oars in the prospect\nof winning some share of the spoil. We remained a short time on the\nmoss-crowned cliffs gazing on the animated scene, and listening to the\nvoices of the boatmen, the plash of the waves below, and the plaint\nof restless sea-birds. On leaving our lair we dropped down upon a\nneighbouring farmhouse, where a couple of \u201cshelties\u201d were placed at our\ndisposal, and away we trotted along field-paths and rough tracks to the\nhead of Rousholm Bay, on the south side of the island. From all the\ncottages and farms in the district the islanders were flocking to the\nshore of the bay, and we thus had good hope that a portion of the school\nat least had run blindfold into the whale-trap of Rousholm. On nearing\nthe shore we were delighted to find that our hope was fulfilled. A large\ndetachment of the whales, supposed to number one hundred and fifty, had\nentered the bay, while the rest of the school had disappeared amid the\nreaches of the Stronsay Firth.\n\nRounding the point of Torness, and stretching across the mouth of the\nbay, the fleet of small craft again hove into view, and pressed upon the\nrear of the slowly advancing and imprisoned whales. Among the onlookers\nthere was now intense excitement, the greatest anxiety being manifested\nlest the detached wing should follow the main army, and again break the\nline of boats in a victorious charge. The shoutings and noise of the\nboatmen recommenced, and echoed from shore to shore of the beautiful and\nsecluded bay. A fresh alarm seized the monsters, but instead of wheeling\nabout and rushing off to the open sea as before, they dashed rapidly\nforwards a few yards, pursued by the boats, and were soon floundering\nhelplessly in the shallows.\n\nThe scene that ensued was of the most exciting description. Fast and\nfurious the boatmen struck and stabbed to right and left; while the\npeople on the shore, forming an auxiliary force, dashed down to assist\nin the massacre, wielding all sorts of weapons. The wounded monsters\nlashed about with their tails, imperilling life and limb, and the ruddy\nhue of the water along the stretch of shore soon indicated the extent of\nthe carnage. Some of the larger whales displayed great tenacity of life;\nbut the unequal conflict closed at last, and no fewer than a hundred and\nseventy carcasses were dragged up on the beach.\n\nOne or two slight accidents occurred, but to me it seemed marvellous that\nthe boatmen did not injure each other as much as the whales amid the\nconfusion and excitement of the scene. The carcasses, as I was informed,\nwould realize between \u00a3300 and \u00a3400; and grateful were the people that\nProvidence had remembered the island of Stronsay, by sending them a\nwonderful windfall of bottle-noses fresh from the confines of the Arctic\nCircle.\n\n DANIEL GORRIE\n (_\u201cSummers and Winters in the Orkneys.\u201d_)\n\n[Illustration: _Wreck at Burgh Head, Stronsay._]\n\n\n\n\nARTICLES MADE OF STRAW.\n\n\nThe Orkney peasantry of two centuries ago lived in a poor country\u2014a\ncountry ground down by the tyranny of greedy and unscrupulous rulers; a\ncountry whose inhabitants had neither the raw materials from which to\nconstruct many necessary utensils nor the money to purchase them. It is\ninteresting to note some of the ways in which our forefathers overcame\nthe circumstances in which they were placed. One of the most notable is\nthe ingenious use of straw for the construction of many domestic utensils.\n\nThe materials from which articles of straw were made were principally\n_bent_ and the straw of black oats. The bent, after being cut, was\nloosely bound into rough sheaves and left to dry and wither. It was then\nbound into neat sheaves called _beats_, the legal size of which used to\nbe two spans in circumference. Each beat was carefully pleated at the\nupper end, gradually tapering upwards into a cord which served to bind\ntwo beats together. The pair of beats so fastened was called a \u201cband of\nbent,\u201d twelve of which formed a \u201cthrave.\u201d From this bent were made the\ncords, always called _bands_, which were used in the manufacture of\nstraw. During the long winter evenings each ploughman was required to\nwind into bands one beat of bent. The cord was spun or twisted by the\nfingers, the two strands being each twisted singly, and at the same time\nlaid into each other in such a way that the tendency of the strands to\nuntwist was the means of keeping the two firmly twisted together.\n\nThe straw used was that of the common Orkney black oats, which was at\nonce tougher and more flexible than that of other cultivated kinds.\nThe straw to be used was not threshed with the flail, which would have\nspoiled it, but was selected from the sheaves, held in a bunch between\nthe hands, and beaten on some hard edge to remove the grain. Such straw\nwas called _gloy_. From those two materials, bent bands and gloy, a very\nwide variety of indispensable articles were manufactured by the Orkney\nfarmer.\n\nThese articles may be divided into three classes\u2014flexible, semi-flexible,\nand inflexible. Of the flexible type, the most simple and primitive\narticle was the _sookan_, or, to give it a still older name, the\n_wislin_. This was simply straw twisted loosely into a thick cord of one\nstrand, for temporary use. If not at once used to tie round something, it\nhad to be wound into a clew to preserve its twist.\n\nA very common use of sookans in the winter-time was to form what were\nknown as \u201cstraw boots.\u201d A loop of the sookan was passed round the instep,\nover the shoe or _rivlin_, the thick straw cord being then wound round\nthe ankles and the lower part of the leg. When the snow was deep, such\nstraw boots formed a very comfortable part of the peasant\u2019s attire. Less\nthan a century ago, on a Sunday when the snow lay deep on the ground,\nmore than forty men wearing straw boots were seen in one Orkney church.\nIt must be added that on the way home some of them were severely reproved\nby a neighbour for having performed this unnecessary labour on the\nSabbath day!\n\nNext in order comes _simmans_. This was a strong straw rope made of two\nstrands, also twisted by hand, and rolled into great balls or clews, the\nsize of which was the width of the barn door. The main use of simmans\nwas to thatch the corn stacks, and also the roofs of the cottages. A\nnewly-thatched cottage, with the bright warm colour of the new straw\nropes, was a pleasing object in an Orkney landscape. The sombre colour\ngiven when the simmans were twisted of brown heather was less cheerful,\nbut Nature did her best even here by her decoration of the low walls with\nbright yellow and green lichens.\n\nMost of the ropes and cordage required by the Orkney farmer were made\neither of hair or of bent. The bent bands already noticed were made\ninto ropes on a rude machine called a _tethergarth_, and were used\nfor tethering cattle and sheep, and for \u201cboat tethers\u201d for small\nfishing-boats. Finer bent ropes were applied to a great many uses, such\nas flail \u201choods,\u201d sheep shackles, and all parts of horse harness. A very\nimportant part of this, the collar or _wazzie_, was formed by twisting\nfour thick folds of straw together; and, when properly made, I suspect\nthe wazzie was much cooler for the horse than the modern collar with\nits absurd cape. Even the plough-traces were made of bent ropes, which,\nif quickly worn, were easily replaced. For bringing in the crop, a large\nnet made of bent cord, and called a _mazie_, was put round a bundle of\nsheaves, and suspended, one on each side of the horse, from the horns of\nthe _clibber_, a rough kind of wooden pack-saddle.\n\n_Flackies_, or mats made of straw bound together with bent cord, were\nused for many purposes. Small ones were used as door-mats, and large\nones were hung up as an apology for an inner door. Horse flackies were\nlaid over the back of the horse to protect it from the friction of the\nclibber, and his sides from the load which it supported. Flackies were\nalso fixed on the rafters, under the straw, when thatching house roofs.\n\nWe next come to what I have called the semi-flexible class of straw\narticles. The first to be noticed is the _kaesie_, which, in various\nshapes and sizes, was put to a great number of uses. It was made of\nstraw, bound by bent cord, like the flackie, but was of a closer texture,\nand it was usually in the shape of a basket. The _meils-kaesie_ was so\ncalled because it was made to hold a \u201cmeil\u201d of corn\u2014that is, a little\nover a hundredweight.\n\nIt was in these meils-kaesies that the corn was carried to the mill, and\nthe meal brought back from it; for carts were unknown, and roads were\nbut paths or tracks. Each horse carried a full kaesie on either side.\nThe horses travelled in single file, the head of each being tied to the\ntail of the one in front. A man was in charge of each pair of horses,\nto attend to the proper balancing of their loads. A train of twenty or\nthirty horses marching in this way was a picturesque sight. On arriving\nat the mill, the burdens were removed, and the head of the foremost horse\nwas tied to the tail of the hindmost, which prevented their moving away\nuntil their drivers were ready to return home.\n\nNext may be mentioned the _corn-kaesie_, which was used to hold dressed\ngrain. These were shaped somewhat like a barrel, and were made in various\nsizes. Then comes the common kaesie, used for carrying burdens on the\nback. These also were of different sizes. In form they were narrow and\nrounded at the bottom, and widened gradually towards the top, which was\nfinished by a stiff circular rim called the _fesgar_, to give firmness\nto the basket. To the fesgar were fastened the ends of a bent rope of\nsuitable length, called the _fettle_, by which the kaesie was suspended\nfrom the shoulders of the bearer.\n\nTo the same class as the kaesies belong the _cubbies_, the names and uses\nof which are legion. These were smaller than the former, and firmer in\ntexture, while the shapes showed more variety, as might be needed for\ntheir special uses. We need only mention a few. The windo\u2019 or winnowing\ncubbie was used to pour out the corn gently on the barn floor, while the\nwind blowing in at one door and out at the other carried away the chaff.\nThe sawin\u2019 or sowing cubbie carried the seed corn in spring. The horse\ncubbie was used as a muzzle for a horse when necessary. The hen cubbie\nwas suspended as a nest for the domestic fowls. The use of the spoon\ncubbie, which hung by the side of the fire, needs no explanation. The\nbait cubbie and the sea cubbie must close our list, the former used for\ncarrying bait, and the latter for the catch of fish. A cubbie was always\ncarried by the beggars who swarmed before the introduction of the poor\nlaw, and to \u201ctak\u2019 the cubbie and the staff\u201d was a phrase meaning to be\nforced to beg one\u2019s bread.\n\nWe now come to what I have called inflexible articles. Here we may\nmention first the _luppie_, once in universal use for holding all sorts\nof dry materials, such as meal, burstin, eggs, and the like. Luppies were\nround and barrel-shaped, close in texture, and as firm as a board. They\nvaried much in size, being made from about ten inches to three feet in\nheight. They had a rim round the lower end to protect the bottom, and two\n\u201clugs\u201d at the top. Those of the smallest size were used by housewives as\nwork-baskets.\n\nThe work on these luppies, and on the straw stools to be mentioned next,\nwas considered the finest and most durable. Small coils or gangs of straw\nwere firmly and closely laced over one another. The lacing cord was of\nthe strongest bent, and the projecting ends of the bent were carefully\nclipped off. These bands were known as _stool bands_.\n\nWe now come to the straw stools or chairs, which were mainly of three\nkinds. The first was a sort of low, round stool without any back. Such a\nstool could be easily lifted to or from the fireside, and on an emergency\ncould be instantly converted into a luppie by simply being turned upside\ndown. The next was called the low-backed stool, having a semi-circular\nback reaching to the shoulders of the sitter. Last comes the high-backed\nor hooded stool, which was the easy-chair of the Orkney cottage. In\nlater times the seat was always made of wood, in the form of a square\nbox, with a slightly projecting top. Strips of wood were used to support\nthe front edges of the back, and to form elbow rests in front of these.\nThe seat box usually contained a drawer, in which the goodman kept his\nsupply of snuff, and perhaps the few books which made up the cottage\nlibrary. This form of chair, which is now regarded as the orthodox one,\nwas invented in the middle of the eighteenth century by a native of North\nRonaldsay, as the construction of the seat of wood took far less time\nthan working it all in straw; but the older form, with its circular straw\nseat, and the side slips and elbow rests entirely covered with straw and\nbent cords, was much more elegant in the lines of its form.\n\n WALTER TRAIL DENNISON.\n (_Adapted from \u201cOrcadian Papers.\u201d_)\n\n[Illustration: _Making a straw-backed chair._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WEATHER OF ORKNEY.\n\n\nA foreign writer has said that Englishmen grumble more at their weather\nthan at anything else, while it is really the only thing about their\ncountry of which they might be proud. His meaning is that, compared with\nother regions of the world, the climate of Great Britain is singularly\nfree from disagreeable extremes of heat or cold, and of drought or flood.\nAnd if this is true of Great Britain as a whole, it is especially true\nof Orkney. In summer we rarely suffer from heat, and in winter we are\nequally free from extreme cold. The mean temperature of the whole year in\nOrkney (45\u00b74\u00b0) is little below that of Aberdeen (46\u00b73\u00b0), of Alnwick in\nNorthumberland (46\u00b73\u00b0), or of Kew near London (49\u00b74\u00b0).\n\nThe equability of our temperature, or its freedom from all extremes of\nheat and cold, is due to the influence of the sea. The temperature of the\nocean varies only about 13\u00b0 during the year; it is lowest in February,\nbeing 41\u00b76\u00b0, while that of the air is 38\u00b76\u00b0, and is highest in August,\nbeing 54\u00b75\u00b0, while that of the air is 54\u00b0.\n\nThe smallness of the difference between the annual mean temperature of\nOrkney and that of Kew is really due to the mildness of our winters.\nTaking the mean of the three winter months, we find that of Orkney to be\nalmost the same as that of Kew, and slightly higher than that of Alnwick.\nFor the three summer months, however, Orkney is three degrees colder than\nAlnwick and eight degrees colder than Kew. The hottest day in Orkney\nduring the last thirty years only reached 76\u00b0, while at Kew 92\u00b0 was\nrecorded.\n\nThe extent to which the sea influences our climate can best be seen by\ncomparing it with that of an inland or continental station of similar\nlatitude. Winnipeg, in the province of Manitoba, formerly well known to\nOrkney men as Fort Garry in the Red River Settlement, lies in nearly the\nsame latitude as London. Its mean temperature, however, during the three\nwinter months is only 0\u00b79\u00b0, or thirty-one degrees below freezing-point,\nand thirty-eight degrees lower than that of Orkney; in summer it is 66\u00b0,\nor thirteen degrees above that of Orkney.\n\nNot only is our climate ruled by the sea; it is ruled by a sea whose\nwaters are themselves somewhat warmer than their latitude might lead us\nto expect. The temperature of the ocean is often affected by currents,\nbringing water either from warmer or from colder regions. In the case of\nthe ocean waters round our coasts, the movement is from the south-west.\nThis movement is due at first to the Gulf Stream, which carries a great\nmass of warm water from the Gulf of Mexico into the North Atlantic, and\nafterwards to a surface drift caused by the prevailing south-westerly\nwinds.\n\nOur coast waters are therefore somewhat warmer than they would be if\nthere were no such movement, and much warmer than if there were a current\nin the opposite direction, sweeping along the shores of Norway from the\nnorthern ocean. If we compare our climate with that of Nain, in Labrador,\nwhich lies in nearly the same latitude, and is also on the Atlantic\ncoast, we shall see how much depends upon the ocean currents. The cold\nArctic current which washes the Labrador coast, bringing with it melting\nicebergs, snow, and fog, reduces the mean annual temperature of Nain to\nless than 26\u00b0, more than nineteen degrees below that of Orkney.\n\nWhile the climate of oceanic islands is benefited by the equable\ntemperature of the ocean, it is often marked by excessive moisture and\nrainfall. Yet even in this matter we shall see that Orkney has little to\ncomplain of, while, of course, serious droughts are practically unknown.\n\nScotland, though small in area, shows great inequality in the\ndistribution of its rainfall, due to the diversity of its surface and to\nthe fact that most of its rain is brought by westerly winds. Districts\nnear the west coast, especially if mountainous, have a much greater\nrainfall than those towards the east, which are also on the whole less\nelevated. Thus considerable portions of the West Highlands have an annual\nrainfall of over 80 inches, Ben Nevis recording over 150. Many parts of\nthe eastern Lowlands, on the other hand, have only 30 inches or less; and\nCromarty, which is the driest station in Scotland, has only 23 inches.\n\nCompared with the mainland of Scotland, then, it does not seem that the\nclimate of our islands gives us much cause for grumbling, for our annual\nrainfall varies from 37\u00b77 inches at Sandwick to 30\u00b77 at Start Point in\nSanday. Our wettest months are October, November, and December, during\nwhich we receive from one-third to one-half of our yearly rainfall; our\ndriest months are April, May, and June, which together give us only\none-eighth of the total.\n\nOne fact about rain is sometimes overlooked: in cool climates rain brings\nheat. This may not be noticeable at the time, but its general effect can\nbe observed. Just as it requires heat to turn water into vapour, and as\nevaporation always produces cold, so the change back again from vapour\ninto water sets free some of this heat, raising the temperature of the\nair, of the rain itself, and of the land on which it falls. Much of the\nwarming effect of our westerly winds is due not to the direct warmth of\nthe Gulf Stream, as used to be supposed, but simply to the fact that\nthese winds are rain-carrying winds. They thus bring to us the benefit\nof that solar heat which far away to the south-west caused the vapour to\nrise from the surface of the ocean.\n\nThe chief difference between our weather and that of Scotland is,\nperhaps, the greater prevalence of high winds in Orkney. The land being\nlow, our islands are swept by the full force of the gales so common in\nthe North Atlantic. When speaking of winds, it may be useful to remember\nthe classification which is recognized by the Meteorological Office.\nA wind moving at the rate of thirteen miles an hour is called a light\nbreeze; forty miles represents the velocity of a moderate gale, and\nfifty-six miles a strong gale; seventy-five miles an hour is the speed\nof a storm, and ninety miles that of a hurricane. We have the record of\nonly one hurricane, on November 17, 1893, with a velocity of ninety-six\nmiles. Several gales of over eighty miles have been experienced, and one\nsummer gale of seventy-five miles in the year 1890. During the fifteen\nyears 1890 to 1904 three hundred gales were recorded in Orkney, while\nAlnwick experienced only one hundred and fifty-seven, and Valencia, on\nthe west coast of Ireland, one hundred and thirty for the same period.\nFleetwood, on the coast of Lancashire, however, had a record of three\nhundred and six gales during those years.\n\nEvery Orcadian must have noticed a type of weather which is common all\nthe year round, but especially so in winter. On a blue sky wisps of\ncirrus or \u201cmare\u2019s-tail\u201d cloud appear in patches. Gradually these increase\ntill they form a continuous haze, in which a lunar halo or \u201cbroch,\u201d and\noccasionally solar halos or \u201csun-dogs,\u201d may be seen. Then the wind, which\nwas light and probably westerly, backs to the southward and eastward, and\nthe sky becomes threatening. The wind increases, perhaps to a moderate\ngale, and rain falls heavily. The wind then shifts towards the south and\nsouth-west, increasing in force, sometimes quite suddenly, or it may\nchange still further round towards the north. Meantime the barometer,\nwhich has been low and falling, begins to rise briskly, and the weather\nclears.\n\nTo understand how this common series of weather changes comes about, a\nlittle knowledge of cyclones is necessary. A cyclone is a movement in\nthe air resembling a whirlwind; the cyclones of the Indian Ocean and\nthe China seas, indeed, are real whirlwinds of the most violent and\ndestructive type. In the North Atlantic they exist for the most part as\nenormous eddies in the great air-ocean, often several hundreds of miles\nin diameter, probably rotating with the force of a gale near the centre,\nand at the same time moving forward as a whole at a moderate speed. A\ncyclone has been known to keep company with one of our Atlantic liners\nduring its whole voyage, but the rate of progress is often less than this.\n\nA cyclone owes its origin to some local excess of heat, such as might\narise from a heavy rainfall, the heat causing an upward movement in\nthe air. The inrush of cool air which then follows begins a circular\nor whirling motion. The moist air in front of the cyclone gives up\nits moisture with the fall in temperature, causing the rains that are\ninvariably found in front of such a movement. The air after the rainfall\nis dry and warmer, and its ascent keeps up a partial vacuum or area of\nlow pressure, which is the centre or vent of the cyclone. It is really\nthe rainfall in front of the cyclonic system that causes its forward\nmovement, assisted by the rotation of the earth. Each space relieved\nof its moisture forms in its turn the new centre. A coast-line, or an\nanti-cyclonic movement of the air in front of a cyclone, will alter its\ncourse. When one reaches the shores of Europe, it soon spends itself for\nwant of the moisture-laden winds in front to keep up the system.\n\nIn the northern hemisphere the direction of rotation of a cyclone is\nopposite to the movement of the hands of a watch; in the southern\nhemisphere it is in the same direction as the movement of the hands of a\nwatch. This is the effect of the rotation of the earth, as will be clear\nafter a little thought on the matter. In the North Atlantic the forward\nmotion of a cyclone is always from the westward to the eastward; hence\nthe \u201cstorm warnings\u201d which reach us from the United States.\n\n[Illustration: _Diagram of a typical Atlantic cyclone._]\n\nOur islands lie in the most common track of those Atlantic cyclones, and\nthe centre of the whirl often passes over or near the Orkneys. Now if you\nwill look at the chart or diagram of a typical cyclone as given here, and\nsuppose it to be moving slowly from south-east to north-west, or suppose\nyourself to be moving through it in the opposite direction while it\nremains still, you will see how the changes of wind and weather which we\nhave described must result from this movement.\n\nDuring the greater part of the year our weather is mainly due to a\nconstant procession of those Atlantic cyclones, great and small, and\nhence arises the changeableness of our winds and our weather. But in\nthe spring we often have weather of a different type. Our winds are\nthen often cold, sometimes dry, and frequently easterly or northerly\nin direction for several days together. Such weather is due to\nanti-cyclones\u2014that is, areas of high pressure, from which the air flows\ndownwards and spreads outwards in every direction. An anti-cyclone is\nthe opposite of a cyclone in almost every respect. Its supply of dry air\noften comes from the ascending air in the centre of a cyclone, which has\ndeposited its moisture. At the meteorological station on Ben Nevis it\nwas sometimes noticed that when an anti-cyclone was stationed over the\nsouth of England, and a cyclone was crossing the north of Scotland, there\nwas an upper air-current travelling from the latter to the former, and\nno doubt supplying the dry air of the anti-cyclone. This is a type of\nmovement which is usually found over land rather than sea, and it has not\nthe regular forward movement of the cyclone.\n\nThe last point which we may notice about our weather is the amount of\nsunshine which we receive. At every well-equipped observatory, such as\nthat of Deerness, there is an instrument which records the duration of\nsunshine, hour by hour and day by day, all the year round. In the matter\nof sunshine, Orkney is not so badly treated as we may sometimes think.\nThe average number of hours of sunshine each year recorded at Deerness\nis 1,177, while Edinburgh enjoys only 1,166. London is a little better,\nwith 1,260, while Hastings, on the more favoured south coast of England,\nhas an average record of 1,780 hours. Our brightest month is May, with an\naverage of 178 hours of sunshine, and our gloomiest month is naturally\nDecember, with only 20\u00b76 hours.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLACE-NAMES OF ORKNEY.\n\n\nOrkney place-names form an attractive subject of study. There is always\nsome reason why a certain place received its own particular name, though\nthat reason may often be difficult to discover. The use of a name is, of\ncourse, to distinguish one place from other places of a similar class,\nand the most obvious way of doing so is to refer to some special feature\nor peculiarity of the place. In this way arise such names as the Red\nHead, the North Sea, the Muckle Water, and Green Holm. Houses and farms\nand islands are often named after the owner.\n\nWhen people of a different race and language settle in a country, or\nwhen the language changes, as happened in Orkney after its annexation to\nScotland, the old names may still be used, although when their meaning\nis unknown or has been forgotten they are apt to be changed in various\nways. People rarely take the trouble of inventing a new name for a place\nif they can find out the name already given to it. Thus if there had\nbeen any Celtic or Pictish inhabitants left in Orkney when the Norsemen\nsettled there, the Celtic names of the islands and hills and bays would\nhave been handed down from them to us. But all the old place-names in\nOrkney are Norse, and the only Celtic elements found in them refer to the\nsettlements and churches of the Culdees, as we have already mentioned.\n\nThe Norse place-names are usually descriptive, based either on the\nappearance or the situation of the place, or on the name of its occupier.\nSuch names have an interest which is entirely wanting in the modern\nnames given to farms or houses, names which are often selected for\nabsurd or trivial reasons. There is little need for inventing any new\nnames in a land which has been so fully supplied with them already. For\nit is not only the various islands and their most prominent physical\nfeatures that bear descriptive Norse names; hillock and meadow, field\nand spring, rock, geo, and skerry\u2014all have been named by our forefathers\nwith names of which the form as well as the meaning is now in many cases\nforgotten. Those names should be regarded as relics entrusted to our\ncare, and we ought to learn them from the old people by whom they are\nstill remembered, and preserve them from alteration or oblivion, as the\nmaterial relics of our romantic history are now being preserved from\ndestruction and decay.\n\n_Orkney_, the general name of the island group, is partly Celtic and\npartly Norse. Pliny, the Roman geographer, mentions _Cape Orcas_,\nprobably Duncansby Head in Caithness, and calls the islands _Orcades_.\nThe Celtic Scots called them the _Orc Islands_, and southern writers use\nthe form _Orcanig_. The root of the name is supposed to be _orc_, which\nmeant the bottlenose whale. The Norse visitors added the termination\n_-ey_, meaning \u201cisland.\u201d\n\nWhen the Norsemen settled in these islands, they gave to each a name\nin their own language, and these names have been preserved with little\nalteration, though their meaning has generally been forgotten. Some were\nnamed from their configuration or appearance, as Hoy (_Ha-ey_), the high\nisland; Flotta (_Flat-ey_), the flat island; Sanday, the sand island;\nEday, the island of the _eith_ or isthmus; Burray (_Borgar-ey_), the\nislands of the \u201cbrochs.\u201d Some were named from their position, as Westray,\nthe west island; Auskerry, the east skerry. Some were named after\npersons as Rousay, Rolf\u2019s island; Gairsay (_Gareksey_), Garek\u2019s island;\nGraemsay (_Grimsey_), Grim\u2019s island; Copinsay, Kolbein\u2019s island. The name\n_Rinansey_, the island of St. Ninian, often called Ringan, was afterwards\nchanged to Ronaldsay, with \u201cNorth\u201d prefixed to distinguish it from the\noriginal Rognvald\u2019s island, now South Ronaldsay. A few were named from\ntheir uses, as Faray, the sheep island; and Hrossey, the horse island, an\nold name for the Mainland (_Meginland_), or principal island of the group.\n\nIt is very odd to find in books and on maps the Latin name _Pomona_\napplied to this last island\u2014Pomona, the Roman goddess of harvest-plenty,\nwhose name was also used to indicate the fruits of the earth. The\nexplanation seems to be that a mistake was made by George Buchanan,\nthe greatest Latin scholar whom Scotland ever produced, in quoting a\npassage from Solinus, an old Latin writer. Solinus, speaking of some\nisland which he calls Thyl\u00e9 or Thul\u00e9, says that it is five days\u2019 sail\nfrom the Orcades, and that it is large and rich in the constant yield\nof its harvests (_pomona_). Buchanan, who knew much of Latin but little\nof either Thul\u00e9 or the Orcades, takes this to mean that \u201cThul\u00e9 is large\nand Pomona is rich and fertile,\u201d and he concludes from this that Pomona\nmust be the chief island of the Orcades. Thus by a mere blunder the name\n\u201cPomona\u201d was given to the Mainland; but there is no good reason why\nwe should perpetuate this blunder. \u201cMainland\u201d is the name which every\nintelligent Orcadian should use. It is believed by some that the use of\nthe word _pomona_ itself is due to another blunder, the mistake of a\ncopyist, and that what Solinus really wrote was a contracted form of a\nword which simply meant fruit.\n\nOur place-names have suffered much from the blunders of surveyors and\nmap-makers who knew nothing of the Norse language. Whenever they found\na name which bore some resemblance to an English word, they immediately\nchanged it into what they supposed to be its correct English form. A\ngood example of a name thus \u201ccorrected\u201d for us is that of the place now\ncalled \u201cWalls.\u201d The proper name of the district is _Waas_, and this is\nthe name which it should bear on the map. But the intelligent surveyors\nno doubt knew that there is an English word \u201cwalls\u201d which is pronounced\n\u201cwa\u2019s\u201d in Scotland, and so they assumed that the Norse place-name \u201cWaas\u201d\nought to be written and pronounced \u201cWalls.\u201d This is of course an absurd\nerror. \u201cWaas\u201d is a form of \u201cVoes,\u201d a name which is admirably suited to\nthe district, the land of the voes or bays.\n\nThe name of our county town, Kirkwall, has been similarly disguised\nby the well-meaning reforms of ignorant persons. Old people in the\nislands still call it \u201cKirkwaa,\u201d and this is the correct form of the\nname. The Peerie Sea was called the \u201cKirk-voe\u201d long before St. Magnus\nCathedral was built, the name being derived from the old church of St.\nOlaf, whose doorway still exists, and this name, applied to the town,\nnaturally changed into \u201cKirkwaa.\u201d It would probably be impossible now\nto restore the old name; we can only be grateful that our map-makers\ndid not also turn \u201ckirk\u201d into the English form \u201cchurch.\u201d We may suspect\nthat the parish name Holm has been similarly tampered with. The local\npronunciation, which is \u201cHam,\u201d indicates that the name may be derived\nfrom _hafn_, a harbour, as in \u201cHamnavoe\u201d (_Hafnarvagr_) and other cases,\nbut has no connection with _holm_, which means a small island. When the\nmeaning of _hafn_ had been forgotten, and the local pronunciation was\nignored, the name was naturally supposed to be connected with the _holms_\nwhich lie off the shore.\n\nA similar intrusion of the letter _l_ is found in _Pierowall_, and also\nin _Noltland_, in Westray. The latter is sometimes, and more correctly,\nwritten as \u201cNotland.\u201d The Norse name was _Nautaland_, the pasture for\n\u201cnowt\u201d or cattle. The word _Pentland_ must be our last example of such\nblunders. To the Norsemen the Scottish mainland was _Pettland_, the land\nof the Picts; and even at the present day Orcadians, who have not been\nmisled by books and maps, still speak of the \u201cPettland Firth.\u201d\n\nThe names of farms or small districts are often very interesting. A\ncommon termination in these is _-bister_, which represents the Norse\n_bolstadr_, a farmsteading, the first part of the name usually being\nderived from the name of the original owner, as in \u201cGrimbister\u201d and\n\u201cSwanbister,\u201d the farm of Grim and of Sweyn. The word is connected with\n_bol_, a dwelling, which still exists in our local dialect in the form\n\u201cbeul,\u201d meaning a stall in a byre or stable. Two Norse words, _bu_ and\n_b\u00e6r_, meaning a home or a household, give rise respectively to the\ncommon farm name Bu, and to several names ending in _-by_, as Houseby\nand Dounby.\n\nThe termination _-ster_ or _-setter_, which is also very common,\nrepresents the Norse word _setr_; the name _saeter_ is still used in\nNorway for a summer pasture among the hills at some distance from the\nfarm. Several of our farms bear the name of Seatter, and the number of\ncompounds of this word is too large to need illustration.\n\n_Garth_, which meant an enclosure, is akin to the English words _yard_\nand _garden_, and is found in numerous farm names, sometimes alone, but\nmore frequently in compounds, where it appears as the termination _-ger_,\nthe _g_ being sounded hard. Other names for enclosed land were _quoy_\n(_kvi_) and _town_ (_tun_), and in almost every district we find farm\nnames in which these words appear. The Norse _skali_, a hall, appears\nas _skaill_, either alone or as an element in compound names. There\nare other common terminations which might be mentioned, all of them\nsignificant and worthy of study, but these may suffice to illustrate how\nfull of meaning and interest our common place-names really are.\n\nWe have said that the Norse word for \u201cisland\u201d now appears as the\ntermination _-ay_ or _-a_. This termination, however, has in some cases a\ndifferent origin, especially where the name does not refer to an island.\nThus in the names Scapa and Hoxa the _-a_ is a contraction of _eith_,\nmeaning an isthmus. Scapa was _Skalpeith_, the ship-isthmus, and Hoxa was\n_Haugseith_, the isthmus of the haug or howe. In the name of the island\nof Sanday, the termination means \u201cisland;\u201d in the name Sanday applied to\nseveral places round Deer Sound, the reference is to the \u201cSand aith\u201d or\nisthmus already mentioned. In names of places such as Birsay and Swannay,\nwhere a large burn is found, we may conclude that the _-ay_ represents\nthe Norse _-a_, meaning a river, as the _o_ does in Thurso.\n\nAs we should expect from a seafaring race, the Norsemen have left us a\nvery liberal heritage of names for the various natural features of our\nshores. Projecting points of land are called \u201cness\u201d or \u201cmoul\u201d or \u201ctaing,\u201d\naccording to their configuration, and even the less prominent rocks\nare still known as \u201cclett\u201d or \u201cskerry,\u201d or bear other names which were\noriginally simple descriptions of their peculiar forms. In the same way\ndescriptive names were applied to the water features, and every \u201cvoe\u201d and\n\u201csound,\u201d every \u201chope\u201d and \u201cgeo\u201d have names which offer us a fine field\nfor study.\n\nIn dealing with this last class of names, there are two Norse words\nwhich may cause us some trouble\u2014_hella_, a flat rock, and _hellir_, a\ncave, both of which appear in place-names as _hellya_, while a third\nword _helgr_, holy, sometimes assumes the same form. It is impossible to\ndetermine what the original form and meaning of a name have been unless\nwe examine the place as well as its name.\n\nIn studying our place-names, we ought to remember that the correct names\nare those that are used by the old people who live in the district, not\nthose that are found on the map, or are used by people who adopt the\npronunciation suggested by the spelling. By means of the knowledge of a\nfew dozen common Norse roots, and a careful examination of the places\nto which the names belong, most of our old-fashioned place-names may be\nmade to yield up their ancient meanings, and to throw some light upon the\npast condition of the islands. When studied in this way, our place-names\nare seen to be fragments of fossil history, organic remains of an early\nstratum of society, as eloquent of the past as are the geological fossils\nof the early ages of plant and animal life.\n\n[Illustration: _At the quern._]\n\n\n\n\nPart III.\u2014Nature Lore.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE ROCKS.\n\n\n\u201cSermons in Stones.\u201d\n\nA stone quarry is a common enough object in Orkney\u2014so common, indeed,\nthat we may never have taken any interest in it. Yet this common quarry\nis a place where we may learn some strange facts about the making of our\nislands, if we visit it in the spirit of one who\n\n \u201cFinds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,\n Sermons in stones, and good in everything.\u201d\n\nThe quarrymen begin their work by clearing away the \u201credd\u201d from the rock\nbeneath. First they remove the soil. This is dark in colour, not very\nrich or deep, perhaps, and not so black as the more fertile soils of\nother lands. Yet it contains the plant-food which nourishes our crops,\nand thus nourishes ourselves. The particles are fine and loose, and the\nsoil is traversed everywhere by the small rootlets of plants. The dark\ncolour is due to the decayed substance of past crops of plants, which\nlargely consists of carbon. We must try to find out how this soil, which\nis so precious to the farmer, has been formed.\n\nEvery one knows the difference between the appearance of a new house and\nthat of an old one: in the former the stones of the walls are clean and\nsharp, in the latter they have a weathered, time-worn look. In graveyards\nthe headstones recently put up have their inscriptions sharp and clear;\nthe older stones have their surfaces pitted, and the letters carved on\nthem are indistinct. Compare the old carvings and tracery on the outer\nwalls of our cathedral, made hundreds of years ago, with the clean-cut\nmasonry of new buildings which stand near it, and you will see that\nstones decay with time and moulder away; they crumble into dust under the\nwinter\u2019s frost and rains and the heat of the summer sun.\n\nSo it is with all the rocks of which the surface of our islands is made\nup. Year by year they moulder away. The dust or earth into which they\nbreak down forms a soil in which plants take root and grow. The plants\npush their root fibres downwards, helping to open up the cracks in the\nrock; and when these roots die and decay their substance mingles with the\nsoil, giving it that black colour which marks old fertile soils that have\nlong been cultivated.\n\nUnder the soil lies the subsoil\u2014that is, rock which is half decayed and\npartly broken up. In course of time it will become as fine as the soil\nitself; for the subsoil gradually changes into soil. In wet weather the\nrain, and in dry weather the wind, carry away the fine particles of earth\nfrom the surface of the fields, and would sooner or later take away all\nthe fertile soil; but the continual action of the weather on the subsoil\nsupplies fresh material. Hence, while the old soil is constantly being\nremoved, new soil is forming to take its place.\n\nAs we see in the quarry, under the soil and the subsoil there is rock.\nThis is true of all parts of our country; there is a rocky skeleton\nbeneath the thin layer of fertile soil which supports the plants and\nanimals. In the rocky skerries which are common along the shores we see\nthe nature of the rock-built framework of the islands. If the soil and\nsubsoil were swept away, as the waves have swept it from the skerries, it\nwould be plainly seen that the islands are built up of rocks.\n\nAll the rocks of our islands, almost without exception, were laid down\nunder water. They consist of three different substances. One is sand,\nin small rounded white or yellow grains. Another is clay, dark gray in\ncolour, very close grained and soft. The third is lime.\n\nA rock which consists mostly of sand is called sandstone. The Eday\nfreestone, which is much used for putting round the doors and windows\nof shops and large buildings, is a sandstone. The common blue flagstone\ncontains clay mixed with more or less sand. The sandy beds are coarse,\ngritty, and hard; the fine-grained flags contain more clay, and are\ndarker in colour, softer, and smoother on the surface. Nearly all the\nfine flags contain lime; often it is seen in white shining crystals on\nthe joint-faces of the stones used in building. The presence of lime in a\nsoil improves it considerably.\n\nIn different parts of Orkney the rocks differ much in appearance. In one\nplace we find yellow and red sandstone, in another blue and gray flags,\nin another pudding-stone and granite. What is the meaning of this? It\nshows that while the whole area of our islands was covered with water,\ngravel was being laid down at one place, sand or muddy silt at another,\nand so on. We can even make out the order in which the different layers\nor strata were laid down.\n\nIt is done in this way:\u2014Usually the beds of rock are not now flat but\ntilted, and show their edges turned up in a more or less sharp slope. If\nwe walk along any bare rocky shore we shall find that bed succeeds bed,\neach resting on the top of all those which underlie it. No place could be\nfound to show this better than the shore of Hoy Sound from Stromness to\nBreckness. We go on and on, crossing over bed after bed of rock, till we\nhave passed over the edges of a pile of flagstone which must be several\nthousand feet thick. The same thing can be seen to the east of Kirkwall,\nor, in fact, almost anywhere in the islands.\n\nSometimes the beds dip or slant in different directions at different\nparts of the shore. Then again they may be broken by cracks or faults\nwhich bring different kinds of rock up against one another. If one could\nvisit the whole of Orkney and examine all the rocks, making out in what\norder they follow one another, how often they are interrupted or repeated\nby faults, and what is their inclination or dip, one could tell exactly\nthe order in which the rocks of each district were laid down on the\nbottom of the old lake where they were formed. This is one of the tasks\nwhich the geologist undertakes; and though it looks very difficult, yet\nin Orkney it is quite possible to do so with pretty fair accuracy.\n\nWhat is the result? At the bottom of the whole we place the granite of\nStromness and Graemsay. This represents part of the floor of the old lake\non which the gravel and sand and mud were laid down\u2014a part which stood\nup above the water as an island. Next to this we find a thin layer of\npudding-stone. This is formed of the old gravel which gathered on the\nbeaches and shores around the granite island as it was slowly covered\nover. Above that were laid down the flagstones of the West Mainland;\nthen those of Kirkwall, the East Mainland, and the North Isles; then\nthe yellow and red sandstones of Eday, Shapinsay, the Head of Holland,\nDeerness, and South Ronaldsay.\n\n[Illustration: _Cliff showing horizontal strata._]\n\nThe whole series of these rocks must be thousands of feet thick, and how\nlong they took to form we cannot conceive.\n\nThen there is a gap in the series. This means that for a time the lake\nwas dry land and instead of mud and sand being laid down, the rocks which\nhad been formed were partly washed away by rain and streams. After a long\ntime had passed, another lake was formed, and in it were laid down the\nyellow sandstones of Hoy, which are quite different from the other yellow\nsandstones of Orkney.\n\nWhen you think that each thin flagstone or layer of sandstone in our\nquarry was once a sheet of mud and sand, and that it took months, no\ndoubt, or even years, to gather on the lake bottom, you can understand\nhow vast a space of time is represented by the old red sandstone of\nOrkney.\n\n\n\u201cBooks in the Running Brooks.\u201d\n\nLet us now take a stroll along one of the little burns which flow between\ntheir green or heathery banks in any of the valleys of our native\nislands. These little burns are very small in comparison with the mighty\nrivers of the world, yet they are quietly performing a great task, and in\nthe long past ages the amount of work which they have done is far greater\nthan you have ever imagined.\n\nIt is summer, and the burn runs shallow and slow; the pebbles and sand\nshow clearly in the pools. The burn enters a little bay, and as it flows\nacross the shore it breaks up into several streamlets, each working its\nway through the gravel. Brackish water plants grow here; the shore is\nmuddy, and the seaweed is often soiled with fine sediment. The burn has\nbrought this down, and has dropped it where it enters the sea.\n\nWe follow the channel upwards, through flat, rich meadows, which may\nbe tilled, and covered with corn and other crops. In the meadow the\nburn winds to and fro, and in each loop the outer side is steep, often\noverhanging: under the grassy bank the trout lie hid. The inner side of\nthe bend is shallow, slopes gradually down to the water, and is covered\nwith small broken stones and gravelly pebbles. We can see that the\ncurrent is eating away the steep outer bank by undermining it, while on\nthe inner side the small stones are gathering.\n\nThe meadow through which we are passing is flat, and covered with wiry\ngrasses which love wet situations. The stuff of which it is made can be\nseen on the banks of the burn. It is a soft, dark-brown earth, almost\nwithout stones, or with here and there a layer of pebbles. How has this\nmeadow been formed? The stream has done it.\n\nTo find out how the stream made the meadow we must visit it in winter\nafter several days of heavy rain. Then a sheet of water covers the\nmeadow, making it a shallow lake. The water is very still except near the\nchannel of the burn; it is brown and full of mud. For some days the lake\nremains, then the water begins to fall. The stream is clearer now, though\nstill dark with mud; good water this for the trout-fisher. A few days\nmore and the lake has vanished; the stream keeps within its banks, though\nit is still full.\n\nNow look at the meadow. It is covered with a very thin film of\ngrayish-brown mud. In spring the grasses will grow quickly, and will be\ngreener than ever. The meadow is a little\u2014ever so little\u2014higher for the\nnew sheet of mud it has acquired. Winter after winter this goes on. The\nbrown earth which forms the meadow is flood mud. Its flat configuration\nis due to its being laid down in a little temporary lake.\n\nLet us follow the stream still farther, and leave the meadow behind. The\nchannel gets steeper, and the water flows along quite merrily, faster\nthan in the level meadow below. The bends in the burn disappear. It is\nin a hurry here and flows straight; in the flat meadow below it loiters\nand swings lazily to and fro. The channel is shallow, and there are few\npools. The banks are often bare rock, or the stony clay which is produced\nby the weathering of rock. The stream is washing away the clay; it even\nattacks the hard rocks.\n\nTo see how this is done you must come when the burn is swollen with heavy\nrains. Then you will hear it rolling the stones along. They grind on one\nanother, and thus they get their rounded shape, or are broken up into\nsmall fragments. As they are rolled along they wear away the rocks and\ndeepen the bed of the stream. Loose pieces are swept away, soft layers\nare planed down. Many of the cracks and joints are opened and loosened,\nready for fresh attacks during the floods of next winter.\n\nThis is where the gravel comes from. In the lower part of its course the\nstream cannot move large stones, but in floodtime the smaller pebbles\nare carried downwards. The big stones lie in the upper stream; they must\nbe broken smaller before they can be carried away. After rainy weather\nyou will often find that a rapid branch stream has shot a big heap of\npebbles into the main stream. When the floods rise above the surface of\nthe meadow they may strew sheets of little stones here and there over the\ngrass.\n\nAfter a big flood, if you know the stream well, you will find many\nchanges. Here a bank of gravel has been carried away; there a new one has\ngathered. At every bend the bank shows undermining, and pieces have been\nswept away. The fine stuff makes mud: part of this is laid down on the\nmeadow, but much of it is carried right out to sea.\n\nThat running water will wash away sand, gravel, and mud is not new to\nyou. You have often seen it on the roads and in the roadside ditches,\nin the little runnels around the farmhouses, or in the ploughed fields.\nThe burn is always doing the same thing, according to its powers. In\ndry weather it does little, for its current is weak; in floods it works\nrapidly. For perhaps two dozen days in a year every burn is in great\nstrength, and is a powerful agent in changing the form of the land.\nThis leads you to grasp the fact that the stream has dug out its own\nchannel, and that it carries rock material to lower levels, and at last\nto the sea. If you know some of our burns well, and study and watch them\nclosely, you will find a world of interest in them. Every feature of\ntheir channels is due to the work the flowing water is doing, and shows\nthe manner in which it is done.\n\nBut what of the wide valley in which the burn flows? Other agencies have\nbeen at work here besides the water: ice has left its mark on every\npart of our valleys. But the burn has done most. On either side it is\njoined by branches. Each of these is cutting its own channel, and thus\ngradually deepening the valley. Each branch has its lesser branches;\ntogether they cover the whole valley with an intricate system of water\nchannels.\n\nBetween these channels, heather and grass are growing in the stony soil.\nThe soil, as you have learned already, is due to the decay of the rocks.\nFrost and rain begin the work, and the growth of plants hastens and helps\nit. Over the whole of the sloping valley sides the rocks are being broken\nup into finer and finer particles. When heavy rain comes it washes away\nthe smaller particles, and little runnels appear which carry away the\nsurface water.\n\nEvery year a portion of the soil is swept away to the meadows, or to the\nmud sheets which floor the shallow sea below. None of this ever comes\nback; it is sheer loss\u2014a little at a time, but if the time be long enough\nit amounts to a very great quantity. Every day since that burn began to\nflow it has carried downwards a greater or smaller burden of soil.\n\nIt took a long time for people to grasp the fact that running water is\na great earth-shaping agent. Every valley you have ever seen was made\nin this way. Other things helped, but the stream was the main cause. A\nvalley is only a great groove eaten out of the rock. It is not due to any\nearthquake or rending apart of the rocks; it is not an original feature\nof the country. There was a time when there was no valley there; but from\nthe day the stream first began to trickle over the rocks it has gone on\ndeepening its channel and excavating the valley, and it is still doing so.\n\nThe stream not only made the valley; it shaped the hills also. We\nsometimes speak of \u201cthe everlasting hills.\u201d No doubt the hills are very\nold, and will last a long time. Yet the little stream is older and\nmightier than they. It shaped them and brought them into being; in time\nit will remove them and level them with the plain.\n\nLet us climb the side of a hill, and see what we can learn about it\nby patient observation and inference. Any one of our flat-topped,\nround-shouldered Orkney hills will do. They were all formed in the same\nway, and teach the same lessons.\n\n[Illustration: _The Ward Hill, Hoy._]\n\nThe ascent is gentle at first as we leave the plain or the bottom of the\nvalley. Then it gets steeper and steeper. Often it is like a series of\ngreat steps\u2014a sharp rise for a little, then a flat ledge; another sharp\nrise, followed by a gentle slope, and so on. These terraces are formed\nof beds of hard stone, which weather down very slowly. The softer rocks\ncrumble fast, and form the steep slope. All our flagstone hills show\nthese steps or terraces. They prove that the slope of the hillside is\ndetermined largely by the rate at which the different rock beds wear away.\n\nAfter our stiff climb we get near the top. Many of our hills are\nbroad-backed. When we get above the steep part we find a flat top, and\nit is often difficult to say where the actual summit is. In many places\nthere are great groups of hills, all of about the same height, but\nseparated by valleys. The Orphir, Firth, and Harray hills, the Rousay,\nEvie, and Birsay hills, and the hills of Walls are all of this kind. Even\nthe Hoy hills show the same feature, though less clearly. In all these\ncases the hilltops look like the remains of one continuous stretch of\nhigh ground, which has been cut up into pieces by the digging out of the\nvalleys. The hills are the remnants of a plateau.\n\nThis is not a mere supposition, but can be proved quite clearly. In\nmany Orkney hills there are beds of rock which can be identified by\nthe geologist by certain marks. They may contain peculiar fossils, or\nthey may be of a special colour or structure. In Firth and Orphir, for\nexample, there is a band of flagstone which yields roofing slabs. You\ncan follow this band from hill to hill for several miles, often by the\nquarries in which it was extensively worked in former years. It occurs at\nmuch the same level in all the different hills, though sinking somewhat\nto the north according to the dip or slope of the rock bed. It is found\non both sides of the valleys, as, for example, at Finstown, at much the\nsame height.\n\n[Illustration: _The Hills of Orkney. Photographed from a Relief Model\nbased on the Ordnance Survey._]\n\nThe Orkney hills, then, consist of a great pile of beds of flagstone\nwhich once spread unbroken over the whole country. Out of this great mass\nof flagstones and sandstones the running water of the burns has carved\nthe valley systems. The hills are the remnants which the streams have\nnot yet removed. As time goes on the valleys deepen and broaden, and the\nhills get less and less.\n\n \u201cThe hills are shadows, and they flow\n From form to form, and nothing stands.\u201d\n\nIt has taken vast ages to do this work, and the work is still going on.\nIt is very slow. The oldest man hardly notices any visible change in\nthe configuration of the country. But wind, rain, frost, and running\nwater are ever at work. Every day sees some loss, some material swept\naway never to return. What becomes of it? It reaches the sea, and there\nforms mud and sand. Time will change these into solid rock again, and may\nultimately use them in building new continents. The hills crumble into\ndust, but it is \u201cthe dust of continents to be.\u201d\n\n\nCliffs and Beaches.\n\nOn looking at a map of Orkney or Shetland we are struck with the\nirregularity in the shape of the islands and the winding nature of the\ncoast line. There must be some reason for this, and a little reflection\nwill bring it to light. If you look at the larger valleys you will notice\nthat most of them end in salt-water bays, while the hills or ridges\nbetween the valleys run out into points or \u201cnesses.\u201d This is especially\nthe case in Shetland; but in Orkney, too, there are many instances\nof it. The shape of the land extends beneath the water\u2014the deep bay\ncontinues the land valley, the point and the skerry mark the position of\nthe watersheds.\n\nWe have seen that the valleys were eaten out by running streams. At one\ntime the land stood higher, and the burns flowed where now the salt\nwater covers the bottom of the bay. Thus the land was shaped. Then\nthe ground sank a little, and the sea flooded the lower grounds. The\nhilltops remained above water as islands; the valleys and flat grounds\nwere changed into bays and sounds and firths. Think what would happen if\nthe land sank another hundred feet. Many of the present islands would\nbecome shoals, and new islands would be made where the sea flowed round\nthe higher ground, winding out and in among them in narrow sounds and\nstraits, just as it does among the islands of the present day.\n\nLong ago Orkney and Shetland were much larger than they are at present.\nMost of the North Sea was dry land, covered with trees. In several parts\nof Orkney we can see trunks and roots of trees uncovered after heavy\nstorms have shifted the sand on the beach. These trees did not grow\nbeneath the sea, of course; but the land sank, and the salt water covered\nthe site of the old forest.\n\nOur wild animals, such as hares and rabbits, mice, voles, and shrews,\nwere not imported in boats. They were here probably before man arrived,\nand they walked in on their own feet when the sea bottom was still part\nof the dry land of Europe. Those who have studied this question think the\nland is still sinking, or at any rate has not yet begun to rise. If it\nwere rising, we should find gravels and shells and sea-beaches above the\nlevel of the present shores. Such raised beaches are found in many parts\nof Scotland, but not in Orkney or Shetland.\n\nThe shores are always changing, and every part of them bears evidence\nof constant alterations. Where there are high banks or cliffs, you will\noften find that pieces have fallen down; this is especially the case\nwhere the bank consists of clay. Our Orkney rocks are very hard and our\ncliffs very lasting, but in some parts of England there are villages\nand churches now standing on the very edge of the cliffs which a few\ncenturies ago were at a considerable distance from the sea.\n\nIt is the sea that wears away the cliffs by hammering at the rocks;\nduring storms the big stones on exposed beaches are rounded and worn by\nthe billows tossing them about and driving them against the rocks. On the\nwest coasts of our islands the great winter waves have enormous power;\nno breakwater could resist them, and a ship which is driven ashore soon\ngoes to pieces. The cliffs are undermined at their base by the formation\nof caves; the soft parts are eaten out into geos. Frost and rain open the\nseams of the rocks and great masses tumble down; these are then tossed to\nand fro until they are converted into heaps of boulders. The boulders get\nless and less, and become pebbles; last of all they are ground down to\nfine shingle and sand.\n\nEvery kind of rock has its own characteristic type of cliff scenery. When\npieces are detached they separate along natural cracks which are called\n\u201cjoints,\u201d and these joints have a different arrangement in sandstone,\nin granite, in serpentine, and in schist. Weathering then acts on the\nexposed surface, and, if the rock is bedded, some beds are eaten away\nmore rapidly than others. There is much to interest us in our cliffs;\nthere is not a detail in their form which has not a meaning.\n\n[Illustration: _A sandstone cliff._]\n\nOn wild shores where storm-waves are high we find large boulders; the\nsmaller ones are washed away and swept out to sea. Sometimes there is no\nbeach, but the cliff plunges down into deep water, for there the waves\nare so powerful that they clear away all the broken rock. On sheltered\nbeaches we find small rounded pebbles. If we look at the stones on the\nshore of a small fresh-water loch we find them scarcely rounded at all,\nfor the little waves cannot toss them about and rub them against one\nanother.\n\nThe tear and wear of pebbles produces sand, and the sand is driven to and\nfro by currents and by storms. It rests for a time in some of the bays,\nbut is not a fixture. A high wind drives some of it ashore to cover the\ngrass of the sandy links. A heavy storm may drag a great deal of it out\nto sea. Unless it is held fast by bent or other plants, sand is always\nmoving.\n\nEven the stones travel along the shore, driven by the beat of the waves\nin bad weather. There are stone beaches common in Orkney and Shetland\nwhich are often called ayres, and which have behind them a salt lagoon\nor oyce. The oyce opens to the sea at one end of the ayre, and a strong\ntidal current flows out and in through the opening. An ayre is really\nan army of stones on the march, constantly moving forward. In every bay\nthere is one direction from which the biggest waves come, and the stones\nof the ayre have come from that direction. The opening of the oyce is at\nthe other end of the ayre.\n\nAt first there was a bay with a shallow inner end. When the big waves\nreach shallow water they turn over and have their speed checked. Stones\ncarried along the shore are dropped at the edge of the shallow water,\nforming a bar. The bar goes on stretching across the bay as the storms\nfetch more stones, and in time the oyce is nearly walled in. But as the\nopening gets narrower and narrower the tidal flow gets stronger and\nstronger There is a combat between the tidal currents and the storm\ncurrents, and in time things are adjusted so that the speed of the\noutflow is just enough to keep the opening from being closed up.\n\n\nThe Age of Ice.\n\nAlong the burns and the seashores, and in stone quarries, we often see\nbanks of clay. Usually this clay is full of stones. In some places the\nclay is merely the softened, crumbling top of the rock, and the stones in\nit are of the same kind as the solid rock below. In other places the clay\ncontains stones which are quite unlike any rocks in the neighbourhood.\nSometimes these stones are very large, and they must have been carried\nfrom some distant place, for they are of a kind of rock which is not\nfound in the islands. What is the history of this clay with travelled\nstones, or \u201cboulder clay,\u201d as it is called?\n\nBoulder clay may be recognized by several marks. It is tough and sticky;\nit shows no bedding or layers; and it may be only a few inches thick, or\nit may form cliffs thirty or forty feet high. Pick a few stones out of\nit: you will notice that they are not all of the same kind. Wash them\ncarefully in the sea or the burn. Their ends are blunt and worn, but they\nare not rounded like sea-pebbles. Their surfaces are smooth, and are\ncovered with fine scratches, as if some one had drawn a needle or the\npoint of a knife along them. Nowhere except in this clay will you see\nstones with these curious scratches.\n\nIf you find the place where the bottom of the clay rests on the hard\nrock, you should carefully remove a little of the clay and lay bare the\nrock surface beneath. Wash it with a little water, and you will see that\nit is covered with fine scratches exactly like those on the stones. Now\nthis smoothing and scratching of the stones and of the rock might be\nexplained by imagining that the clay at one time was in motion, pushed\nforward by some immense force, and that the stones rubbing on one another\nand on the rocky floor produced these scratches.\n\nAmong the Alps, in Norway, in Greenland, and in other places where there\nare high snow-clad mountains or a very cold climate, the snow gathers\nin the valleys till it forms thick masses, and is compressed by its own\nweight into ice: these masses are known as glaciers. Glaciers are really\nslow-moving rivers of ice; they slip very slowly down the valley slopes,\ntravelling usually only a few inches in a day. When they reach the warmer\nregion at the base of the mountains, they melt away, leaving behind them\nheaps of clay which they have swept down from the hills. The stones in\nthis clay are worn and smoothed and scratched exactly like those in\nthe boulder clays of Orkney and Shetland, and the rocks over which the\nglaciers have moved are smoothed and scratched likewise.\n\nThe boulder clay, then, is clearly a glacial deposit, formed at a time\nwhen our islands were covered with moving sheets of ice. These ice sheets\nwere travelling from the North Sea towards the Atlantic, in a west or\nnorth-west direction, for the scratches on the rock surface always have\nthat trend. We can often prove also that the boulders found in the clay\nhave travelled from the south-east. Thus at the Mont, near Kirkwall,\nthe boulder clay is full of red sandstone from the Head of Holland and\nInganess Bay. In Shetland stones have been carried from the east side of\nthe mainland right over the hills to the west shores.\n\nWhen we piece together all the evidence about this Ice Age or Glacial\nPeriod, not only in Orkney and Shetland but in all the north-west of\nEurope, we learn that it lasted a very long time, and that the North\nSea was filled with a great sheet of ice which must have been several\nthousand feet thick. This ice was pushed out of the basin of the North\nSea westwards into the Atlantic by the pressure of the deep snow-cap\nwhich covered the mountains of central Europe, and on its way it passed\nover Orkney and Shetland. The broken stones and rubbish which gathered\nbelow it formed the boulder clay. This may seem a very strange tale,\nbut every kind of evidence that is needed to prove its truth has been\nfound by those who have studied the boulder clay and the scratched rocks\nbeneath it.\n\nAfter the great ice sheet melted, the climate was still cold, and there\nwere times when snow and ice gathered on our hilltops and little glaciers\nflowed down the valleys. These also have left traces behind by which you\ncan know where they were. In every one of the higher glens in the Orkney\nhills you will find mounds of clay and stones, often forming a crescent\nor bow running from side to side of the valley. They are very well seen\nin Harray, Birsay, Orphir, and Hoy; but even in the East Mainland the\nhills, though low, gave rise to little glaciers. In Shetland they are\nalmost as common as in Orkney. In many parishes there are clusters of\nlarge and small mounds, some of them grassy and others covered with\nheather, lying near the mouths of the main valleys. When these mounds\nhave been cut into by streams or by roads, we see that they are not\nrocky hillocks but consist only of clay and stones, and that the stones\nare often scratched like those in the stiff boulder clay. These mounds\nare the \u201cdumps\u201d or moraines where the glaciers which filled the valleys\nmelted and dropped their rubbish. At that time our islands must have\nresembled Spitzbergen, where to-day most of the hills have an ice-cap and\nnearly all the valleys are filled with glaciers, some of which reach the\nsea and give birth to icebergs, while others melt away and deposit lumpy\nmoraines over the valley bottoms.\n\n\nOrkney Fossils.\n\nYou cannot examine many of our Orkney flagstones carefully without\nfinding fossils. The most common are scales and bones of fishes. In the\nrock these often appear as coal-black specks. When a fossil has weathered\nfor a long time, as in a stone dyke or on the seashore, it often becomes\nbright blue, like a splash of blue paint. Sometimes whole fishes are\nfound in the gray flagstones, with every fin and every scale perfect. Of\ncourse you will not find these every day or every year, but there are\nmany quarries in Orkney where you may get them occasionally. When the\nquarryman uncovers a bed of rock, he often finds it sprinkled over with\ngreat numbers of fossil fishes.\n\nWe can picture to ourselves that, at some time long gone by, when these\nflagstones were being laid down in the old Orcadian lake as sheets of\nsandy and muddy silt, the fishes were suddenly killed by a volcanic\neruption, or by a period of drought, and their dead bodies covered the\nmuddy bottom for miles. Fresh mud then came down and buried them, and\npreserved their remains. In process of time their bones and scales were\nchanged into the pitch-black substance which we now find in the rocks.\nBut we can still see that these specks and scales are really parts of\nfishes. If we examine them under the microscope, we find that they have\nall the marks of structure that the same parts of certain fishes have at\nthe present day.\n\nIn almost every parish in Orkney there is at least one quarry which\ncontains good fossils, and there must be many others which we do not yet\nknow of. But no person who knows what a bit of fossil fish is like need\nsearch very long among the flagstones of the shore without finding a\nscale, a jaw bone, a tooth, or other relic of the fishes which lived in\nOrkney at the time the flagstone muds were gathering. A heap of stones\nthrown down by the roadside, for building a dyke or for mending the\nroads, often contains fragments of dozens of fishes.\n\nIt is not difficult for us to picture what these fishes were like when\nalive. Some of them were about the size of sillocks or herrings, others\nwere as large as a big cod. They had scales all over their bodies, and\nfins, supported by bony rays, just like living fishes. But though many of\nthem were of the same shape and general outline as a trout or a herring,\nthey differed from these in many ways.\n\nTheir scales were often hard and bony, with a smooth, shining outer\nlayer of enamel like that which covers a tooth. Those fishes are called\n_ganoids_. On their heads they had bony plates with the same hard\ncovering, often showing ridges and furrows, knobs, and other markings.\nYou may see these beautifully preserved in many of the fossil bones which\noccur in the gray and blue flagstones. Those fishes belong to species\nwhich are no longer living on the earth\u2019s surface, but closely allied\nkinds of fish are still found in a few rivers in Africa, America, and\nEurope. The royal sturgeon is one of these.\n\nNone of the fishes which are common in our seas at the present day are\never found as fossils in rocks as old as the Orcadian flagstones. The\nwater of the Orcadian lake was fresh water. We know this because we find\nno marine shells, and no crabs or cuttle-fishes in the flagstones, though\nthese kinds of animals peopled the sea at that time, and would have been\npreserved as fossils if they had inhabited the lake.\n\nSome of the fishes in the lake were very grotesque and oddly-shaped\ncreatures. One of them had two curious bony arms or wings which stuck out\nfrom its sides. It is not very common in Orkney, but is sometimes found\nin quarries near Stromness, and a smaller fish of much the same shape may\nbe got in Deerness occasionally. They are called \u201cwinged fishes,\u201d and are\nquite unlike any fishes now living. So strange is this fossil that when\nfirst found it was thought to be a curious beetle.\n\nAnother strange fish was of great size; its head bones are a foot or more\nin length. Pieces of the head of this fish may be seen in many parts of\nOrkney, but the bones of the body were soft and rotted away after the\nfish died. The back of its head was somewhat like a shovel in shape, and\nthe bones are often half an inch in thickness. There were two great holes\nfor the eyes near the corners of this shield. The back of the neck was\nprotected by another large plate. A specimen of this fossil can be seen\nin the Stromness museum; it was called by Hugh Miller the _Asterolepis_,\nor \u201cstar-scale fish,\u201d of Stromness.\n\nBesides the fishes, other fossils occur in the flagstones, but not of\nmany kinds. At Pickaquoy, near Kirkwall, and in several other places,\nvery small shells, like tiny mussel shells, often cover the surface of\nthe beds of rock. Pieces of wood may also be seen in the flagstones; they\nare flattened out and form black strips of a coaly substance, but as\nthey must have drifted a long distance from land, and sunk to the bottom\nonly when they became water-logged, they do not tell us much about the\nnature of the plants which clothed the islands and the shores of the\nlake. Yet we know that there were no flowers then, no grasses, or sedges,\nor trees like those that now live, but only great reeds and tree-like\nplants belonging to the same groups as the horse-tail that grows in\nwatery places and along roadsides, and the little green scaly club moss\nthat creeps through the heather, sending up its fruit-bearing spikes.\nThere were also many kinds of ferns. In the forests and swamps there were\nland-snails and insects, but no frogs or lizards, still less any birds or\nother warm-blooded creatures. The fishes are the highest types that then\nexisted; they were the \u201clords of creation\u201d in that day.\n\n[Illustration: _\u201cWinged fish\u201d (Pterichthys)._]\n\n\n\n\nA PEAT-MOSS.\n\n\nEarl Einar it was, as the story goes, who first taught the Orkneyman to\nmake the turf into peats\u2014Torf Einar, as he was called in memory of this\nfact. If the story is true, he did a great work for the islands,\u2014not\nquite treeless in his day, perhaps, but yet in a bad way for fuel in the\nlong winter evenings,\u2014and he deserves a monument almost as splendid as\nthat of Earl Magnus.\n\nThe wood fires went out long ago, and the peat fires will, no doubt,\nfollow in due time. True, the peat-mosses are not yet exhausted, but year\nby year they recede, and the road to \u201cthe hill\u201d grows longer. There is\nless time to spare now for peat-cutting than there used to be, for our\nmodern methods of farming require more constant labour. But through our\ntrade with other lands money is circulating more freely, and coal can be\nbought to take the place of peat. The change means more money and less\ntime, and that is just the great difference between this century and\nthose which have gone by.\n\nBut the peat-moss is not yet deserted, and in the early summer it is\nstill a busy scene in many places. Harvest has ever been a time of\njoy, and peat-cutting is the harvest of the moss. The flaying-spade and\nthe tuskar are not mere toys, nor is \u201ctaking out\u201d the newly-cut peats\na holiday task; but there are few scenes where more cheerfulness and\nwholesome mirth can be seen than at many an Orkney peat-cutting.\n\nLet us approach one of these familiar \u201cpeat-banks,\u201d not necessarily to\nshare in the fun, and certainly not to take part in the labour, but to\nfind out what we can about the substance which we call peat. Here is a\nbank where the moss is deep enough to give three lengths of peat, one\nabove the other, besides the surface layer, which is cut off and thrown\ndown on the old peat ground.\n\nThis top layer, we see, is, like ordinary turf, full of the roots of\ngrowing plants\u2014heather, rushes, sedges, and grasses of various kinds.\nFilling up the spaces between them is a tangled mass of spongy mosses.\nThese mosses are the most important plants of all in the formation of\npeat.\n\nThe most common of the bog-mosses is the _Sphagnum_, a small branching\nplant with thin, scaly leaves. Where there is plenty of light it is of\na vivid green, and the tops of the sprays look like tiny emerald stars.\nLower, where less light comes, the plant looks yellow and sickly, while\nstill lower it is black and decaying. The black substance which we call\npeat is really a mass of decayed sphagnum moss.\n\nThe upper part of our peat-bank, just below the turf which has been cut\naway, is more loose and fibrous than the under part. The roots of the\nlarger plants may still be seen in it. The second and especially the\nthird peat are much closer in texture and of a deeper black colour. The\nvegetable matter is more completely decayed, and if we were to compress\nit sufficiently it would look very like coal.\n\nAt one part of the face of the bank we notice a layer of a different\nkind. We find the roots and parts of the stems and branches of small\ntrees embedded in the moss. There has been a wood here at one time\u2014how\nlong ago, we cannot tell. That layer of moss which now lies above the\nremains of the trees may have taken centuries to form.\n\nIn many places we find more than one such layer of wood, separated as\nwell as covered by thick layers of moss. Some of the trees have been of\nconsiderable size, too; the trunk of one found in the parish of Stenness\nmeasured about five feet in circumference, while the moss near it was\nthickly studded with the nuts which had fallen from it year after year.\n\nThe trees whose remains have been found in our mosses include the poplar,\npine, mountain ash, birch, hazel, alder, and willow. One very interesting\nfact is that the silver fir is also found, a tree which does not now\ngrow in Scotland, and is not found in Scottish peat-mosses, but which is\ncommon in Norway.\n\nWhat curious tales those peat-mosses tell of the changes of climate\nwhich have passed over our islands! At the present day it is only in our\ndeepest glens, as in Hoy, that we can find even small trees and bushes\ngrowing wild. Yet at one time our islands must have been well wooded,\nthough it is only in the mosses that the remains have been preserved for\nus to see.\n\nThe sphagnum, again, has another story to tell. It requires abundant\nmoisture for its growth, and at present it can find this only in flat and\nboggy ground. It is therefore only in such places that peat is now being\nformed. Yet we find peat on most of our hillsides and even hilltops. This\ntells of a time when our climate was much wetter than it now is, and when\nsphagnum flourished everywhere.\n\nOne more story of a different kind can be read from the peat-moss. Here\nand there, as at Deersound and Widewall Bay, when the tide is out, we may\nfind peat-moss, and the remains of large trees among it, far down on the\nbeach, many feet below the level of high water, and most of it covered to\na considerable depth with the sand and gravel which form the upper beach\nand the land near it. This tells clearly of a gradual sinking of the land\nin the neighbourhood. When that moss was being formed, and when those\ntrees were growing, the shallow bay must have been dry land.\n\nThe plants and flowers which grow on our mosses are worth more than a\npassing glance. Let us look at some of them. The sphagnum we have already\nmentioned; it belongs to the class of flowerless plants. The others we\nshall mention are flowering plants.\n\nBest known of all, perhaps, is what we call heather. This name is used\nfor at least four different plants in Orkney. Two of these bear that\ncommon but beautiful flower the heather-bell. One bears bells of a pale,\nrose-coloured, waxy appearance; the other, which is more common, has\nbells of a darker and often purplish red. The former is the cross-leaved\nheath, with its little green leaves arranged in whorls of four; the\nlatter has its leaves in whorls of three, and is known as the fine-leaved\nheath.\n\nThe most common kind of heather is the ling, which flowers somewhat later\nthan the heaths. It is this plant whose spikes of tiny rose-coloured\nflowers make our hillsides a purple glory in the early autumn, and whose\nleaves and stems give them their familiar brown tint during the rest of\nthe year. A white variety is also found, the \u201cwhite heather\u201d which is\nsupposed to bring good luck to the finder.\n\nAnother kind of heather is that which bears the small black berries so\nwell known to every young Orcadian. This plant is not a heath at all; it\nis really the black crowberry. The berry is preceded by a tiny purplish\nflower, which probably few of the berry-gatherers have ever seen.\n\nThe \u201crashes\u201d or rushes are a common feature of our moors. Two kinds may\nbe noticed, one with its flower-tuft more closely packed together than\nthe other. These rushes were of some use in former days. The white pith\nwas extracted and dried for winter use as wicks in the old oil-burning\n\u201ccrusies,\u201d before the introduction of paraffin.\n\nThere are many smaller plants of a similar type, one of which, the bog\nasphodel, ought to be well known; its pretty, yellow, star-like flowers,\ngrouped on a stalk some eight inches high, often make patches of our\nmoorlands glow with the shimmer of gold.\n\nThe cotton-grass is probably more familiar. There are two kinds found\nin Orkney, one bearing a single tuft of white down on each stem when\nseeding, the other a group or cluster of tufts. This plant is not a\ngrass, and has no connection with the cotton plant; but the name is a\ngood one for all that, and no one can mistake the plant to which it\napplies.\n\n[Illustration: _Plants of the peat-moss._\n\n1. Common ling (_Calluna vulgaris_). 2. Cross-leaved heath (_Erica\ntetralix_). 3. Black crowberry (_Empetrum nigrum_). 4. Cotton grass\n(_Eriophorum polystachion_). 5. Grass of Parnassus (_Parnassia\npalustris_). 6. Bog asphodel (_Narthecium ossifragum_).]\n\nOne of our most beautiful moorland plants is that which bears the\nattractive name, \u201cgrass of Parnassus.\u201d This also is not a grass, and does\nnot in the least resemble one. It is well worth looking for and looking\nat when found. From a group of dark-green, glossy, heart-shaped leaves\nrises a slender stem four or five inches high, with one leaf growing on\nit midway up its height. This stem bears a single cup-shaped flower as\nlarge as a common buttercup, with five white petals marked with darker\nveins. The central parts of the flower are yellowish-green. Round the\nstigma stand the five stamens, and between these and opposite the petals\nare five curiously shaped nectaries or honey vessels. They are fringed\nwith a row of white hairs, each ending in a yellow knob, and look like a\ntiny golden crown placed in the centre of the flower-cup. The name of the\nflower is said to be taken from Mount Parnassus in Greece, the home of\nthe Muses. Certainly the flower itself is dainty enough to be a favourite\nwith the poets.\n\n[Illustration: _Butterwort._]\n\nSome plants have developed the curious habit of eating, or, at any rate,\ndigesting and absorbing the juices of insects. Two of those insectivorous\nplants may be found in our peat-moss. In certain places we may notice\nthat the thick carpet of moss is dotted with little rosettes of bright\nyellowish green, which look like vegetable star-fishes scattered over\na beach of moss. That is one of our \u201cplants of prey.\u201d It is called the\nbutterwort.\n\nFrom the centre of the rosette rises a slender stalk of two or three\ninches, bearing a small dusky purple flower somewhat like a dog-violet.\nThe green leaves which form the rosette are stiff, and lie close to the\nground, as if to keep a clear space among the other plants. They curl\nup at the edges, and look as if they did not want to mingle with their\nkindred round about; and indeed they do not, for they have other game in\nview.\n\nAttracted by this bright green star, a small insect comes in search,\nperhaps, of honey. He finds the leaf covered with a sticky fluid, and his\ntouch causes more of the fluid to come out of little pores in the leaf.\nThe insect is held fast, and the gum clogs up the pores of his body so\nthat he cannot breathe. He soon dies. Then the plant pours out an acid\nliquid, which dissolves all the soft parts of the captured insect, and\nleaves only the skeleton. At the same time this dissolved or digested\nfood is sucked in by the pores of the leaf.\n\nThe acid juice of the butterwort is so like the juice of the animal\nstomach, that in Lapland the people used to pour warm milk over\nbutterwort leaves, and thus changed it into a curd, just as we do by\nadding to the milk some rennet, made from the stomach of a calf.\n\n[Illustration: _Sundew._]\n\nOn this same patch of moor we may find another flesh-eating plant.\nThis is smaller than the last, and less easily found. It has a slender\nflower-stalk with a spike of small whitish flowers rising from the centre\nof a curious group of leaves. The leaves lie flat on the ground; they are\nsmall and round, no larger than split peas, and covered with bright red\nhairs that look like tiny red pins stuck in a tiny green pin cushion.\n\nEach of these hairs carries at its tip a bead of clear fluid, which\nglitters in the sun; hence the plant is called the sundew. Let any\nthirsty insect come to drink this dew, and a strange thing happens.\nHe finds his feet held fast by the sticky dewdrops, and the more he\nstruggles the more of these does he rub against. He is held fast until he\nis suffocated, and then he is digested and absorbed by the leaf.\n\nWhen the fly alights on the plant, the hairs begin to bend in towards the\ncentre of the leaf. Even those hairs which have not been touched bend\nover until all of them are helping to hold fast the prey and dissolve it\nwith their liquid. If the insect alights near the edge of the leaf, he\nis thus carried towards the centre and held fast, while the leaf itself\nbends so as to form a cup for the acid that pours from the hairs. If two\ninsects alight on the same leaf, the hairs form into two groups, those\nnear each animal curving towards him, so that the leaf acts as if it had\ntwo hands. In this way all the insects that come are attended to.\n\nThere are many other curious plants to be found in the peat-moss, but\nthose we have mentioned will suffice to show how much of interest there\nis in our bleak mosses and moors.\n\n\n\n\nSOME COMMON WEEDS.\n\n\nWhat is a weed? We may best describe it, perhaps, as a plant growing in\nthe wrong place. A weed is not necessarily ugly, or harmful, or even\nuseless. Many common weeds are very beautiful, and some of them are very\nuseful; but if they are growing where we wish something else to grow,\nwe call them \u201cweeds,\u201d and root them out, or try to do so. Grass in our\nhayfields and meadows is a valuable plant; grass in our flower-borders or\nturnip-fields is a weed. So when we speak of weeds, we do not mean any\nspecial class of plants, but only those which force themselves upon our\nnotice by springing up where we wish something else to grow.\n\nMany of our common weeds are very interesting plants to the botanist.\nThey have to fight for their lives; and the way in which they scatter\ntheir seeds, and the power of those seeds to lie dormant for years\nwaiting a chance to grow, are well worth study. It is a war between the\nfarmer and wild nature, and when we look over our fields and pastures in\nspring and summer we see clearly enough that the farmer is not always the\nvictor. In many a cornfield the oat crop seems to be merely incidental,\nwhile the hardier children of nature flourish in spite of its intrusion.\n\nThis is not as it ought to be. Even if they are otherwise harmless, the\nweeds use up a large part of the plant food in the soil, and they rob the\nyoung oats of the necessary light and air. In this way weeds prove an\nexpensive crop to the farmer. It pays him to study their life-history so\nas to learn how they may be eradicated, and to spend some labour in the\ntask of doing so.\n\nA common pest in the Orkney cornfields is the \u201cruncho\u201d or \u201crunchic,\u201d\nknown elsewhere by the name of charlock or wild mustard. Its pale-yellow\nflowers overtop the growing oats, and their unwelcome gleam makes some\nfields conspicuous for miles around. The form of the flower shows that\nthe charlock belongs to the same family as the turnip and the cabbage\nand the fragrant wallflower of our gardens. The flower has four petals,\nand the cross-like arrangement of its six stamens, four long and two\nshort, has given them their name of _Crucifer\u00e6_, or cross-bearers. The\nseed-vessels, like those of the turnip, are in the form of a long, narrow\npod with a partition running down the middle. The seeds are small and\nhard, and they grow only in a freshly-stirred soil with plenty of light\nand air. When a field is laid down in grass they make no sign of life,\nbut when it is ploughed for the next crop of oats they spring up once\nmore, and make it as gay as a flower-bed. Two kinds of this plant are\nfound\u2014the one, charlock, of a light yellow colour, common in peaty and\nclayey ground; and the other, wild mustard, of a deeper yellow, found in\nsandy soil.\n\n[Illustration: _Some common weeds._\n\n1. False oat grass. 2. Chickweed. 3. Ragwort. 4. Prunella. 5. Wild\nmustard (_Brassica Sinapis_). 6. Charlock (_Raphanus Raphanistrum_). 7.\nCorn spurrey. 8. Sheep\u2019s sorrel. 9. Common sorrel.]\n\nAnother showy weed is the yellow corn-marigold. This handsome flower\nseems more dainty in its choice of soil, and in some districts it is\nnot common. A glance at the open flower shows its kinship to the \u201cwee,\nmodest, crimson-tipped\u201d daisy. The so-called flower is not one, but a\nhost of tiny flowers or florets growing upon a broad green disc called\nthe receptacle. This compound or composite type of flower is found in a\nlarge number of common plants, named on this account _Composit\u00e6_. Many of\nthem are found in Orkney, and they are a very interesting as well as a\nnumerous family.\n\nOne of the best known is the dandelion, a more beautiful flower than\nmany which we grow in our gardens, and only its abundance prevents our\nadmiring it. If we examine the florets of the dandelion, we see that\neach of them has a corolla forming a long yellow ribbon on the side\nfarthest from the centre of the flower. In the corn-marigold only the\nouter florets have this ribbon, which forms a halo of rays round the\ncentral portion. In the daisy these rays are white, with the tips pink,\nespecially underneath.\n\nA well-known feature of the dandelion is the white down which it produces\nwhen in seed\u2014a wonderfully beautiful arrangement for spreading its seeds\nfar and wide to find room to grow. This is a common method of broadcast\nsowing among the Composit\u00e6 family. The thistles, which form a well-known\nsection of that family, depend largely on their floating seeds in their\nstruggle against the farmer. Some farmers seem to forget this fact, for,\ncrowded in some corner of an old pasture, or in serried ranks by roadside\nand ditchside, we may see those armed foes allowed to blossom and send\nforth thousands of winged seeds to overrun the neighbouring fields,\nand even the neighbouring farms. A few hours\u2019 work with a scythe would\nprevent the mischief. There might well be laws to prevent the careless\nspreading of weeds as there are to prevent the spreading of infectious\ndisease among animals.\n\nOne of the Composit\u00e6 family is a common weed in Orkney pasture fields\u2014the\n\u201ctirsac\u201d or ragwort. This is a coarse, vigorous plant, with a tough\nstalk about two feet in height, crowned with a spreading tuft of yellow\ndaisy-shaped flowers. In fields where this weed is allowed to grow and\nmultiply, it soon comes to occupy a large proportion of the whole area,\nand this means a considerable loss in the grazing value of the pasture.\n\nThe large family of the grasses includes some of the plants most useful\nto the farmer. All the grain crops, such as wheat, barley, and oats, are\ncultivated grasses, as are also the plants which are used for pasture and\nfor hay. There are some wild grasses, however, which are very persistent\nand troublesome weeds. Some of these, like couch grass, spread more by\ncreeping underground stems than by seeds. A common grass in Orkney is\nthat known as \u201cswine-beads,\u201d from the knotted form of its underground\nstems. Its common name is false oat grass. It resembles small black oats,\nbut is much taller. Cartloads of its beaded stems may be gathered from\nsome fields when being prepared for turnips, and by so doing much trouble\nmay be saved.\n\nWhen a field is laid down in turnips or potatoes, the weeds have a hard\nstruggle for life. Those of slow growth are checked by the ploughing and\ngrubbing and harrowing, and later by the hoe and the scuffler. Yet there\nare a few which in a moist season spring up quickly and soon cover the\ndrills. The common spurrey, with its narrow, sticky leaves growing in\nwhorls, and its tiny white flowers which open only in the sun, is perhaps\nthe best known. The chickweed is another common weed in such fields.\nThese, however, if kept down at first by the hoe, are of too feeble\ngrowth to injure the crop among which they strive to find a living.\n\nSheep\u2019s sorrel and common sorrel, both commonly known as \u201csooricks,\u201d were\nmore harmful half a century ago than they are at present. Cultivation and\nthe rotation of crops have reduced their quantity, but their enormous\npower of spreading can be witnessed in a poor, thin, or peaty soil, where\nthe crops, especially grass, are meagre. There they spread, and sometimes\nwith such vigour that they push every other plant aside. Both kinds of\nsorrel are common. The one with arrow-shaped leaves is called common\nsorrel; that with spear-shaped leaves, sheep\u2019s sorrel. Their leaves,\nwhich have a very acid taste, often turn reddish.\n\nAnother common and pretty little flower is prunella or self-heal. Whorls\nof green bracts and violet flowers form a dense, short spike. It grows\nfrom four to six inches high, and is to be met with on dry soils, and\nalthough fairly common in oats, flourishes best in second year\u2019s grass.\nIt is one of the large order of _Labiates_, a group which includes\nthe dead-nettle and the hemp-nettle, and when abundant it is a clear\nindication of the exhaustion of some ingredients of the soil\u2014often\nlime. When fields are brought to a high state of cultivation, or are\nnear enough the seashore to get an abundant supply of sand, it almost\ndisappears; but when they are impoverished, it soon returns.\n\nThese are only a few of the weeds which every farmer knows well. They are\nworth study, for it is only when we know how they grow and spread that we\nare able to prevent their increase. The cultivation and manuring of the\nsoil and the sowing of seeds are only one side of the farmer\u2019s work; he\nhas to remove the wild growth as well as to promote the growth of what he\nsows. Otherwise his fields will bear two crops at a time, one of nature\u2019s\nsowing and one of his own, and of these two the natural crop is likely to\nbe the more flourishing.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOME LIFE ON THE ROCKS.\n\n\nGuillemots.\n\nNothing is more interesting than to look down from the summit of some\nprecipice on to a ledge at no great distance below, which is quite\ncrowded with guillemots. Roughly speaking, the birds form two long rows,\nbut these rows are very irregular in depth and formation, and swell here\nand there into little knots and clusters, besides often merging into or\nbecoming mixed with each other, so that the idea of symmetry conveyed is\nof a very modified kind, and may be sometimes broken down altogether.\nIn the first row a certain number of the birds sit close against and\ndirectly fronting the wall of the precipice, into the angle of which\nwith the ledge they often squeeze themselves. Several will be closely\npressed together, so that the head of one is often resting against the\nneck or shoulder of another, which other will also be making a pillow of\na third, and so on. Others stand here and there behind the seated ones,\neach being, as a rule, close to his or her partner. There is another\nirregular row about the centre of the ledge, and equally here it is to\nbe remarked that the sitting birds have their beaks pointed towards\nthe cliff, whilst the standing ones are turned indifferently. There are\ngenerally several birds on the edge of the parapet, and at intervals one\nwill come pressing to it through the crowd in order to fly down to the\nsea, whilst from time to time others also fly up and alight on it, often\nwith sand-eels in their beaks. On a ledge of perhaps a dozen paces in\nlength there may be from sixty to eighty guillemots, and as often as they\nare counted the number will be found to be approximately the same.\n\n[Illustration: _Guillemot._]\n\nMost of the sitting birds are either incubating or have young ones under\nthem, which, as long as they are little, they seem to treat very much as\nthough they were eggs. Much affection is shown between the paired birds.\nOne that is sitting either on her egg or her young one\u2014for no difference\nin the attitude can be observed\u2014will often be very much cosseted by the\npartner who stands close behind or beside her. With the tip of his long,\npointed beak he, as it were, nibbles the feathers (or, perhaps, scratches\nand tickles the skin between them) of her head, neck, and throat; whilst\nshe, with her eyes half closed, and an expression as of submitting to an\nenjoyment\u2014a \u201cWell, I suppose I must\u201d look\u2014bends her head backwards, or\nscrews it round sideways towards him, occasionally nibbling with her bill\nalso amidst the feathers of his throat, or the thick white plumage of\nhis breast. Presently she stands up, revealing the small, hairy-looking\nchick, whose head has from time to time been visible just peeping out\nfrom under its mother\u2019s wing. Upon this the other bird bends its head\ndown and cossets in the same way\u2014but very gently, and with the extreme\ntip of the bill\u2014the little tender young one. The mother does so too, and\nthen both birds, standing side by side over the chick, pay it divided\nattentions, seeming as though they could not make enough either of their\nchild or of each other. It is a pretty picture, and here is another one.\n\nA bird\u2014we will think her the female, as she performs the most mother-like\npart\u2014has just flown in with a fish\u2014a sand-eel\u2014in her bill. She makes her\nway with it to the partner, who rises and shifts the chick that he has\nbeen brooding over from himself to her. This is done quite invisibly, as\nfar as the chick is concerned, but you can see that it is being done.\n\nThe bird with the fish, to whom the chick has been shifted, now takes it\nin hand. Stooping forward her body, and drooping down her wings, so as\nto make a kind of little tent or awning of them, she sinks her bill with\nthe fish in it towards the rock and then raises it again, and does this\nseveral times before either letting the fish drop or placing it in the\nchick\u2019s bill\u2014for which it is I cannot quite see. It is only now that the\nchick becomes visible, its back turned to the bird standing over it, and\nits bill and throat moving as though swallowing something down. Then the\nbird that has fed it shifts it again to the other, who receives it with\nequal care, and bending down over it, appears\u2014for it is now invisible\u2014to\nhelp or assist it in some way. It would be no wonder if the chick had\nwanted assistance, for the fish was a very big one for so small a thing,\nand it would seem as if he swallowed it bodily. After this the chick\nis again treated as an egg by the bird that has before had charge of\nhim\u2014that is to say, he is sat upon, apparently, just as though he were to\nbe incubated.\n\nOn account of the closeness with which the chick is guarded by the parent\nbirds, and the way in which they both stand over it, it is difficult to\nmake out exactly how it is fed; but I think the fish is either dropped at\nonce on the rock, or dangled a little for it to seize hold of. It is in\nthe bringing up and looking after of the chick that one begins to see the\nmeaning of the sitting guillemots being always turned towards the cliff,\nfor from the moment that the egg is hatched one or other of the parent\nbirds interposes between the chick and the edge of the parapet. Of course\nI cannot say that the rule is universal, but I never saw a guillemot\nincubating with its face turned towards the sea, nor did I ever see a\nchick on the seaward side of the parent bird who was with it.\n\nI observed that the chick\u2014even when, as I judged by its tininess, it had\nonly been quite recently hatched\u2014was as alert and as well able to move\nabout as a young chicken or partridge; but whilst possessing all the\npower, it appeared to have little will to do so. Its lethargy\u2014as shown\nby the way in which, even when a good deal older, it would sit for hours\nwithout moving from under the mother\u2014struck me as excessive; and it would\ncertainly seem that on a bare, narrow ledge, to fall from which would be\ncertain death, chicks of a lethargic disposition would have an advantage\nover others who were fonder of running about.\n\nThe young guillemot is fed with fish which are brought from the sea in\nthe parent\u2019s bill, and not\u2014as in the case of gulls\u2014disgorged for them\nafter having been first swallowed. It is, however, a curious fact that\nthe fish when thus brought in are, sometimes at any rate, headless. The\nreason of this I do not know, but with the aid of glasses I have made\nquite certain of it, and each time it appeared as though the head had\nbeen cleanly cut off. Moreover, on alighting on the ledge the bird always\nhas the fish (a sand-eel, whenever I saw it) held lengthways in the beak,\nwith the tail drooping out to one side of it, and the head part more or\nless within the throat\u2014a position which seems to suggest that it may have\nbeen swallowed or partially swallowed\u2014whereas puffins and razor-bills\ncarry the fish they catch crosswise, with head and tail depending on\neither side.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nI have once or twice thought that I saw a bird which just before had\nno fish in its bill all at once carrying one. But I may well have been\nmistaken; and it does not seem at all likely that the birds should\nusually carry their fish, and thus subject themselves to persecution,\nif they could disgorge it without inconvenience. With regard to the\noccasional absence of the head, perhaps this is sometimes cut off in\ncatching the fish.\n\n\nSeals.\n\nQuite near to where I watch the guillemots there is a little iron-bound\ncreek or cove, walled by precipice, guarded by mighty \u201cstacks,\u201d and\ndivided for some way into two by a long rocky peninsula running out from\nthe shore. On the rocks in one of these alcoves were lying eight seals,\nwhich were afterwards joined by another, making nine, whilst in the\nadjoining one were four\u2014also, as it happened, joined by another, as I\nwatched\u2014making fourteen in all: such a sight as I had never seen before.\n\n[Illustration: _Common seal._]\n\nI watched these seals of mine on this, my first meeting with them, for\na considerable time from the top of the cliffs\u2014the glasses giving me a\nsplendid view\u2014and soon knew more about them than I had done before, and\ngot rid of some popular errors. For instance, I had always imagined that\nseals had one set attitude for lying on the rocks\u2014namely, flat on their\nbellies\u2014a delusion which every picture of them in this connection had\nhelped to foster. Imagine my surprise and delight when it burst upon\nme that only some three or four were in this attitude, and that even\nthese did not retain it for long. No; instead of being in this state of\nuninteresting orthodoxy, they lay in the most delightful free-thinking\nposes, on their sides, showing their fine, portly, columnar bellies in\nvarying degrees and proportions; whilst one utter infidel was right and\nfull upon his broad back, yet looked like the carved image of some old\nCrusader on the lid of his stone sarcophagus. Every now and then they\nwould give themselves a hitch, and bring their heads up, showing their\nfine round foreheads and large mild eyes; a very human\u2014mildly human\u2014and\nextremely intelligent appearance they had, looking down upon them from\nabove. Again, they had the oddest or oddest-appearing actions, especially\nthat of pressing their two hind feet or flippers together, with all their\nfive-webbed toes spread out in a fan, with an energy and in a manner\nwhich suggested the fervent clasping of hands. Then they would scratch\nthemselves with their fore feet lazily and sedately, raising their heads\nthe while, looking extremely happy, having sometimes even a beatific\nexpression. And then again they would curl themselves a little and roll\nmore over, seeming to expatiate and almost lose themselves in large,\nluxurious ease\u2014more variety and expression about them lying thus dozing\nthan one will see in many animals awake and active.\n\nEven in this little time I learnt that they were animals of a finely\ntouched spirit, extremely playful, with a grand sense of humour, and\nfilled \u201cfrom the crown to the toe, top-full\u201d of happiness. Thus one\nthat came swimming up the little quiet bay, in quest of a rock to\nlie upon, seemed to delight in pretending to find first one and then\nanother too steep and difficult to get up on (for obviously they were\nnot), and would fling himself from off them in a sort of little sham\ndisappointment, gambolling and rolling about, twisting himself up with\nseaweed, and generally having a most lively, solitary romp. A piece of\nbleached spar, some four or five feet long, happened\u2014and I am glad that\nit happened\u2014to be floating in the water at quite the other side of the\ncreek and, espying it, this delightful animal swam over to it, and began\nto play with it as a kitten might with a reel of cotton or a ball of\nworsted. More frolicsome, kitten-hearted, and withal intelligent play I\nnever saw. He passed just underneath it, and, coming up on the opposite\nside, rolled over upon it, cuffed it with one fore foot, again with\nthe other, flipped it then with his footy tail as he dived away, and\nreturning, in a fresh burst of rompiness, waltzed round and round with\nit, embracing it, one might almost say. At last, going off, he swam to a\nmuch steeper rock than any he had made-believe to find so difficult, and,\nscrambling up it with uncouth ease, went quietly to sleep in the best\npossible humour.\n\nWhat intelligence all this shows! Much more, I think, than the sporting\nof two animals together. This seal was alone, saw the floating spar at a\ndistance, and swam to it with the evident intention of amusing himself in\nthis manner. Later, another seal played with this same spar in much the\nsame way; yet both of them seemed to be quite full-grown animals.\n\nThen I saw something which looked like a spirit of real humour, as well\nas fun. Three seals were lying on a slab of rock together, and one of\nthem, raising himself half up, began to scratch the one next him with\nhis fore foot. The scratched seal\u2014a lady, I believe\u2014took it in the most\nfunny manner, a sort of serio-comic remonstrance, shown in action and\nexpression: \u201cNow do leave off, really. Come now, do leave me alone\u201d\u2014and\nwhen this had reached a climax the funny fellow left off and lay still\nagain; but as soon as all was quiet, he heaved up and began to scratch\nher again. This he did\u2014and she did the other\u2014three times, at the least,\nand if not to have a little fun with her I can hardly see why.\n\n\nShags.\n\nNow I have found a nest with the bird on it, to see and watch. It was\non a ledge, and just within the mouth of one of those long, narrowing,\nthroat-like caverns into and out of which the sea, with all sorts of\nstrange, sullen noises, licks like a tongue. The bird, who had seen me,\ncontinued for a long time afterwards to crane about its long neck from\nside to side or up and down over the nest, in doing which it had a very\ndemoniac appearance, suggesting some evil being in its dark abode.\n\n[Illustration: _Shag._]\n\nAs it was impossible for me to watch it without my head being visible\nover the edge of the rock I was on, I collected a number of loose flat\nstones that lay on the turf above, and, at the cost of a good deal of\ntime and labour, made a kind of wall or sconce with loopholes in it,\nthrough which I could look and yet be invisible. Presently the bird\u2019s\nmate came flying into the cavern, and wheeling up as it entered, alighted\non a sloping slab of the rock just opposite to the nest. For a little\nboth birds uttered low, deep, croaking notes in weird unison with the\nsurroundings and the sad sea-dirges, after which they were silent for a\nconsiderable time, the one standing and the other sitting on the nest\n_vis-\u00e0-vis_ to each other. At length the former, which I have no doubt\nwas the male, hopped across the slight space dividing them on to the\nnest, which was a huge mass of seaweed. There were now some more deep\nsounds, and then, bending over the female bird, the male caressed her by\npassing the hooked tip of his bill through the feathers of her head and\nneck, which she held low down the better to permit of this. The whole\nscene was a striking picture of affection between those dark, wild birds\nin their lonely wave-made home.\n\nThe male bird now flies out to sea again, and after a time returns\ncarrying a long piece of brown seaweed in his bill. This he delivers to\nthe female, who takes it from him and deposits it on the heap, as she\nsits. Meanwhile the male flies off again, and again returns with more\nseaweed, which he delivers as before; and this he does eight times in the\nspace of one hour and forty minutes, diving each time for the seaweed\nwith the true cormorant leap. Sometimes the sitting bird, when she takes\nthe seaweed from her mate, merely lets it drop on the heap, but at\nothers she places and manipulates it with some care. All takes place in\nsilence for the most part, but on some of the visits the heads are thrown\nup, and there are sounds\u2014hoarse and deeply guttural\u2014as of gratulation\nbetween the two.\n\nThe nest of the shag is continually added to by the male, not only while\nthe eggs are in process of incubation, but after they are hatched, and\nwhen the young are being brought up. In a sense, therefore, it may be\nsaid to be never finished, though for all practical purposes it is so\nbefore the female bird begins to sit. That up to this period the female\nas well as the male bird takes part in the building of the nest I cannot\nbut think, but from the time of my arrival on the island I never saw the\ntwo either diving for or carrying seaweed together. Once I saw a pair of\nbirds together high up on the cliffs, where some tufts of grass grew in\nthe niches. One of these birds only pulled out some of the grass, and\nflew away with it, accompanied by the other.\n\nIt is not only seaweed that is used by these birds in the construction\nof the nest. In many that I saw grass alone was visible, though I have\nno doubt seaweed was underneath it; and one in particular had quite\nan ornamental appearance, from being covered all over with some land\nplant having a number of small blue flowers; and this I have observed\nin other nests, though not to the same extent. I think it was on this\nsame nest that I noticed the picked and partially bleached skeleton\u2014with\nthe head and wings still feathered\u2014of a puffin. It had, to be sure, a\nsorry appearance to the human\u2014at least to the civilized human\u2014eye, but\nif it had not been brought there for the sake of ornament, I can think\nof no other reason; and brought there or at least placed upon the nest\nby the bird it must almost certainly have been. The brilliant beak and\nsaliently-marked head of the puffin must be here remembered. Again,\nfair-sized pieces of wood or spar, cast up by the sea and whitened by\nit, are often to be seen stuck amongst the seaweed, and on one occasion\nI saw a bird fly with one of these to its nest and place it upon it. In\nall this, as it seems to me, the beginnings of a tendency to ornament the\nnest are clearly exhibited.\n\nBoth the sexes share in the duty and pleasure of incubation, and (as in\nsome other species) to see them relieve each other on the nest is to see\none of the prettiest things in bird life. The bird that you have been\nwatching has sat patiently the whole morning, and once or twice, as it\nrose in the nest and shifted itself round into another position on the\neggs, you have seen the gleam of them as they lay there \u201cas white as\nocean foam in the moon.\u201d At last, when it is well on in the afternoon,\nthe partner bird flies up and stands for some minutes preening itself;\nwhile the one on the nest, who is turned away, throws back the head\ntowards it, and opens and shuts the bill somewhat widely, as in greeting,\nseveral times. The new-comer then jumps and waddles to the farther side\nof the nest, so as to front the sitting bird, and sinking down against it\nwith a manner and action full both of affection and a sense of duty, this\none is half pushed, half persuaded to leave, finally doing so with the\naccustomed grotesque hop. It has all been done nearly in silence, only\na few low, guttural notes having passed between the birds whilst they\nwere close together. Just in the same way the birds relieve each other\nafter the eggs have been hatched, and when the young are being fed and\nattended to.\n\nA shag is sitting on her nest with the young ones, whilst the male stands\non a higher ledge of the rock a yard or so away. He now jumps down and\nstands for a moment with head somewhat erected and beak slightly open.\nThen he makes the great pompous hop which I have described before, coming\ndown right in front of the female, who raises her head towards him, and\nopens and closes the mandibles several times in the approved manner. The\ntwo birds then nibble, as it were, the feathers of each other\u2019s necks\nwith the ends of their bills, and the male takes up a little of the grass\nof the nest, seeming to toy with it. He then very softly and persuadingly\npushes himself against the sitting bird, seeming to say, \u201cIt\u2019s my turn\nnow,\u201d and thus gets her to rise, when both stand together on the nest\nover the little ones. The male then again takes up a little of the grass\nof the nest, which he passes towards the female, who also takes it,\nand they toy with it a little together before allowing it to drop. The\ninsinuating process now continues, the male in the softest and gentlest\nmanner pushing the female away, and then sinking down into her place,\nwhere he now sits, whilst she stands beside him on the ledge. As soon as\nthe relieving bird has settled itself amidst the young, and whilst the\nother one is still there\u2014not yet having flown off to sea\u2014it begins to\nfeed them. Their heads\u2014very small, and with beaks not seeming to be much\nlonger in proportion to their size than those of young ducks\u2014are seen\nmoving feebly about, pointing upwards, but with very little precision.\nVery gently, and seeming to seize the right opportunity, the parent\nbird takes first one head and then another in the basal part, or gape,\nof his mandibles, turning his own head on one side in order to do so,\nso that the rest of the long bill projects sideways beyond the chick\u2019s\nhead without touching it. In this connection, and while the chick\u2019s head\nis quite visible, little, if any, more than the beak being within the\ngape of the parent bird, the latter bends the head down and makes that\nparticular action as of straining so as to bring something up which one\nis familiar with in pigeons. This process is gone through several times\nbefore the bird standing on the ledge flies away, to return again in a\nquarter of an hour with a piece of seaweed, which is laid on the nest.\n\nAs the chicks become older they thrust the head and bill farther and\nfarther down the throat of the parent bird, and at last to an astonishing\nextent. Always, however, it appeared to me that the parent bird brought\nup the food into the chicks\u2019 bills in some state of preparation, and\nwas not a mere passive bag from which the latter pulled fish in a\nwhole state. There were several nests all in unobstructed view, and so\nexcellent were my glasses that, practically, I saw the whole process as\nthough it had been taking place on a table in front of me. The chicks, on\nwithdrawing their heads from the parental throat, would often slightly\nopen and close the mandibles as though still tasting something, in a\nmanner which one may describe as smacking the bill; but on no occasion\ndid I observe anything projecting from the bill when this was withdrawn,\nas one would expect sometimes to be the case if unmodified fish were\npulled up. Always, too, the actions of the parent bird suggested that\nparticular process which is known as regurgitation, and which may be\nobserved with pigeons, and also with the night-jar.\n\nYoung shags are at first naked and black, also blind, as I was able to\ndetect through the glasses. Afterwards the body becomes covered with a\ndusky gray down, and then every day they struggle more and more into\nthe likeness of their parents. They soon begin to imitate the grown-up\npostures, and it is a pretty thing to see mother and young one sitting\ntogether with their heads held stately upright, or the little woolly\nchick standing up in the nest and hanging out its thin little featherless\nwings, just as mother is doing, or just as it has seen her do. At other\ntimes the chicks lie sprawling together either flat or on their sides.\nThey are good tempered and playful, seize hold playfully of each other\u2019s\nbills, and will often bite or play with the feathers of their parent\u2019s\ntail. In fact, they are a good deal like puppies, and the heart goes out\nboth to them and to their loving, careful, assiduous mother and father.\n\nWhen both birds are at home, the one that stands on the rock, by or\nnear the nest, is ready to guard it from all intrusion. Should another\nbird fly on to the rock and alight, in his opinion, too near it, he\nimmediately advances towards him, shaking his wings, and uttering a low\ngrunting note which is full of intention. Finding itself in a false\nposition, the intruding bird flies off; but it sometimes happens that\nwhen two nests are not far apart, the sentinels belonging to each are\nin too close a proximity and begin to cast jealous glances upon one\nanother. In such a case neither bird can retreat without some loss of\ndignity, and, as a result, there is a fight.\n\nI have witnessed a drama of this nature. The two locked their beaks\ntogether, and the one which seemed to be the stronger endeavoured with\nall his might to pull the other towards him, which the weaker bird, on\nhis part, resisted as desperately, using his wings both as opposing props\nand to push back with. This lasted for some while, but the pulling bird\nwas unable to drag the other up the steeply-sloping rock, and finally\nlost his hold. Instead of trying to regain it, he turned and shuffled\nexcitedly to the nest; and when he reached it, the bird sitting there\nstretched out her neck towards him, and opened and shut her beak several\ntimes in quick succession. It was as if he had said to her, \u201cI hope you\nobserved my prowess. Was it well done?\u201d and she had replied, \u201cI should\nthink I did observe it. It was indeed well done.\u201d On the worsted bird\u2019s\nascending the rock to get to his nest, the victorious one ran, or rather\nwaddled, at him, putting him to a short flight up it. This bird was also\ncordially received by his own partner, who threw up her head and opened\nher bill at him in the same way, as though sympathizing, and saying,\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind him; he\u2019s rude.\u201d In such affairs, either bird is safe as soon\nas he gets within close distance of his own nest; for it would be against\nall precedent, and something monstrous, that he should be followed beyond\na charmed line drawn around it.\n\n EDMUND SELOUS. (_From \u201cBird Watching\u201d and \u201cThe Bird-Watcher\n in the Shetlands.\u201d J. M. Dent and Co. By permission._)\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIRDS OF SULE SKERRY.\n\n\nSule Skerry is a tiny, barren, surf-bleached islet, lying far out in the\nopen ocean, thirty-two miles west from Hoy Head, about the same distance\nfrom Cape Wrath, and thirty miles from the nearest land, Farrid Head,\nin Sutherlandshire. The Skerry, roughly rhomboidal in outline, is about\nhalf a mile in length and a quarter of a mile in its greatest width, and\nattains a height of only forty-five feet in its central part. All round\nthe shore is a belt of bare, jagged rock, where the wash of the great\nAtlantic waves prevents any vegetation from finding a foothold, and of\nthe thirty-five acres or so which form the entire area of the island only\nsome twelve are covered with a mossy, vegetable soil.\n\nLying, as it does, right in the track of trading vessels, this low\nislet, together with the Stack, which rises to a height of more than a\nhundred feet some four and a half miles to the south-westward, formed\na death-trap to many a ship, which was, no doubt, afterwards merely\nreported as \u201cmissing,\u201d and its shores when visited were rarely found\nwithout some stranded wreckage to tell of the unrecorded tragedies of\nthe winter seas. It was not till the year 1892 that steps were taken to\nmark this dangerous rock, but three years later saw the completion of\nSule Skerry Lighthouse, a massive tower of a hundred feet in height, with\na powerful light visible for a distance of eighteen miles.\n\nSule Skerry is no longer either a dangerous or a lonely islet when\ncompared with its former state. The three lightkeepers who are always\non duty, together with their goats, poultry, and rabbits, give quite\nan inhabited air to the place\u2014probably too much so for the comfort of\nthe original occupants, the flocks of birds which find on it either\na permanent home or a temporary dwelling-place. Sule Skerry is an\nideal place for observation of the birds which frequent our islands,\nboth from the immense numbers of them which nest there, and from the\nabsence of high cliffs or inaccessible rocks. Luckily for us, one of the\nlightkeepers formerly on this station, Mr. Tomison, a native of Orkney,\nwas a man unusually well qualified for such observation, and he has\nrecorded much that is of interest regarding the bird life of the Skerry.\nFrom one of his papers on this subject we quote the following interesting\npages.\n\n[Illustration: _Sule Skerry Lighthouse._]\n\n\nThe Residenters.\n\nThe birds of Sule Skerry may be divided into three classes\u2014the\nresidenters, the regular visitors, and the occasional visitors. The class\nof residenters is represented by the great black-backed gull, the herring\ngull, the shag or green cormorant, and the meadow pipit.\n\n[Illustration: _Great black-backed gull._]\n\nThe great black-backed gull is one of the handsomest birds of the gull\nfamily, but owing to its destructive propensities amongst small birds,\nrabbits, and occasionally young lambs, a continual warfare has been\nwaged against it for years by farmers and gamekeepers, until now it is\nalmost entirely banished to the outlying parts of the country. Before\nthe lighthouse was erected on Sule Skerry, large numbers of this species\nfrequented the island; but the lightkeepers found them such arrant\nthieves that they reduced their numbers considerably. There are still\nabout twenty pairs resident on the island all the year round, and they\nseem to find plenty of food either on land or at sea. Their breeding-time\nis in May, and sometimes as late as June. When the young are hatched the\nparents are continually on the lookout for food, and I have often seen\nthem swoop down and seize young rabbits. Frequently they make desperate\nefforts to capture the old rabbits, but never successfully. They lay\nthree eggs in a nest composed of withered grass, and the process of\nincubation lasts about four weeks.\n\n[Illustration: _Herring gull._]\n\nA small colony of herring gulls stays on the island all the year round,\nbut in summer vast flocks of them are in evidence when the herrings are\non the coast. Only the residents remain to breed, and about a dozen\npairs annually rear their young and spend their whole time in the\nvicinity. Some of the young must emigrate to a more genial climate, for\nalthough rarely disturbed their numbers are not increasing. They lay\nthree eggs early in May, and sit about four weeks. When hatched, the\nyoung immediately leave the nest, and are so like the surrounding rocks\nin colour that when they lie close it is almost impossible to discover\nthem. When hunting for food for their offspring, these gulls are almost\nas great a pest as their cousins, the great black-backed, and are more\naudacious thieves.\n\nThe most numerous of the residenters are the scarfs. In summer and winter\nthey are always on the island, and apparently there is an abundant supply\nof suitable food in the vicinity, for they never go far away. During\nwinter they congregate on the rocks in large flocks or colonies, and they\nhave become so accustomed to man\u2019s presence that they fly only when one\napproaches within a few yards of them. In very stormy weather they seek\nrefuge in some sheltered spot, far enough away from the coast-line to\nbe safe from the encroaching waves, and only when frightened by any one\napproaching too near do they choose what is, in their opinion, the lesser\nof two evils, and seek safety in flight. With the advent of spring they,\nlike all other birds, turn their thoughts to love. Their comparatively\nhomely winter dress gradually changes to one more appropriate to this\nsentiment and more in harmony with the imposing surroundings. Early in\nthe year their plumage assumes a greener tint, and the graceful tuft\nor crest on the top of the head becomes more and more prominent. This\ncrest practically disappears about the end of June, and seems to be a\ndecoration in both sexes only during the nuptial season. Usually they\nmanage to get through with their love-making and selecting of partners\nby the middle of March, after which the operations of nest-building are\nundertaken.\n\nIn Orkney we associate a scarf\u2019s nest with some almost inaccessible\ncliff, but such is not the case on Sule Skerry, for the simple reason\nthat there are no cliffs. The nests are built all over the island, but\nprincipally near the coast-line; and the sociableness of the bird\u2019s\ndisposition shows itself in this fact, that they tend to crowd their\nnests together in certain selected spots, to which they return year after\nyear. One place in particular, a patch of rough, rocky ground from forty\nto fifty yards square, I have named the scarf colony on account of its\nnumerous population during the breeding season. Here in 1898 I counted\nfifty-six nests.\n\nAs to the materials used for nest-building, these are principally seaweed\nand grass, but the scarf is not very particular as to details, and uses\nanything that will suit the purpose. I have found pieces of ordinary\nrope, even wire rope, and small pieces of wood used, and a very common\nfoundation is the skeleton of a rabbit which has died during the winter.\nDuring building operations I have observed that one bird builds and the\nother brings the materials. After all has been completed, three, four,\nand sometimes five eggs are laid. Three is the most common number; five\nis rare. During incubation the one bird relieves the other periodically.\nIt is a common sight to see one come in from the sea, sit down at the\nedge of the nest, and hold a long palaver with its mate. The sitting bird\nthen gets up and flies out to sea, the other taking its place.\n\nWhen the young come out of the egg they are entirely naked, of a dark\nsooty colour, and particularly ugly. Towards the end of the first week of\ntheir existence a coating of down begins to grow, followed by feathers in\nabout three weeks. As near as I can judge from observation, the bird is\nfully fledged in five weeks from the time of hatching.\n\n[Illustration: _Meadow-pipit._]\n\nThe only other residenter is the meadow-pipit, tit-lark, or moss-cheeper.\nIt is the only small bird that remains on the island all the year round.\nIt nests generally in May, and lays five or six eggs. It is said that\ntwo broods are raised in the season, but I have never noticed that here.\nTowards the end of summer they are to be seen in considerable numbers,\nbut in September and October the island is visited by kestrels, who soon\nthin them down.\n\n\nThe Regular Visitors.\n\nThe regular visitors are puffin, razor-bill, common guillemot, black\nguillemot, oyster-catcher, tern, eider duck, kittiwake, stormy petrel,\ncurlew, snipe, turnstone, and sandpiper. In this list I have advisedly\nplaced first the puffin, or tammynorie, or bottlenose, or coulterneb,\nor pope, or sea-parrot, for it is a well-known and well-named bird. In\npoint of interest it undoubtedly takes the first place among all our\nfeathered friends. Its remarkable appearance, its activity, its assertive\ndisposition, and the regularity of its habits, compel the attention of\nthe most careless observer.\n\n[Illustration: _Puffin._]\n\nAt one time puffins were much in demand for food. An old history of the\nScilly Islands tells us that in 1345 the rent of these islands was three\nhundred puffins. In 1848, on account of the bird having got scarcer, and\nconsequently more valuable, the rent was fifty puffins. We are also led\nto understand that the young birds, being plump and tender, were more\nhighly esteemed than their more elderly and tougher relatives.\n\nThe most remarkable feature of this curious bird is its beak, the\npeculiarities of which are its enormous size compared with the size of\nthe body, and its brilliant colours\u2014blue, yellow, and red. For a long\ntime it was a puzzle that occasional dead specimens found washed ashore\nin winter had a beak very much smaller and destitute of bright colours.\nIt has now been ascertained that the outer sheath is moulted annually,\nbeing shed on the approach of winter and replaced at the return of the\nbreeding season.\n\nTo give any idea of their numbers on Sule Skerry is an almost impossible\ntask, for when they are on the island they are hardly ever at rest. The\nair is black with them, the ground is covered with them, every hole is\ntenanted by them, the sea is covered with them. They are here, there, and\neverywhere.\n\nThey first make their appearance early in April, and spend from eight to\ntwelve days at sea before landing, coming close in round the island in\nthe forenoon and disappearing at night. Before landing they fly in clouds\nround the place, and after having made a survey to see that all is right,\nthey begin to drop in hundreds, till in half an hour every stone and rock\nis covered. They do not waste time, but start at once to clear out old\nholes and make new ones, and for burrowing they can easily put a rabbit\nin the shade. Those who are not engaged in digging improve the shining\nhour by fighting, and for pluck and determination they are hard to beat.\nThey are so intent on their work that I have often seized the combatants,\nand even then they were unwilling to let go their hold of each other; but\nwhen they do, it is advisable for the person interfering to let go also,\nif he would avoid a rather unpleasant handshake.\n\nAfter spending a few hours on the island they all disappear, and do not\nusually land again for two days; but when they do come back the second\ntime there is no ceremony about their landing. They come in straggling\nflocks from all points of the compass, and resume their digging and\nfighting. They continue in this manner, never remaining ashore all\nnight till the first week of May. They spend very little time on the\nconstruction of their nests, which consist merely of a few straws. The\ngreater number burrow in the dry, peaty soil, and their holes will\naverage at least three feet underground; but there are also an immense\nnumber that lay amongst loose rocks and stones on the north side of the\nisland. The eggs laid there are always clean and white until the young\nbird is hatched; but those laid underground in a day or two become\nas brown as the soil, and seem more like a lump of peat than an egg.\nDuring the time of incubation, which lasts a month, those not engaged in\nhatching spend their time in fishing and resting on the rocks, and as a\npastime indulge in friendly sparring matches.\n\nOne easily knows when the young are hatched by seeing the old birds\ncoming in from sea with herring fry or small sand-eels, which are carried\ntransversely in their bills, from six to ten at a time. The sole work of\nthe parent birds for the next three or four weeks is fishing and carrying\nhome their takes to the young. Very little time is given to nursing.\nThey remain in the hole just long enough to get rid of their burden,\nand then go to sea again. As the young ones grow, the size of the fish\nbrought home increases. At first it is small sand-eels from one and a\nhalf to two inches long, but at the end of a fortnight small herrings and\nmoderate-sized sand-eels are the usual feeding. I noticed an old bird fly\ninto a hole one day with a bigger fish than usual, and, to see what it\nwas, I put in my hand and pulled out both birds. The tail of the fish was\njust disappearing down the young one\u2019s throat, but I made him disgorge\nhis prey, and found it to be a sand-eel eight inches long. How that small\nbird could find room for such a dinner was really wonderful.\n\nAt first the young are covered with a thick coating of down, and probably\ntheir appearance at this stage has given rise to the name \u201cpuffin,\u201d\nmeaning a \u201clittle puff.\u201d In a fortnight the white feathers on the breast\nbegin to show, and the birds are fully fledged in four weeks, when they\nat once take to the water. As soon as they go afloat, young and old leave\nthe place, and about the middle of July one can easily see that their\nnumbers are decreasing, the end of August usually seeing the last of them.\n\n[Illustration: _Razor-bill._]\n\nThere is a considerable colony of razor-bills on the island. Their time\nof arrival is about the same as that of the puffin, but they make no\ncommotion when they come. They seem to slip ashore, and always keep near\nthe coast-line, ready to fly to sea when any one approaches. They begin\nlaying towards the end of May, and lay one egg on the bare rock, usually\nunder a stone, but in some cases on an exposed ledge. During incubation\none bird relieves the other, for if the egg were left exposed and\nunprotected the black-backed gull would very soon appropriate it. Some\nauthorities say that the male bird brings food to its mate; but I have\nnever observed this, though I have watched carefully to see if such were\nthe case The young remain in the nest, or, to speak more correctly, on\nthe rock, for about two weeks if not disturbed, and I have seen a young\none remain ashore until covered with feathers, which would mean about\nfour weeks from the time of hatching. They all, young and old, leave\nearly in August. I am sorry to say they are becoming scarcer every year,\nchiefly on account of their shyness and fear of man.\n\nThe common guillemots are scarce. Their great haunt in this vicinity is\nthe Stack. There they are to be seen in myriads on the perpendicular side\nof the rock facing the west. Only two or three pairs take up their abode\non the island; in fact their numbers scarcely entitle them to be called\nSule Skerry birds. The few young ones I have seen are carried to the\nwater as soon as they are hatched\u2014at least they disappear the same day.\n\nBlack guillemots or tysties are plentiful. Their time of arrival is about\nthe middle of March, but they are rarely seen ashore before the end of\nApril. Their nests are to be found in out-of-the-way crevices or under\nstones, and are not easily discovered on account of the extraordinary\nwatchfulness of the birds and their care not to be caught on or near\ntheir nests. They lay two eggs, and the young are fully feathered before\ngoing afloat. They remain about the island till the end of September.\n\n[Illustration: _Oyster-catcher._]\n\nThe first of all the visitors to arrive are the oyster-catchers. They\nfirst put in an appearance about the end of February, when their\nwell-known cry denotes that the long, dreary winter is over. They spend\ntheir time till the end of March chiefly feeding along the coast-line;\nbut after that time they pair, and are seen all over the island. About\nthe end of May they lay three eggs in a nest composed of a few small\nstones; and when the young are hatched the noise of the old birds is\nperfectly deafening on the approach of an intruder, and even when no one\nis annoying them the clamour they make almost amounts to a nuisance.\nOn calm, quiet nights it is hardly possible to sleep for them, and one\nfeels inclined to get out of bed and shoot them down wholesale. The young\nleave the nest as soon as hatched, and are rarely seen, for on hearing\nthe warning cry of the parent bird they at once hide among the long\ngrass or under stones, and on one occasion I found a pair some distance\nunderground in a rabbit\u2019s hole. They all leave the island during the\nfirst half of September.\n\nNext to the puffins in numbers are the terns\u2014the Arctic terns. They are\nalso like the puffins in the regularity of their arrival at the island.\nWhen first seen they are flying high up, and they continue doing so for a\nday or two, only resting at night. There are several varieties of terns\nscattered all over the British Isles, but in the north the most numerous\nare the Arctic and the common tern. The latter rarely visits the island.\n\n[Illustration: _Arctic tern._]\n\nThere are certain localities where the terns take up their abode, and\nthey stick closely to the same ground year after year, never by any\nchance making a nest twenty yards outside their usual breeding ground.\nThey begin to lay in the first week of June, but I have found eggs on\nthe last day of May. They lay two eggs, and sometimes three. When the\nyoung are hatched the parents are kept busy supplying them with food,\nwhich consists chiefly of sand-eels and herring fry. Their method of\nfishing is to hover over the water, not unlike the way a hawk hovers\nwhen watching its prey, and when they see a fish to make a dart on it,\nrarely if ever failing to make a haul. They also prey on worms when\nit is too stormy for fishing at sea. On a wet evening, when the worms\nare having an outing, the terns are to be seen in hundreds all over\nthe island, hovering about six feet above the ground, every now and\nagain making a dart down, and, when successful, flying home with their\ncatch to the young. No time is lost, for the old bird seldom alights\nwhen handing over the worm. It swoops down to where the young ones are\nstanding with outstretched necks and bills gaping, screaming out to let\ntheir whereabouts be known, and then flies off again for more. When the\nyoung are able to fly they accompany their parents over the island, and\noccasionally do a little hunting on their own account.\n\nAbout the first of August the young are fully fledged. Young and old then\nassemble from all parts of the island to a piece of bare rocky ground on\nthe north-east corner, which they make their headquarters for about ten\ndays, flying out to sea for food, but always returning at night. About\nthe fifteenth of August they all disappear, and are seen no more till the\nfollowing May.\n\n[Illustration: _Stormy petrel._]\n\nThe island is the headquarters of a large colony of stormy petrels. It\nis not an easy matter to fix the exact date of their arrival, for they\nare never seen during the day, and only come out of their holes at night.\nThey are first seen in the latter end of June, when on a fine clear night\none can see them flitting about close to the ground, very like swallows\nin their movements. They begin to lay in July, and their nests are to be\nfound under stones and in rabbits\u2019 holes. Almost the only way to find\nthem is to listen for their peculiar cry, which they keep up at intervals\nthe whole night through. If captured during the day, they seem quite\ndazed when released, and at once fly into some dark place. The date of\ntheir departure, like that of their arrival, is not easily fixed, but I\nthink it is during September. Young birds have been got on the lantern at\nnight as late as the end of September, but never in October.\n\n[Illustration: _Eider duck (male)._]\n\nThe eider duck is a regular visitor, and a considerable flock make Sule\nSkerry their headquarters for about eight months in the year. They are\nfirst seen in March fishing off the island, but they very rarely land\nbefore the end of April. In May they may be seen ashore every day, but\nalways near the water, ready to pop in if alarmed. They are very shy and\ndifficult to approach. In June the duck and the drake both come ashore\nand select a place for their nest, and that is the only occasion on which\nthe drake takes a part in the hatching process. So far as my observation\ngoes, I have never seen him approach his mate during the month of\nincubation.\n\nThe nest is built sometimes on a bare rock, but more commonly among\ngrass, and consists of coarse grass for a foundation, the famous down\nbeing added only as the eggs are laid. Five or six is the common number\nfound in one nest. From the time it begins to sit until incubation is\ncompleted, the duck never leaves the nest unless disturbed, and will only\nfly to sea if driven off. If approached quietly, it will allow one to\nstroke it, and does not seem afraid. There are always one or two nests\nclose to the house, and though I have watched them closely at all hours,\nnight and day, I have never seen the birds go away for food, nor have I\nseen their undutiful spouses bring any to them. I will not venture to\nsay that the duck lives a month without sustenance, but I am strongly\ninclined to that belief. When frightened away, it goes only a short\ndistance, and returns immediately as soon as the cause of its fright has\nbeen removed.\n\n[Illustration: _Eider duck on nest._]\n\nThe whole inside of the nest is lined with down, which seems to be\nintended only for the purpose of keeping the eggs warm. It is certainly\nnot intended to form a cosy nursery for the young, as they leave for the\nsea a few hours after birth and do not return. Unless the down is removed\nbefore the young are hatched it is useless, for it gets mixed up with the\negg-shells, which are always broken into very small pieces. After leaving\nthe nest the young birds rarely come ashore again, but remain afloat,\nfeeding along the edge of the rocks on mussels and crustaceans. The old\nbirds disappear in October, but some young ones remain till the end of\nNovember.\n\n[Illustration: _Kittiwake._]\n\nFew kittiwake gulls visit the island, but these come regularly, and take\nup their abode on the same ground year after year. They arrive in April,\nand about the first of May begin nest-building, a work which keeps them\nemployed for about three weeks. They begin laying about the end of May,\nand lay three eggs. The young are fully grown before leaving the nest,\nand are fed by both the parent birds. They all leave the island about the\nend of August, and not even a straggler is seen till the following spring.\n\n[Illustration: _Curlew or whaup._]\n\nI have now gone over all the birds that breed on Sule Skerry, and come\nnext to the regular winter visitors, consisting of the curlew, the snipe,\nthe turnstone, and the common sandpiper.\n\nAbout a dozen curlews or whaups make the island their home for about nine\nmonths of the year. They leave about the end of May and return in August,\nremaining on the island all winter. Their number always keeps about the\nsame\u2014twelve or fifteen. They have the same characteristics as those found\nelsewhere\u2014their extraordinary alertness and their peculiar cry\u2014but they\nare distinctly less shy than is usually the case in other parts of the\ncountry. They are never disturbed in any way, and the result is that, if\nany one wished, it would be an easy matter to get within gunshot of them.\nTheir chief food is worms and insects, of which there is a plentiful\nsupply on the island.\n\nWhen the curlews leave the island, a few whimbrels take their place, and\nremain about six weeks. They breed in Orkney and Shetland, but though\nthey remain on the island most of the breeding season I have never yet\nfound a nest. I have spent many an hour watching them from the light-room\nwith the glass to see if they were sitting, and have gone over the ground\nwhere they are most frequently seen, but could never find an egg or any\nattempt at nest building. They are very much like the curlew in general\nappearance, only much smaller.\n\n[Illustration: _Snipe._]\n\nThe snipe leaves the island in May, and is absent about four months,\nusually returning in October. None, so far, have ever nested on\nSule Skerry, and they all go elsewhere for that purpose. There is a\nconsiderable number of them resident during the winter, larger in some\nyears than in others. They sometimes get killed by dashing against the\nlantern at night, but it is not often they fly so high.\n\n[Illustration: _Turnstone._]\n\nThe turnstone always spends the winter on the island, arriving about\nthe end of August or the first of September, and from then on till\nApril it spends its time feeding on insects. On Sule Skerry it is in\nno way afraid of man, but rather the opposite, for it depends a good\ndeal on the lightkeepers for its livelihood in stormy weather. Whenever\nthe lightkeepers go to feed their hens, the turnstones gather from all\nparts of the island and sit round at a respectful distance\u2014about a dozen\nyards\u2014waiting for their share, which they receive regularly every day,\nand they seem to enjoy it very much. The lightkeepers often turn over\nbig stones to enable the hens to feed on the insects which are there\nin immense quantities. The turnstones have learned the meaning of this\noperation, and whether the hens are present or not, they soon gather\nround for a feast when one retires a short distance. A few specimens of\nthe common sandpiper always accompany them, but they feed more amongst\nthe seaweed along the coast-line, and are more afraid of the approach of\nman.\n\n[Illustration: _Sandpiper._]\n\n\nOccasional Visitors.\n\nWe now come to the third class, the occasional visitors. These are the\nwild goose, the mallard or stock duck, the teal, the widgeon, the Iceland\ngull, the Sclavonian grebe, the heron, the kestrel, the hooded crow,\nthe rook, the lapwing, the golden plover, the redshank, the corncrake,\nthe water rail, the fieldfare, the redwing, the snow-bunting, the\nstarling, the song thrush or mavis, the blackbird, the water-wagtail, the\nstonechat, the woodcock, the skylark, the twite or mountain linnet, the\nrobin, the swallow, the black-headed gull, and the little auk.\n\nWild geese pass the island on their way south in October, but very rarely\nrest. Occasionally a flock will hover round for some time, but the sight\nof a human habitation scares them away, and they continue on their way in\nthe direction of Cape Wrath. Last October half a dozen were seen resting\non the island one morning about eight o\u2019clock. They seemed to be feeding\nin one of the fresh-water pools, but all they would find there would not\nfatten them. Sule Skerry is a very likely place for them to call at, as\nit is right in their track when on the way to and from Iceland and Faroe,\nbut perhaps the island being inhabited causes them to give it a wide\nberth. At any rate very few of them ever honour it with a visit.\n\n[Illustration: _Mallard._]\n\nThe mallard pays the island frequent visits during the winter, two and\nthree at a time. They never stay long, for there is very little feeding\nfor them. They are particularly shy, resting only on the most outlying\nparts, and seeming continually on the watch. Teal and widgeon are not\ncommon. Of the former one sees a specimen or two every winter, while of\nthe latter only two have visited the island, and that was in March 1897,\nwhen they stayed a few days.\n\nIn November 1895 an Iceland gull arrived on the island, and remained to\nthe end of February following. It became fairly tame, sitting the greater\npart of the day near the house on the watch for any scraps of meat that\nwere thrown out. Hopes were entertained that it intended remaining\npermanently on the island, but on the approach of the breeding season it\ndeparted. In 1898 one stayed for a week in November; in the following\nyear another was seen on the 23rd of November. This one was fishing in\ncompany with some common gulls, and occasionally flew over the island\nquite close to the tower; but I did not see it alight, nor was it seen\nagain on any of the following days.\n\n[Illustration: _Heron._]\n\nThe common heron every year spends a day or two on the island, generally\nin October or November, but it never seems at home. They wander about\nin search of food, but apparently do not find very much. When leaving\nthe island they always, without exception, fly in the direction of Cape\nWrath, but where they come from I cannot say, never having noticed them\narriving.\n\nThe hooded crow is an annual visitor, generally in November, and it\nsometimes comes for a short visit in April. Two or three is the common\nnumber at one time. There is, however, not much food for them, and on\nthat account their visit is soon over. A few rooks call about the same\ntime.\n\nEvery year in April the lapwings make the island a resting-place,\nstaying from a week to a fortnight. The place does not seem to suit them\nfor nesting purposes, for I have never seen them make any attempt at\nnest-building. After resting and renewing their strength, they seek out\nsome more hospitable part of the country. Small flocks of the golden\nplover also rest on the island on their passage north in March and April,\nand again on their way south in October and November, staying from eight\nto twelve days. There are also a few straggling visitors during the\nwinter.\n\nThe common redshank is a frequent visitor, staying perhaps a week at a\ntime, but it never nests on the island. In 1896 a corncrake\u2019s well-known\nsong was heard during the greater part of June. It was heard again the\nfollowing season, but never since. The bird, however, is occasionally\nseen in summer. The only way I can account for its silence is that the\ngoats and rabbits never allow the grass to grow to any length, and thus\nthere is no cover for it. I think most ornithologists are now satisfied\nthat this bird migrates to a warmer climate every year on the approach of\nwinter. Whether such is the case or not I do not feel prepared to say,\nbut from my experience of Sule Skerry I am quite satisfied it is only a\nsummer visitor there, and does not remain on the island all winter. The\nwater-rail pays the island a visit every winter, but I do not think\nthere is any danger of its being mistaken for the corncrake. They are a\nlittle like one another in shape, but they are two distinct species, and\neasily recognized.\n\n[Illustration: _Water-rail._]\n\nIn October and November the island is visited annually by considerable\nnumbers of fieldfares, redwings, blackbirds, rock-thrushes, starlings,\nand woodcocks. They generally stay from a week to a fortnight, and are\nmore numerous some years than others. Water-wagtails are rare visitors,\nseen at various times of the year. Stonechats are also rare visitors,\nonly staying a few days in May. The skylark, so common everywhere else,\nis a very rare visitor, and is only seen or heard once or twice during\nthe summer months. Robin redbreast is always seen in the autumn, and\ngenerally stays a few weeks if the weather is moderate. The twite or\nmountain linnet pays an occasional visit in summer, and stays for some\ntime; but I have never yet found a nest, and cannot say if it breeds on\nthe island. In June every year a few sparrows spend a fortnight on Sule\nSkerry. Snow-buntings almost deserve the name of regular winter visitors,\nfor from October to March they are seldom long absent.\n\nLast September I got a bird which I knew to belong to the grebe family,\nbut I could not be sure of its proper name, and I sent it to Mr. Harvie\nBrown for identification. He informed me it was a Sclavonian grebe, a\nbird not very common in this part of the country. In November 1897 I\nfound a dead specimen of the little auk.\n\n[Illustration: _Solan goose._]\n\nThough not a Sule Skerry bird, the solan goose deserves notice in this\npaper. The Stack, distant four and a half miles, has been their chief\nbreeding place in Orkney for ages, and every year it is tenanted by\nimmense numbers. The rock is 140 feet high, rising perpendicularly on\nthe west, but sloping gradually from the water to the summit on the\neast side. It is on this slope that the solans congregate, and no other\nbird is allowed to trespass on their preserves. In May, June, July,\nand August their numbers are so vast that any one seeing the rock at a\ndistance would imagine it was painted white or composed of chalk. Sule\nSkerry, however, is too far distant to allow of one forming any idea\nof their numbers, but looking at them with the glass one sees the rock\nsimply covered, and apparently as many flying about as resting. Lewis men\nvisit the place annually in August, and carry away a boatload of young\nbirds. Last year they came up to the rock, but there was too much surf\nfor a landing, and as the weather was threatening they headed for the\nSutherlandshire coast. That night the wind blew half a gale, and fears\nwere entertained that it would prove too much for them, for their boat\nwas small and hardly powerful enough to be so far from home; but a few\ndays later they again approached the rock. They again failed to negotiate\nit, and after waiting for about an hour they made sail for home, and did\nnot return. The weather certainly favoured the solans on these occasions.\n\nI have never seen a solan resting on Sule Skerry; they even carefully\navoid flying across the island, though they fish in immense numbers all\nround, and sometimes within forty or fifty yards of the shore. They\nusually begin to arrive in the vicinity about the end of January, and\ntheir numbers continue to increase until the end of April, when they take\npossession of the rock, and from then until the end of August their name\nis legion. When the young are fledged, they gradually disappear, and from\nthe first of December till the last days of January they are not to be\nseen.\n\nThus they go on year after year, a fraction of that great feathered\nmultitude which has come and gone since the earliest ages, and will\nprobably continue to come and go as long as the world lasts, some\narriving and departing in silence, others heralding their coming and\ngoing with the wildest clamour. On this subject, and speaking of the\nnorthern isles, Thomson the poet says:\u2014\n\n \u201cWhere the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,\n Boils round the naked melancholy isles\n Of farthest Thule, and the Atlantic\u2019s surge\n Pours in amongst the stormy Hebrides;\n Who can recount what transmigrations there\n Are annual made? what nations come and go?\n And how the living clouds on clouds arise,\n Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air\n And rude resounding shore are one wild cry?\u201d\n\n J. TOMISON\n (_\u201cOrcadian Papers.\u201d_)\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCOMMON SEAWEEDS.\n\n\nA severe storm has been raging for several days on our shores, and no\nship has dared to cross the Pentland. To-day a great calm has fallen upon\nthe face of the waters, and the sun shines clear in the sky. A walk by\nthe seashore on such a morning will afford an excellent opportunity for\ncollecting specimens of our seaweeds, and for studying their life-history.\n\nHere they lie in all their varied colours, strewn on the beach like\nautumn leaves in a forest. Now is our chance to secure some of those rare\nand beautiful weeds that grow in the deeper water, and have been torn\noff and driven ashore by the waves. If pressed and dried with care, they\nwill remain things of beauty for long. For this purpose we use squares of\nstiff paper or card, on which we spread them out carefully under water.\nWhen pressed, they will adhere to the paper by means of the mucilage\nwhich they contain.\n\n[Illustration: _Common seaweeds.\u2014I._\n\nA, _Sargassum_ (Gulf-weed), B, _Cladophora_. C, _Enteromorpha_. D 1,\n_Fucus vesiculosus_. D 2, Receptacle of same, with eggs and sperms. D 3,\nEgg, with sperms. E, _Polysiphonia_.]\n\nThe delicate fern-like or feathery fronds of those red seaweeds will\ncompare in beauty with the best of our flowering plants. This is all\nthe more wonderful when we consider their lowly origin. For the family\nof the _Alg\u00e6_, to which the seaweeds belong, is the oldest and most\nprimitive of all the families of plants. To the Alg\u00e6 most likely\nbelonged the first forms of life which appeared on the earth.\n\nIf we are fortunate to-day we may find a specimen of the famous Gulf-weed\n(_Sargassum_), which gives its name to the Sargasso Sea, and which is\nsaid to have cheered Columbus on his celebrated voyage of discovery. In\nthe tropical Atlantic it covers immense areas of the ocean, and it is\noccasionally cast ashore on the Orkney coasts, drifted hither by the Gulf\nStream and the westerly winds. It is easily recognized by its numerous\nlittle round air-bladders, each on a separate branch.\n\nNow let us turn our attention to the seaweeds which we find growing\non the beach around us. In many a rock pool in the \u201cebb\u201d we may see\na miniature forest of tiny weeds of beautiful colours and forms, a\nveritable ocean garden. Near high-water mark we find here and there\nin the pools pretty green alg\u00e6, some with broad, flat fronds, such as\nthe sea-lettuce (_Ulva_), and others with slender branching feathery\nfilaments (_Cladophora_). Many of the green alg\u00e6, however, prefer to live\nin fresh water. If you make an aquarium, you will find the sea-lettuce\nand the sea-grass (_Enteromorpha_) of great value in keeping the water\npure, owing to the amount of oxygen which they give out.\n\nFarther down on the beach the rocks are covered thickly with alg\u00e6 of an\nolive-brown colour. The rocks, indeed, would fare much worse in a storm\nif the seaweeds were not there to protect them, as the grass protects the\nsoil of the fields.\n\nLook more closely at those big brown sea-wracks and you will notice\nthat the most common kind (_Fucus vesiculosus_) has little globular\nair-bladders arranged in pairs along its flat, smooth-edged fronds. Each\nblade has a distinct midrib, and where it divides, like all the Fucus\ngroup, it splits into two equal branches. On some of the little end\nbranches you may see a yellowish swelling dotted over with minute knobs\nand pores. These swellings are receptacles for holding the eggs and\nsperms, which are contained in tiny cavities under each projecting knob.\nMany seaweeds produce their fruit in winter, when the land plants are\nsleeping and the fields are bare.\n\nThe microscopic sperms correspond to the pollen and the eggs to the\novules of the flowering plants. But there is one wonderful difference.\nThe sperms of the Fucus can move about freely by means of two little\nprojecting threads or cilia. When the tide is out, both eggs and sperms\ncome to the door of their little houses by the help of the mucilage in\nwhich they float; and when the sea comes back swarms of these sperms swim\naway and wriggle about, till one of them comes in contact with an egg. It\nadheres to and fuses with the egg, which thus becomes fertilized, and is\nthen able to give rise to a young plant. A similar process goes on in all\nthe plants of the Fucus group.\n\nHere is one with notched or serrated edges (_Fucus serratus_), and\nwithout air-bladders; there another well known to every schoolboy as the\n\u201cbell tang\u201d (_Fucus nodosus_), with large air-bladders in the centre\nline of the frond, and yellow fruit-bodies each on a branch of its own,\nwithout any trace of midrib.\n\nThe air-bladders of the seaweeds are natural buoys, by means of which\nthe plants are kept erect in the water. The mucilage which makes them so\nslippery to walk over is of the utmost importance, as it protects them\nfrom drought when they are left uncovered by the tide. Seaweeds are very\nsimple in their structure, and have no true roots, stems, or leaves. They\ndo not need such organs, for every part of their body is in contact with\nthe water which contains their food-supply.\n\nWhat are those tufts of reddish-brown threads growing all over the fronds\nof this Fucus? That is a red seaweed (_Polysiphonia_), which often\nmakes its home under the shelter of a more hardy plant. In the red alg\u00e6\nthe sperms have no cilia, and cannot move about of themselves, but the\neggs have each a long thread, corresponding to the stigma of the higher\nplants, and against this thread the sperms are driven by currents of\nwater.\n\nThe little Fucus known as \u201cteeting tang\u201d (_Fucus canaliculatus_) ought\nnot to be passed unheeded. It is often much relished by sheep and cattle.\nYou may know it by its greenish-brown colour and by the distinct groove\non one side all along its length. It is found only in the upper part\nof the \u201cebb\u201d. Another interesting plant of this group may be found on\nthe large rocks nearer low-water mark. It is called the \u201csea-thong\u201d\n(_Himanthalia lorea_), because its fructification grows out from a\nbutton-shaped base into long, forked, thong-like branches.\n\n[Illustration: _Common seaweeds.\u2014II._\n\nF, _Fucus canaliculatus_. G, _Himanthalia lorea_. H, _Laminaria\ndigitata_. I, _Rhodymenia_. K, _Chondrus crispus_. L, _Porphyra_.]\n\nIf the tide is far out, we shall be able to see the tops of the\n\u201cred-ware\u201d standing out of the water, and some of the tangles will be\nquite dry. These tangles belong to the _Laminaria_ group, the giants\namong the seaweeds. They contain a large amount of iodine in their\ncomposition, and that is why they are used for the manufacture of kelp.\nNotice how firmly they cling to the sea-bottom by their strong holdfasts,\nwhich have weathered many a storm.\n\nAn interesting feature in this group is their manner of growth. The\ngrowing region lies at the junction of the stalk with the blade. You\nwill often find a specimen in which the old blade is being pushed away\non the end of the young one, ready to be broken off and cast adrift by\nthe waves. The stalk itself is perennial, but in some kinds of Laminaria\n(_Laminaria digitata_, for example) the blade is usually torn into shreds\nbefore it is thrown off.\n\nA well-known ally of the tangles is the \u201cmerkal,\u201d also called\n\u201choney-ware.\u201d You can tell it by the prominent midrib and the broad, thin\nwing on each side, running all its length. This is one of the edible\nseaweeds. Do you see this bright red palmate plant growing under the\nshelter of the tangles? It is the common dulse (_Rhodymenia palmata_),\nwhich may often be seen for sale on the streets of our cities. Examine\nit well and taste it, and you will be able to recognize it in future,\nhowever much it may vary in form or colour. But do not eat too much of\nit, for it is said to be somewhat indigestible.\n\nAnother edible seaweed which has been widely used as an invalid food\nmay be found in the lower part of the \u201cebb,\u201d often under the shelter of\nlarger plants. This is the Irish moss or carrageen (_Chondrus crispus_).\nIt is fleshy and pink in colour. A jelly is made from it which is\nconsidered a great delicacy.\n\nThe purple laver (_Porphyra_) is perhaps the most valuable of the\nseaweeds as a food, and is said to sell at a high price in Yokohama. In\nform it resembles the sea-lettuce. Many other marine alg\u00e6 have been used\nas food, and none of them are poisonous. In North Ronaldsay the sheep\nseem to esteem them highly as food.\n\nThe most important use of seaweed is to serve as food for various\nkinds of molluscs, crustaceans, and fishes. The \u201cplankton\u201d of the\nsea-surface\u2014minute one-celled alg\u00e6\u2014are very important in this way. What\ngrass is to the land animals, the marine alg\u00e6 are to the living creatures\nof the sea. When driven ashore by the waves, or when cut down by the once\nfamiliar \u201chook,\u201d the larger seaweeds are much used as manure for field\ncrops. They thus repay the debt they owe for any portion of their food\nthat may have come originally from the dry land.\n\nBefore returning from our walk let us haul down this small boat from\nits \u201cnoust\u201d and take a bird\u2019s-eye view of the seaweeds in their natural\nhabitat. Through the clear water beneath us we can see the strange shapes\nof the submerged vegetation, dense and tangled, with here and there a\nlazy sea-urchin on the broad red-ware, and the sillocks actively swimming\naround. But our oars are entangled in the \u201cdrew\u201d (_Chorda filum_), so\nfull of annoyance and even of danger to the swimmer. Look at one of those\nlong threads. It is covered with hairs; it tapers towards both ends, and\nits fructification extends along its whole surface. In structure it is a\nhollow tube divided into many chambers.\n\nWhat a variety of colours and shades we see as we look down on this\nwonderful submarine scenery! We notice that near high-water mark green is\nthe predominant colour, and that the lower belt is mostly brown, while\nhere at low-water mark and beyond it, as well as under the shelter of the\nsea-wracks and tangles, shades of red prevail. Beyond the depth of thirty\nor forty fathoms seaweeds are extremely rare, owing to the want of light\nat the sea-bottom: seaweeds, like other plants, cannot take in their food\nin darkness.\n\nNotwithstanding their varied tints, the fundamental colour of all\nseaweeds is green, as you can prove for yourselves by boiling a few brown\nspecimens, or soaking them for some time in fresh water. You will find\nthat the other colouring matters are dissolved out, and only the green\nis left. The red or brown pigments are probably of use in aiding or in\nprotecting the green colouring matter, chlorophyll, in its important work\nof assimilating the food material.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCRABS.\n\n\nWhen I was a boy at school we frequently amused ourselves by catching\ncrabs. The scene of our operations was the Peerie Sea, where a wall had\nbeen built along the shore. Here we used to gather, armed with a piece\nof string and bait of some kind, and we often spent a whole long evening\nperched on the wall, fishing for crabs. The Peerie Sea was a receptacle\nfor all kinds of refuse, and formed a happy hunting-ground for swarms of\ncrabs.\n\nWhen one thinks of catching crabs, one may naturally imagine an excursion\nto the shore during ebb-tide, and much turning over of stones and\nseaweed. Our method was quite different. We made the crabs come to us.\nOur bait was a piece of fish or anything of an animal nature, provided it\nwas fairly tough. No hook was necessary; we simply tied the end of the\nstring round the bait.\n\nThe baited line was let down into the water, preferably in the vicinity\nof a crab, and drawn slowly along the bottom. If the animal was timid,\nand not very hungry, he often scuttled off in a fright. Usually,\nhowever, he was both hungry and fearless, and seized the bait at once,\ntrying to drag it in among seaweed or into a hole. Now came the exciting\npart of the business. Our object was to haul him up before he quitted his\nhold. The wall was high, and he required careful management. Sometimes\nwhen he was drawn up out of the water he would let go, and fall back with\na flop into the sea again; sometimes he would hold on till he was drawn\nup over the wall, and then we shook him off on the pavement behind.\n\n[Illustration: _Common shore crab._]\n\nOccasionally when we had no bait we would manage to land a crab with a\nsmall stone or a cinder. So long as the stone lies motionless on the\nbottom he pays no attention to it. As soon as it begins to move, drawn\nalong by the string, the crab rushes at it and seizes it with his claws,\nand it is some time before he finds out his mistake. Not infrequently\nhe will allow himself to be drawn quite out of the water, clinging to\nhis find. It is very amusing to see the crab worrying a hard stone, then\ndropping it when he has discovered it is not eatable, and then seizing it\nagain as it begins to move away from him, just like a kitten with a ball\nof wool. Apparently he cannot resist the idea that movement means life.\n\nThe commonest kind of crab in Orkney is the green shore-crab. He is on\nthe whole a bold animal, but when frightened he runs away with great\nspeed. He moves sideways, and thus meets with less resistance from the\nwater than if he were to move directly forward. Usually, however, he does\nnot walk fast, but creeps over the bottom in a leisurely fashion. When\nseizing his food he comes up to it \u201chead on,\u201d his nipping claws held wide\napart; when he is near enough, he suddenly brings them together, and\nbegins to tear up the food in little bits and pack it into his mouth.\n\nHis eyes are placed on the tip of movable projections, so that they\ncommand a wide view. He cannot see behind him, however, or under his\nbody, and he usually keeps his eyes fixed in the direction in which he is\ngoing. When he is resting, his eyes are ever on the watch. Every little\nmovement on the beach near him he notices at once.\n\nThe crab has a peculiar method of feeding. His mouth is just under his\nhead, and the opening is guarded by two flat jointed plates, one on\neach side of his mouth. If you pull these two plates apart\u2014after having\narranged with a friend to hold his pincers\u2014you can see where his mouth\nis, and you may notice two strong things which look like teeth. These are\nreally his jaws; they move from side to side, and not up and down like\nour jaws. To see how he feeds, you must put him into a glass jar, and\nlook up from below while he is eating a bit of fish. He tears it up with\nhis pincers, and puts little bits into his mouth, the parts of which move\nfrom side to side as he eats.\n\nHe is not very particular as to what he eats. He is, indeed, a cannibal,\nand will eat the crushed leg of another crab as readily as anything else.\nHe is one of the most useful animals on the beach, however, and has been\ncalled the scavenger of the shore. In fact, if one wishes to get the\nflesh cleaned off the skeleton of any large animal, there is no easier\nmethod than to lay it on the beach, well below high-water mark, and build\nstones around it, leaving spaces between them to admit crabs.\n\nAs we have already said, the crab is bold and fearless. He is safe in\nhis coat of armour, and his pincers are powerful weapons of offence and\ndefence. When fighting he rears himself up and throws his nipping legs\nfar apart with the pincers wide open. He then looks a formidable animal;\nand he really is formidable, for with these legs he can protect almost\nany part of his body, and the strength of his grip is considerable.\n\nTake up a dead crab and examine his biting leg. The different parts are\njoined by hinges. Each hinge allows of motion only in one plane, but the\nvarious planes are so adjusted that the limb can be moved in almost any\ndirection. Only one part of his body cannot be touched by his pincers,\nand that is his back. If you wish to grasp a live crab with impunity,\nseize him across the back just where his walking legs join the body. He\nmay struggle as he pleases, but he cannot nip you.\n\nIt is quite a common thing to find a shore crab with one or more legs\nwanting, or with one large pincer and one small one. What is the reason\nof this? It means that at one time or other the crab has had a limb torn\noff in a fight, for the males are continually fighting with one another.\nWhen a limb is lost it is not a very serious matter, for a new limb soon\nbegins to grow on again, and after a time becomes as large as the lost\none.\n\nThere are times, however, when the crab is by no means pugnacious. One\nsometimes finds under a stone a crab which has hardly enough spirit to\nlift his pincers in self-defence. On touching him one finds that he is\nquite soft. What has happened to him? He has recently been casting his\ncoat; for, as the animal goes on growing within his shell, he becomes\ntoo big for it, and the only thing he can do is to burst the shell and\ncome out of it, and then wait for a bigger one to grow. When he is thus\nmoulting, he is glad to crawl away and hide till he is able to face the\nworld again. Many of the empty crab shells that one picks up on the\nbeach are the old cast-off clothes of crabs still alive and vigorous. By\nexamining one of these we can see how thorough the process of moulting\nis; not only are the shells of his back and his legs thrown off, but the\ncovering of his eyes, his feelers, his mouth parts, and even the inside\nlining of his stomach,\u2014for, strange to say, the wall of his stomach is\nlined with the same kind of shell as the outside of his body.\n\nThe crab is formed for living in water, but he can stand long exposure\nto the air. If you cover him with damp garden soil or peat mould he will\nsurvive for days. The reason is that so long as his gills are kept damp\nhe can breathe and live quite well. The lobster breathes in exactly the\nsame way, and when lobsters are being shipped for the southern markets\nthey are put in boxes with layers of wet seaweed to keep them alive.\n\nHave you ever seen the beautiful set of gills which the crab has? If you\nfind a dead crab that has been lying on the beach for some little time,\nyou can easily remove the upper shell, leaving the soft parts of the body\nwith the legs attached. Just above the attachment of the legs there is\na series of brown feathery-looking things which seem to cover the whole\nside of the body. These are the gills. They lie in a special chamber,\noccupying about half of the whole space inside the shell. While the crab\nis alive, the gills are continually bathed in a current of water, which\nis pumped in through a small hole at the side of his mouth and drawn out\nat another hole near it. If the gills become dry the animal soon dies.\n\nThere is a curious pointed flap folded tightly across the crab\u2019s body\nunderneath, which is commonly called its \u201cpurse.\u201d It used to be a\nschoolboy belief that the crab carries its money here. The fact simply\nis that the purse is kept closed for the sake of protection, as the skin\nunderneath it is soft and might easily be injured in a fight.\n\nYou have all seen the long tail of the lobster, with its broad flaps at\nthe end. By suddenly bending its tail underneath its body the lobster is\nable to propel itself backwards through the water at a great rate. The\ncrab and the lobster are, as you may know, closely related, and the purse\nof the former corresponds to the tail of the latter. The purse or tail of\nthe crab, however, is always tucked up under the body, and is never used\nfor swimming.\n\nBoth animals carry their eggs on this part of their body, and you may\noccasionally find a crab with its purse so full of eggs that it cannot be\nclosed. These eggs have a curious history. When they are hatched, it is\nnot a small crab that comes out, but a funny little creature not in the\nleast like its parent. It has a rounded body and a long thin tail, and\nswims actively about. At this stage it is called a _z\u0153a_.\n\nBy-and-by the creature settles down to the sea-bottom and casts its\nshell. Its back is now broader and its tail shorter, and it is provided\nwith claws; but it is still quite unlike a crab, and swims freely about.\nIt is now known as a _megalopa_. Swarms of these may be found clustered\nround seaweed and other floating substances, both near the shore and in\ndeep water. As it grows it again casts its shell, but it now tucks in\nits tail and settles down in life as a real crab, though of course a\nvery small one as yet: you may find scores of them on the beach not much\nbigger than a split pea.\n\nBesides the green crab there are others which are common on the\nsea-beach. One of these is the edible crab or \u201cpartan.\u201d This crab lives\nin somewhat deeper water than the other, and is of a dark reddish or\npurplish hue on the back, while its under parts are white. It is not\nnearly so quick and active in its movements as the green crab, but when\nit does get hold of anything it has a stronger bite. In deep water it\ngrows to a giant size, and it is regularly caught in creels and sold for\nfood, as its flesh is firm and good to eat. The flesh of the green crab,\non the other hand, is much softer and less abundant, and it is not used\nfor eating. Strangely enough, all crabs turn red when boiled, whatever\ntheir colour when alive.\n\nAnother curious crab is sometimes found in weedy pools on the beach. This\nanimal is of a spidery form, and is much more difficult to see than an\nordinary crab, for he is elaborately disguised. His back and legs are\ngrown over with hairy brown seaweed, and as he always lies among a mass\nof similar weed it is impossible to detect him so long as he remains at\nrest. When he does move, his movements are extremely slow. If you take\nhim out of the water, he looks a most uncouth creature as he feebly\nsprawls about. Place him back in the bunch of seaweed from which he was\ntaken, and he immediately adjusts himself so as to become invisible. This\nis his mode of escaping observation, for he is too slow and weak to be\nable to defend himself.\n\nStill another odd-looking crab may be found in deep water. This animal\nhas rather thin legs, while its back is somewhat pear-shaped, the pointed\nend being directed forwards. It is, however, a much more active animal\nthan the last mentioned, and we may often see it from a boat as it climbs\nabout on the broad blades of the tangles. It is rarely found on the\nbeach, but the cast-off shell of the animal may be found on almost any\npart of our shores.\n\nOne of the most interesting of our crabs is known as the hermit-crab.\nHe belongs to the family of soft-tailed crabs, and in shape is more\nlike the lobster than the other crabs we have mentioned. The hinder part\nof his body being without armour, he is forced to seek an artificial\ndefence, and this he finds in the empty shell of a whelk or \u201cbuckie,\u201d\ninto the spiral coils of which he inserts his unprotected tail. These\ncreatures are generally called hermit-crabs, because each lives in his\nown separate habitation, like a hermit in his cell or like Diogenes in\nhis tub; but unlike these in their habits, they are so pugnacious that\nthey are also known as soldier-crabs.\n\n[Illustration: _Hermit-crab (with anemone on shell)._]\n\nHermit-crabs may be found plentifully on the shores, of various sizes,\nand inhabiting any kind of shell that they find to suit their size. If\nwe look into a shallow sand-bottomed rock-pool, we may see some of these\nshells moving about at a rate to which they were quite unaccustomed\nduring the life of their builder and original occupier: we know at once\nthat each of these shells has now as a tenant one of those interesting\ncrabs.\n\nBy means of an apparatus at the extremity of his tail the hermit holds\nfirmly to his temporary abode, and he flattens himself closely against\nthe shell, leaving exposed only the one large pincer which is specially\nfitted to bar the door against intruders. It is difficult to seize the\ncreature at all; and even when a grasp of any portion can be secured, the\nhold of the tail is so firm that the animal runs some risk of being torn\napart rather than leave his shell.\n\nA well-known writer on Natural History, the Rev. J. G. Wood, has given an\ninteresting account of the hermit-crab, from which we quote the following\nparagraphs:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe combative propensities of these creatures are wonderful. If two\nhermits of fairly equal size are placed in an aquarium, they are\nnot content with appropriating different portions of the vessel to\nthemselves, but must needs travel over it and fight whenever they meet.\nThis struggle is constantly renewed, until one of them discovers his\ninferiority and makes way whenever the victor comes near. When they fight\nthey do so in earnest, tumbling over each other, and flinging about their\nlegs and claws with great energy. They are not at all particular about\ndiet so long as it is of an animal substance, and will eat molluscs, raw\nmeat, or even their own species. More than once when a hermit has died\nI have dropped the body into the water so as to bring it within view of\nanother hermit. The little cannibal caught the descending body in one of\nhis claws very dexterously, and holding it firmly with one claw he picked\nit to pieces with the other, and put each morsel into his mouth in a\nrapid and systematic manner that was highly amusing.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen a hermit desires to change his habitation, he goes through a\ncurious series of performances. A shell lies on the ground, and the\nhermit seizes it with his claws and his feet and twists it about with\nwonderful dexterity, as if testing its weight; and after having examined\nevery portion of its exterior, he proceeds to satisfy himself about its\ninterior. For this purpose he pushes his fore legs as far into the shell\nas they will reach, and probes every spot that can be touched. If this\nexamination satisfies him, he whisks himself into the new shell with such\nrapidity that he seems to have been acted upon by a spring. Such a scene\nas this will not be witnessed in the sea unless the hermit is forcibly\ndeprived of his shell, but when hermits are placed in a tank or vase they\nseem to be rather fond of \u2018flitting.\u2019\u201d\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nHOPPERS AND SHOLTIES.\n\n\nOf the great multitude of different animals which live on the seashore\npossibly the most numerous are the little creatures known as \u201csholties\u201d\nor \u201cShetland sholties.\u201d They are to be found on almost every beach. Their\npeculiar shape, flattened on the sides, their habit of hiding in crowds\nunder stones or seaweed, their intense alarm when they are suddenly\nexposed, and their vigour in escaping into a new hiding-place, are known\nto every schoolboy. They look very different from their pugnacious\nrelatives, the crabs; they are feeble creatures, more ready to escape\nfrom danger than to offer fight. Yet they are most interesting little\nanimals, and the more one watches their ways the more one comes to\nunderstand their wonderful adaptation to their surroundings.\n\nThough their general appearance is quite familiar, it is not so commonly\nknown that there are many different varieties of these creatures. As a\nmatter of fact, there are scores of different kinds, some living on the\nbeach, some just below extreme low-water mark, and others in the deep\nsea. We shall concern ourselves here only with those that live on the\nbeach.\n\nThere are three common kinds which every one ought to know. Two of these,\ncuriously enough, though _beach_ animals are not really _sea_ animals.\nThey are hardly ever in the water; they live on the fringe of beach which\nlies just above high-water mark. The sea reaches them but rarely, and\nthey never voluntarily seek the water. These two kinds are known as the\nshore-hopper (_Orchestia_) and the sand-hopper (_Talitrus_), the latter\nbeing found mostly on sandy beaches, where they make little burrows in\nwhich to hide, and the former living under stones or among the decaying\nseaweed on stony beaches. They both get their name of \u201chopper\u201d from their\nhabit of leaping or springing into the air, by means of which they often\navoid capture by enemies. French people call them \u201csea-fleas.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _Shore-hopper (Orchestia)._ _Sand-hopper (Talitrus)._\n_Sholtie (Gammarus)._\n\n(All magnified about three times.)]\n\nThe third variety, which is probably best known of all, and to which\nthe name of \u201csholtie\u201d is here more especially applied, is that which\noccurs farther down on the beach in places which are constantly wet with\nsea-water. This animal (_Gammarus_) is much narrower in the body than\nthe other two, and some of its legs are bent backwards along its side,\nso that by means of them it can run or crawl on its side. Indeed, when\nout of the water this creature in quite unable to walk back uppermost;\nwhenever by any chance it does succeed in raising itself into what is for\nmost animals the normal attitude, it immediately topples over on its side\nagain. It can be readily distinguished from the other two forms by having\n_two_ pairs of long, delicate feelers or antenn\u00e6 in front of its head;\nthe hoppers have only one long pair of antenn\u00e6 and one short pair.\n\nAll these animals, in spite of their small size, are near allies of the\ncrabs and lobsters. A naturalist would tell you that they belong to\nthe group of the _Crustacea_, this name being applied to all animals\nof the crab tribe on account of the firm, crackly skin or shell which\nsurrounds them. The Crustacea are marked by other features in addition\nto the possession of this hard exterior. They are all jointed animals,\ntheir body being built up of a series of segments, each of which carries\na pair of legs or appendages of some kind, these appendages also being\njointed. In the crab and the lobster a number of segments have become\nfused or welded together to form the front part or body of the animal. In\nthe group of animals to which the sholties belong the segments are all\ndistinct.\n\nTo understand something of the structure and the general habits of the\nsholtie, all that we require to do is to collect a few specimens from\nthe beach and put them in a saucer with a little sea-water. They will\nswim about in a very active fashion, the swimming being performed by\nmeans of little fan-like appendages attached to the under part of the\nanimal just where the swimmerets are in the lobster. By the vigorous\nstrokes of these appendages the animal forces its way through the water.\n\nThese appendages are, however, of use in another way; the gills of the\nanimal are attached to them. Even when it is lying almost dry, or in\nwater too shallow for swimming, these appendages can be seen to work\nregularly and rhythmically with a gentle flapping movement. Sometimes\nthey stop working for a little and then begin again, but they are never\nlong at rest. In this way currents of water are made to bathe the gills\ncontinually, and the flapping of the appendages is really a breathing\nmovement.\n\nThe walking legs are attached to the fore part of the body. Some of them\npoint backwards, as has already been mentioned, and the animal prefers\nto crawl or run on its side. As a rule, too, it propels itself over the\nground by jerking movements of its body, its tail being alternately\ncurled up and then suddenly straightened out again. It is in this way\nthat it wriggles over the stones and escapes into a place of safety when\nexposed.\n\nOne of the most characteristic points about the sholtie is its habit of\nclinging to objects, especially if they afford a cover from the light.\nDrop a bit of seaweed into the dish where they are swimming, and in two\nor three minutes the sholties will all be found clinging to the under\nsurface of the weed. We might indeed imagine that they had escaped\nfrom the saucer. They cluster like swarming bees round the smallest\nblade of seaweed, and it is only by turning over the weed that we can\nmake sure that they are there. When exposed to full daylight they seem\nuncomfortable, and keep swimming about trying to find a hiding-place. It\nis only when they find something to cling to and to hide under that they\nreally rest and feel at ease.\n\nBut we have not yet examined the hoppers. Though externally so like\nthe sholties, they are very different in constitution and habits. To\nunderstand the difference between the two classes of animals, the best\nplan is to put either a shore-hopper or a sand-hopper into some water\nalong with a sholtie. The latter is an active little animal in the water,\ncapable of moving about like a fish. The hopper, on the other hand, is\nobviously out of his element; he sinks to the bottom of the dish and\nthere works his way along in lumbering fashion. His breathing organs can\nbe seen waving backwards and forwards in rhythmical fashion, but they are\ntoo feeble to be used for swimming. The shore-hopper can breathe quite\nwell in water, and may live in it for days. It is said that sand-hoppers\ndo not stand long-continued immersion, and die of drowning.\n\nOn land, however, the hopper is at home, provided he gets just\nsufficient moisture to keep his gills damp. Not only can he crawl about\nback uppermost\u2014a feat which the _Gammarus_ would attempt in vain\u2014but\nas he crawls he keeps his tail curled up under his body, and by\nsuddenly straightening this out he can throw himself into the air with\nconsiderable vigour. In this way he often not merely escapes from an\nenemy, but even drives terror into the heart of the pursuer. It takes\nsome little time to realize that hoppers can be handled with impunity,\nand are harmless for all their sudden jerky movements.\n\nWhy do these animals live on the upper fringe of beach, and what do they\nfind there to eat? The answer is simple. They live on the cast up refuse\nof the sea; they are the scavengers of the jetsam. Naturalists who are\ncollecting the skeletons of small animals often put the carcases which\nthey wish to have cleaned under some decaying weed on the beach. After a\nweek or a fortnight the bones are found to be picked absolutely clean.\n\nIn order to tell the sand-hopper from the shore-hopper we have only to\nlook at his front feet. If they are all thin and slender, the animal is\na sand-hopper; if one pair of the front feet are clubbed at the end and\narmed with a claw, we know that he is a shore-hopper.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nSEA-ANEMONES.\n\n\nWhen the tide ebbs and leaves the rocks exposed we may find here and\nthere a few soft, rounded objects attached to the bare rock, often bright\nred in colour, and looking like strawberries or ripe cherries. They are\nfound especially on the sheltered sides of high rocks and in the angles\nformed by slight ridges and clefts. We do not seem to have any local\nname for these objects, although they are so common and conspicuous; one\nwonders why our name-inventing forefathers did not bestow on them some\ndescriptive title. Their English name is \u201csea-anemone,\u201d a term derived\nfrom their resemblance to the anemone flower.\n\nIt is only when they are covered by the water, however, that they deserve\nthe name of anemone, for then they open out like a bud and spread out\ncircles of leaf-like projections, much as an opening daisy or dandelion\ndoes. They usually remain open during the whole time that the tide is\nup; when the water goes back again these leaves all curl in towards the\nmiddle of the anemone and are folded up inside, leaving only a little\ndimple on the top to indicate where they have disappeared.\n\nSea-anemones, however, are by no means flowers. Their jelly-like\nconsistency and their habits would lead us to classify them as animals,\nand this they undoubtedly are. Though they seem to be rooted to one spot,\nand to open and close like a plant, their real habits are those of an\nanimal. As a matter of fact, they are carnivorous animals; they first\nkill their victims by poisoning them, and afterwards devour them. If they\nhad the power of moving rapidly in pursuit of prey, they would be as\ndeadly to the general population of the beach as are the most venomous\nsnakes to the creatures on land. As it is, they account for a very\nconsiderable number of the beach inhabitants by simply lying in wait and\ngrasping the little animals that happen to stray within their reach.\n\n[Illustration: _Sea-anemones._]\n\nThe beautiful circles of leaflets which we see so regularly arranged are\nreally active grasping tentacles, armed with whole batteries of little\npoisonous stings. With these tentacles they seize hold of any little\ncreature, such as a \u201csholtie\u201d or a young crab, that happens to move\nover them. The poor animal is held fast in spite of all its struggles,\ntentacle after tentacle is brought up by the anemone to grasp it, while\nhundreds of fine stinging darts discharge into it their poison, and\nthe victim, its struggles gradually becoming more and more feeble, is\nultimately drawn into the centre of the animal, where lie its mouth and\nits stomach. Then the tentacles are all closed in over the prey, and\nremain thus closed for a time\u2014a day or several days, according to the\nsize of the animal caught. During this time the process of digestion is\ngoing on, and when it is completed the skeleton and useless parts of the\nanimal are discharged by the same opening as that by which it was taken\nin, and the anemone once more spreads its tentacles to wait for its next\nvictim.\n\nIt is not only living animals that the anemone will devour. Anything of\nanimal nature, dead or alive, is grist to its mill; and though it has\nno eyes, it can quite well distinguish what is good for food. A waving\nbranch of seaweed borne towards it by currents in the water is quite\nignored, while a bit of flesh is never allowed to come in contact with\nthe tentacles without an effort being made to secure it. By some natural\npower, whether by the sense of smell or of taste or by some other sense\nunknown to us, the creature distinguishes unfailingly what it needs. It\nis great fun to feed it with small portions of limpet or of whelk, and by\ndoing so one can see exactly how the process of feeding is carried on.\n\nOne might imagine that the anemone would easily fall a prey to larger\nand stronger animals. It has no hard skin or shell to protect it, and\nits beautiful jelly-like appearance would suggest to any hungry fish or\ncrab that it is not only easy to demolish but would form a juicy morsel.\nYet it does not seem to be in any danger from such enemies. I was once\namusing myself by throwing little pieces of bait into the sea among a\ncrowd of sillocks. Along with the bait, which consisted of limpet and\nfish, I threw in a morsel of one of these red anemones. A bold young\nsillock immediately snapped it up. Then something seemed to go wrong, for\nthe poor young fish suddenly shot the anemone out of its mouth and swam\noff without so much as looking at the other bait which I threw all round\nabout it. The piece of anemone was less palatable than it looked.\n\nStrangely enough an anemone is not much inconvenienced by being cut into\nbits. The individual pieces if put into the sea again close up and grow\ninto new animals. No doubt the piece which the sillock swallowed was\nfully alive, and stung the mouth and throat of its captor so severely\nthat the fish was only too glad to be rid of it.\n\nAll anemones are not red in colour like those of which we have been\nspeaking. There is a great number of different kinds of these creatures\nround our shores, but most of them are only to be found by careful\nsearching. Some are found in rock-pools; these are generally coloured\nmore or less like the seaweeds in the pools. Others are found only in\ndark places; under large stones or boulders near low-water mark they grow\nin all attitudes\u2014upright, sideways, and upside down\u2014attached by their\nbase to the surface of the stone. The greatest variety of them I ever saw\nwas found among the stones of a little jetty or pier, which was being\ntaken down to make room for a larger pier. The under surface and the\nsides of the stones on this pier were simply covered with anemones of all\nsizes, shapes, and colours.\n\nThe various kinds of anemone differ not only in colour but also in size\nand shape. Some are minute things, with a thin body or stalk crowned at\nthe top with long, fine tentacles, which they wave about actively through\nthe water in search for small prey. Others again are large, and one kind,\nknown as the dahlia, which is common in Orkney, attains to gigantic\nproportions; when its tentacles are expanded it is as wide across the top\nas the mouth of a large breakfast cup. The dahlia is variously coloured,\nsometimes dark crimson, the tentacles being marked with broad rings of\ncrimson and white, sometimes green with red markings. The outside of\nits body is usually covered with bits of gravel and broken shells, so\nthat when the animal closes up there is nothing to be seen but a rounded\nheap of gravel. When open it is a magnificent creature, and its broad,\ntapering tentacles shine with an iridescent light.\n\n[Illustration: _Dahlia anemone._]\n\n\n\n\nPart IV.\u2014Legend and Lay.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD GODS.\n\n\nIn the north of Europe there lived long ago that race of people whom we\nknow as the Norsemen\u2014tall, fair-haired men, strong and warlike, and as\nmuch at home on sea as on land. They came to Britain in great numbers\nat different times, and many of them settled there. We read of them\nsometimes as Vikings, sometimes as Danes, and sometimes as Normans. The\nSaxon settlers of a still earlier time were of the same kindred. We have\nalready told the story of their settlement in Orkney, and of the earldom\nwhich they established there. Everything that we can find out about this\nwonderful race of sea-rovers and warriors is of interest to us; for\nwhile most of the lowland dwellers of Scotland and England have some\nNorse blood in their veins, we who live in these northern islands regard\nourselves as the lineal descendants of those Vikings.\n\nBefore the Norsemen became Christians, they believed in many gods and\ngoddesses. They had gods of the sky and of the sea, of spring and of\nsummer, of thunder and lightning, of frost and of storm. Many a strange\ntale they told of the doings of their gods, and most of those tales are\nreally pictures of the processes that take place in nature\u2014of the wars\nbetween wind and sea, between light and darkness, and between sun and\nfrost.\n\nIn the beginning, they believed, there was the great Spirit, the Creator.\nOf him they have no tales to tell. Then the world was made\u2014or rather\nthe worlds, for the Norsemen thought that besides this world of men\nthere were a world of the gods, a world of the giants, and other worlds.\nBetween Asgard, the home of the gods, and Midgard, the world of men, a\nbeautiful bridge was built, which we call the rainbow.\n\nOdin was the highest of the gods. He was the god of wisdom and of\nvictory, and the friend of heroes. Men spoke of him as tall and strong,\nwith long, flowing hair and beard, and wearing a wide blue mantle flecked\nwith white, as the blue sky is flecked with fleecy clouds. On his\nshoulders sat two ravens, Thought and Memory. They roamed over the world\nevery day, and came back at night to whisper in his ear all they had seen\nand heard. At his feet crouched two wolves, which he fed with his own\nhand.\n\nOdin had three palaces in Asgard. One of these was Valhalla, the home\nof heroes; and hither came at their death all the brave men Odin loved\nso well. He sent forth beautiful maidens to hover over every field of\nbattle, and to carry home to Valhalla those who fell in the fight. In\nValhalla the brave lived for ever. They spent their days in fighting, as\nthey had loved to do on earth; but every evening the warriors returned\nto the hall of feasting, unhurt, and the best of friends. Such was the\nNorsemen\u2019s idea of a heaven for heroes.\n\nOdin gave men wisdom as well as courage. Only through suffering, however,\ndid he become the god of wisdom. It happened on this wise. Far below\nthe world of the giants was a crystal spring which watered the roots of\nthe tree of life\u2014a great tree reaching up to heaven. This well was the\nfountain of wisdom, and whoever drank of it became wise. It was guarded\nby a giant called Mimir, or Memory. Mimir was older than the gods, and\nwiser than they, for he remembered all things. Odin went down below the\nworld of the giants one day, and he said to Mimir, \u201cGive me a drink of\nthe clear water of your well.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d said Mimir, \u201cthis water is never given to any except at a great\nprice. You must be willing to give up the most precious thing you possess\nbefore you can drink at Mimir\u2019s fountain.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe it so,\u201d replied Odin; \u201cI will give whatever you ask.\u201d\n\nMimir looked at him, admiring his courage, and at length replied, \u201cIf you\nwould drink, you must leave with me one of your eyes.\u201d\n\nThis was a great price to pay, but Odin did not flinch. He drank of the\nfountain, and came back to Asgard with only one eye, but he had won the\nwisdom he desired.\n\nThor was the god of thunder; he was the champion of the gods, and\ndefended Asgard against the giants. His was the largest palace in Asgard;\nit had five hundred and forty halls and many great doors, and was called\nby a name which means Lightning. Thor wore a crown of stars upon his\nhead, and rode in a chariot drawn by two goats, from whose hoofs and\nteeth flashed sparks of fire. To Thor belonged three very precious\nthings. The first was his mighty hammer, with which he fought the frost\ngiants. The second was his belt of strength: when he girded himself with\nthis his strength was doubled. The third was his iron gauntlet: with this\nhe grasped his famous hammer, which he made red-hot when he fought the\ngiants.\n\nLoki was the spirit of evil and mischief. Having been banished from\nAsgard for his wickedness, he lived many years in giant-land, rejoicing\nin his evil deeds. He had three children, each as full of evil as\nhimself. So much mischief did they work that Odin looked down from Asgard\nwith a grave countenance. \u201cThis must not be,\u201d he said; \u201cLoki\u2019s children\nwill fill the world with evil.\u201d So Odin fared forth to giant-land. One of\nthe evil brood he sent to the under world of darkness, and one he threw\ninto the sea. The third, Fenris the wolf, was so strong that Odin spared\nhim. \u201cIf he were to live with the gods,\u201d he said, \u201chis strength might be\nturned to good instead of ill.\u201d So he took Fenris the wolf up to Asgard,\nto see whether he would learn goodness with his strength.\n\nWho among the gods would care for the wolf-spirit? Brave Tyr was ready\nwith the answer. \u201cFather Odin,\u201d he cried, \u201cI delight in strength. Let me\nhave the charge of this fierce fellow; I care not if the task be hard and\ndull.\u201d So Fenris became his charge. He fed him with sheep and oxen, and\ntook him with him upon his journeys. But Fenris did not learn the ways of\nthe gods. His muscles were like iron, and his teeth stronger than steel,\nbut his heart remained savage and cruel.\n\nOne night Odin called the gods together. \u201cSons,\u201d he said, \u201cI have looked\nupon Fenris, and seen his cruel strength. There is no love in his eyes,\nand no thought of good in his heart. Day by day he becomes stronger for\nevil. We must bind him, or he will destroy us.\u201d They listened, and saw\nthat the counsel of Odin was good. \u201cCome with me,\u201d said Thor the mighty;\n\u201cI will forge a chain that will hold him fast.\u201d All night long the gods\nwatched Thor toiling at his anvil, dealing great blows upon the glowing\niron, and sending sparks like shooting-stars through the darkness. When\nmorning came the massive chain was finished.\n\n\u201cCome, Fenris,\u201d called Thor, \u201cyou are strong; let us see you break this\nchain which I have made.\u201d Fenris allowed them to bind him with the heavy\nlinks: when they had done so, he stretched his huge limbs, and the thick\niron snapped like a thread of silk. The gods kept silence as Fenris\nwalked away.\n\nAgain Thor led them to his forge; again he toiled all night, hammering\nand shaping great bars of steel. When morning came, another chain was\nready, ten times stronger than the first. But this chain also snapped\nlike a spider\u2019s thread before the might of Fenris.\n\nThe gods once more sat in council, and Odin\u2019s face was grave. \u201cGreat\nindeed is the power of evil,\u201d said the All-wise, \u201cbut the power of good\nmust be greater still. Sons, let us call to our aid the skill of the\ndwarfs. Tyr shall tell them of our need, and they will help us to bind\nthe enemy.\u201d Like an arrow from the bow, Tyr sped from Asgard to the cave\nof the dwarfs, the skilful workers in gold and gems, and gladly they lent\ntheir aid to Father Odin. Three nights they toiled in the darkness, and\nthen they brought to Tyr a delicate chain which might have been spun from\na cobweb. \u201cHere is thy chain, O Tyr,\u201d they said. \u201cFierce Fenris cannot\nescape from its bands.\u201d\n\nWhen Tyr came back to Asgard, Fenris was called once more to test his\nstrength. He looked on the delicate thread, and he trembled; yet he would\nnot seem to be afraid. \u201cIf one of you will place his hand in my mouth,\nso that there may be fair play, I will let you bind me,\u201d he replied. The\ngods looked in one another\u2019s faces. Who would dare the power of the wolf?\n\nBrave Tyr stepped forward and put his arm between the wolf\u2019s jaws. The\ntiny chain was wound round Fenris. He rose to stretch himself and shake\nit off, but it held him fast. With a wild howl he gnashed his teeth\ntogether, and Tyr stood before the gods without his strong right arm.\nThen a great shout arose in Asgard, \u201cHail to Tyr! he has given his right\nhand to save the world from evil.\u201d It was echoed from the hills, and rang\nthrough the caves of the dwarfs. \u201cThe chain of the dwarfs is mighty,\u201d\nthey said, \u201cbut stronger is the brave heart of Tyr.\u201d So wisdom and\ngoodness together were more than a match for strength and evil.\n\nBaldur was the god of light. He was the fairest of all that dwelt in\nAsgard, the best beloved of gods and men. Wherever he went he carried\nwith him that kindness and love which is to the heart of man what light\nis to the sky. Every one loved him but Loki; the spirit of evil hated the\ngoodness that was in Baldur. Baldur\u2019s palace was the home of all that\nwas bright and pure. It was built of the blue of the sky and the clear\ncrystal of running water. Here he lived in peace, for no evil thing\ncould enter. But Baldur became sad and troubled, for he dreamed that his\nlife was in danger.\n\nThen his mother went abroad over the whole world, and made everything\npromise not to hurt Baldur. Who would harm the beautiful god? Earth, air,\nand water, beasts and birds, and plants and flowers\u2014all things promised\nnever to hurt him. So his mother returned to Asgard with joy, but still\nBaldur was sad. Then the gods invented a kind of game to cheer his heart.\nThey made him stand in the midst while they threw at him weapons and all\nhurtful things, to show that nothing could do him harm; and thus they\namused themselves many days.\n\nIn the meantime Loki disguised himself as an old woman, and went to\nBaldur\u2019s mother. He said he marvelled that Baldur was not hurt, and then\nthe mother told him of the promise which all things had made never to\nharm her son.\n\n\u201cWhat! have all things promised this?\u201d asked Loki.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d was the reply; \u201call things have promised except one weak little\nplant, the mistletoe, which grows far away, and which I did not think it\nworth while to ask.\u201d\n\nLoki rejoiced in his evil heart when he heard this. He hurried to the\nplace where the mistletoe grew, and plucked a twig of it, which by his\nmagic he made into a spear. Then he came back to Asgard, where the gods\nwere playing their game of throwing spears at Baldur.\n\n\u201cWhy do you not join in the game?\u201d he asked one of the gods.\n\n\u201cBecause I am blind,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cFor the honour of Baldur you should throw a spear at him,\u201d Loki went on.\n\n\u201cI have no spear to throw,\u201d answered the blind god.\n\nThen Loki put into his hand the mistletoe spear, and helped him to aim\nit. The spear pierced Baldur through the heart, and he fell dead. Then\nthere were grief and anger in Asgard; weeping and mourning were heard for\nthe first time among the gods.\n\nOdin sent a message to the daughter of Loki, who ruled over the world of\nthe dead, and asked her to set Baldur free. She replied that he would\nbe set free if every living thing would weep for him; but if a single\ncreature refused to weep, he could not return.\n\nThen the gods went through all the earth, and prayed all things living to\nweep for Baldur. One old woman alone refused, and so Baldur could not be\nset free. The old woman was no other than Loki, who had taken this form\nin order to hide himself.\n\nAfter the death of Baldur came a gloomy time in Asgard. The gods had\nfierce wars with the frost-giants, and were defeated. This time is called\n\u201cthe twilight of the gods.\u201d But even then they looked forward to a better\ntime which was to come, when Baldur should return, and all should be\nlight and joy and peace.\n\nThus the old Norsemen gave us the beautiful tale of Baldur, the sun-god.\nWhen the days are short in winter, the time of the mistletoe, Baldur is\ndead; but when spring returns, the war with the frost-giants is over, and\nBaldur returns with light and joy to the northern lands.\n\n\n\n\nA VANISHING ISLAND.\n\n\nEynhallow\u2014the \u201choly island\u201d\u2014lies in the middle of the fierce tideway that\nseparates the Orcadian mainland from Rousay, the Hrolfsey of the Sagas.\n\n \u201cEynhallow frank, Eynhallow free,\n Eynhallow stands in the middle of the sea;\n With a roaring roost on every side,\n Eynhallow stands in the middle of the tide.\u201d\n\nSo runs an old island rhyme, and surely never was there an island so\nbeaten upon and shouted round by the angry tides. It sets a black front\nof jagged rocks to the Atlantic on the west, and the great billows,\nrushing on the rocks, send spouts of spray high in the air, to whirl\neastward over the gradual slope of the isle. All day long the tide sweeps\npast on either side, boiling and eddying like a swift and deep river.\nWhen the wind is in the north-west and a strong ebb-tide is running, then\nis the time to see the roosts in all their glory; for the inrolling ocean\nswell meets the outrushing tide in the narrow channels, and the white\nwaves leap and roar as if some\n\n \u201cwallowing monster spouted\n His foam fountains in the sea.\u201d\n\nTo see this mad turmoil of the roost on a wild winter day is strange\nand terrible; but when the white breakers shout and toss themselves in\nthe sunlight of a still June morning there is a paradoxical charm in\nthe sudden outburst of leaping, sparkling foam amid the blue waters,\nunruffled of any wind, that the wildest storm of winter can never claim.\n\nThere is an even stronger fascination in the swift, dark, silent rush of\nthe tides, ceaseless along the shores, sweeping in with the flood and\nwhirling out again with the ebb, and with the little green isle in their\nmidst setting its steep front to the angry ocean, but sheltering with its\ntwo long eastward points a quiet sandy bay where no current ever comes.\n\nAll along the coast, on either side of Eynhallow Sound, are low green\nmounds, marking the places where once were the homes of the prehistoric\nOrcadians, that Celtic or Pictish race which the conquering Norsemen\ndestroyed so completely that there is not in all the place-names of the\nisles any trace of their forgotten tongue. Amidst such surroundings, one\nhas only to look at Eynhallow to know that it must have gathered legend\nand tradition in the long years.\n\nIn Rousay there still lingers a tale of the breaking of the spell that\nheld Eynhallow sea-bound; for \u201conce upon a time\u201d the isle was enchanted,\nand visible to human eyes only at rare intervals. It would rise suddenly\nout of the sea, and vanish as suddenly before any mortal could reach it.\nAnd if any one should feel inclined to doubt this tale, can we not point\nhim to the isle of Heather-Bleather, which is still held by the spell of\nthe sea-folk, and appears and disappears even unto this day?\n\nWhen Eynhallow was still a vanishing island, it became known in Rousay\nthat if any man, seeing the isle, should hold steel in his hand and,\ntaking boat, go out through the tides, never looking at aught but the\nisland, nor ever letting go the steel till he leaped on to its virgin\nshore, that man should break the spell and win the isle from the sea-folk\nfor his own people. After many failures\u2014and who can tell how many a brave\nheart went down the tide to the sea-trows in that perilous venture?\u2014there\ncame at last the hour and the man; the vanishing isle was won from the\nwaters, and left standing \u201cin the middle of the tide.\u201d\n\nIf there be yet any man brave enough to try the adventure of the\nvanishing island, Heather-Bleather awaits his coming. I have never met\nany person who would confess to having seen that mysterious isle, but\nmany of the dwellers by the roosts have spoken to those who saw it rise\ngreen out of the waters. This island is the home of the Fin-men or\nSea-men (not to be too rashly identified with the sea-trows), a race of\nbeings who play a prominent part in Orcadian folk-lore.\n\nIn Rousay they tell of a maiden mysteriously rapt from the hillside over\nthe sea, and sought in vain by her kindred. Long years after, \u201cwhen grief\nwas calm and hope was dead,\u201d the lost girl\u2019s father and brothers were at\nsea in their fishing-boat, when there rolled down upon them one of those\ndense banks of sea-fog so common in the North in summer. The fishermen\nknew not where they were, but sailed on until their boat grounded on\nan island which at first they took to be Eynhallow. They soon found,\nhowever, that they were on an island they had never seen before, and on\ngoing up to a \u201cwhite house\u201d they found in the \u201cguid-wife\u201d who admitted\nthem their long lost daughter and sister. She welcomed them, and in a\nlittle time her husband and his brother came in from the sea in \u201cwisps\u201d\n(the local name for great rolls of heather \u201csimmons,\u201d or ropes, used\nin thatching houses). Others say that they came in the guise of seals,\nand cast off their skins. Be that as it may, they treated their human\nconnections well and hospitably. When the time came for the men to leave\nfor home, the woman refused to accompany them, but she gave her father\na knife, and told him that so long as he kept it he could come to the\nisle of the waters whenever he pleased. Just as the boat put to sea the\nknife slipped from the old man\u2019s hand into the water; in a moment the fog\nswallowed the island, and no man has set foot on it since.\n\nIn summer and autumn evenings, when the sea-fog comes rolling up in great\nbanks from the Atlantic, and the westering sun fills the hollows between\nwith fantastic lights and shadows\u2014when the islands seem all to shift and\nchange, appearing and disappearing among the huge masses of white vapour,\nit requires no very strong imagination to see once more the green isle\nof Heather-Bleather riding the waters, real and solid as its sister of\nEynhallow, won so long since from the sea-folk.\n\nOf its old enchantment the isles-folk say that Eynhallow still retains\nsome small part. No steel or iron stake, such as are used for tethering\ncattle, will remain in its soil after sunset. Of their own motion they\nleap from the ground at the moment when the sea swallows the sun. Then,\nagain, no rat or mouse can live upon the island, and it is not long since\nit was usual to bring boatloads of earth from Eynhallow to lay under the\nfoundations of new houses, and under the corn-stacks in the farmyard. It\nwas firmly believed that through the charmed earth no mouse or rat could\npass.\n\n DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON\n _(The Scots Magazine). By Permission._\n\n[Since the preceding article first appeared, a very interesting discovery\nhas been made on Eynhallow, which may help to explain both the name of\nthe island\u2014the \u201cHoly Isle\u201d\u2014and the existence of so many supernatural\nlegends regarding it. References are made in the Sagas to a monastery\nin Orkney in Norse times, and it is recorded that an abbot from this\nmonastery was appointed to that of Melrose in 1175. Many probable\nsites were suggested as having been occupied by this monastery, but no\nremains could be found, and some doubt was felt as to whether it ever\nreally existed in Orkney at all. In the year 1900, however, Professor\nDietrichson, a Norwegian, examined the ruins on Eynhallow, and was able\nto show that they are the long-sought remains of the lost monastery\u2014small\nin size, but complete in all the details of a Cistercian monastery of the\nperiod referred to in the Sagas.]\n\n\n\n\nHELEN WATERS: A LEGEND OF SULE SKERRY.\n\n\nThe mountains of Hoy, the highest of the Orkney Islands, rise abruptly\nout of the ocean to an elevation of fifteen hundred feet, and terminate\non one side in a cliff, sheer and stupendous as if the mountain had been\ncut down through the middle and the severed portion of it buried in the\nsea. Immediately on the landward side of this precipice lies a soft green\nvalley, embosomed among huge black cliffs, where the sound of the human\nvoice or the report of a gun is reverberated among the rocks till it\ngradually dies away into soft and softer echoes.\n\nThe hills are intersected by deep and dreary glens, where the hum of the\nworld is never heard, and the only voices of life are the bleat of the\nlamb and the shriek of the eagle. The breeze wafts not on its wings the\nwhisper of the woodland, for there are no trees on the island; the roar\nof the torrent stream and the sea\u2019s eternal moan for ever sadden those\nsolitudes of the world.\n\nThe ascent of the mountain is in some parts almost perpendicular, and in\nall exceedingly steep; but the admirer of Nature in her grandest and most\nstriking aspects will be amply compensated for his toil, upon reaching\ntheir summits, by the magnificent prospect which they afford. Towards\nthe north and east, the vast expanse of the ocean, and the islands, with\ntheir dark heath-clad hills, their green vales, and gigantic cliffs,\nexpand below as far as the eye can reach. The view towards the south is\nbounded by the lofty mountains of Scaraben and Morven, and by the wild\nhills of Strathnaver and Cape Wrath, stretching towards the west. In the\ndirection of the latter, and far away in mid-ocean, may be seen, during\nclear weather, a barren rock called Sule Skerry, which superstition in\nformer days had peopled with mermaids and monsters of the deep. This\nsolitary spot had long been known to the Orcadians as the haunt of\nsea-fowl and seals, and was the scene of frequent shooting excursions,\nthough such perilous adventures have been long since abandoned. It is\nassociated in my mind with a wild tale, which I have heard in my youth,\nthough I am uncertain whether or not the circumstances which it narrates\nare yet in the memory of living men.\n\nOn the opposite side of the mountainous island of which I speak, and\ndivided from it by a frith of several miles in breadth, lie the flat\nserpentine shores of the principal island or Mainland, where, upon a\ngentle slope, at a short distance from the sea-beach, may still be traced\nthe site of a cottage, once the dwelling of a humble couple of the name\nof Waters, belonging to the class of small proprietors.\n\nTheir only child Helen, at the time to which my narration refers, was\njust budding into womanhood; and though uninitiated into what would now\nbe considered the indispensable requisites of female education, was yet\nnot altogether unaccomplished for the simple times in which she lived,\nand, though a child of nature, had a grace beyond the reach of art.\n\nHenry Graham, the accepted lover of Helen Waters, was the son of a small\nproprietor in the neighbourhood; and being of the same humble rank with\nherself, and, though not rich, removed from poverty, their views were\nundisturbed by the dotage of avarice or the fears of want, and the smiles\nof approving friends seemed to await their approaching union.\n\nIn the Orkneys it was customary for the bridegroom to invite the wedding\nguests in person; for which purpose, a few days previous to the marriage,\nyoung Graham, accompanied by a friend, took a boat and proceeded to the\nisland of Hoy in order to request the attendance of a family residing\nthere; which done, on the following day they joined a party of young men\nupon a shooting excursion to Rackwick, a village romantically situated\non the opposite side of the island. They left the house of their friends\non a bright, calm autumnal morning, and began to traverse the wild and\nsavage glens which intersect the hills, where their progress might be\nguessed at by the reports of their guns, which gradually became fainter\nand fainter among the mountains, and at last died away altogether in the\ndistance.\n\nThat night and the following day passed, and they did not return to the\nhouse of their friends; but the weather being extremely fine, it was\nsupposed they had extended their excursion to the opposite coast of\nCaithness, or to some of the neighbouring islands, so that their absence\ncreated no alarm whatever.\n\nThe same conjectures also quieted the anxieties of the bride, until the\nmorning previous to that of the marriage, when her alarm could no longer\nbe suppressed. A boat was manned in all haste, and dispatched to Hoy in\nquest of them, but did not return that day nor the succeeding night.\n\nThe morning of the wedding day dawned at last bright and beautiful,\nbut still no intelligence arrived of the bridegroom and his party; and\nthe hope which lingered to the last, that they would still make their\nappearance in time, had prevented the invitations from being postponed,\nso that the marriage party began to assemble about midday.\n\nWhile the friends were all in amazement, and the bride in a most pitiable\nstate, a boat was seen crossing from Hoy, and hope once more began to\nrevive; but, when her passengers landed, they turned out to be the\nmembers of the family invited from that island, whose surprise at finding\nhow matters stood was equal to that of the other friends.\n\nMeantime all parties united in their endeavours to cheer the poor bride,\nfor which purpose it was agreed that the company should remain, and that\nthe festivities should go on\u2014an arrangement to which the guests the more\nwillingly consented, from a lingering hope that the absentees would still\nmake their appearance, and partly with a view to divert in some measure\nthe painful suspense of the bride; while she, on the other hand, from\nfeelings of hospitality, exerted herself, though with a heavy heart, to\nmake her guests as comfortable as possible, and by the very endeavour to\nput on an appearance of tranquillity acquired so much of the reality as\nto prevent her from sinking altogether under the weight of her fears.\n\nMeantime the day advanced, the festivities went on, and the glass began\nto circulate freely. The absence of the principal actor of the scene\nwas so far forgotten that at length the music struck up, and dancing\ncommenced with all the animation which that exercise inspires.\n\nThings were going on in this way when, towards night, and during one of\nthe pauses of the dance, a loud rap was heard at the door, and a gleam\nof hope was seen to lighten every face, when there entered, not the\nbridegroom and his party, but a wandering lunatic named Annie Fae, well\nknown and not a little feared in all that countryside. Her garments were\nlittle else than a collection of fantastic and parti-coloured rags, bound\nclose around her waist with a girdle of straw, and her head had no other\ncovering than the dark tangled locks that hung, snake-like, over her wild\nand weather-beaten face, from which peered forth her small, deep, sunk\neyes, gleaming with the light of insanity.\n\nBefore the surprise and dismay excited by her sudden and unwelcome\nappearance had subsided, she addressed the company in the following wild\nand incoherent manner,\u2014\n\n\u201cHech, sirs, but here\u2019s a merry meeting indeed. Plenty o\u2019 gude meat and\ndrink here, and nae expense spared! Aweel, it\u2019s no a\u2019 lost neither; this\nblithe bridal will mak\u2019 a braw burial, and the same feast will do for\nbaith. But I\u2019ll no detain you langer, but jog on upon my journey; only I\nwad juist hint that, for decency sake, ye suld stop that fine fiddling\nand dancing.\u201d\n\nHaving thus spoken, she made a low curtsy, and hurried out of the house,\nleaving the company in that state of painful excitement which, in such\ncircumstances, even the ravings of a poor deranged wanderer could not\nfail to produce.\n\nIn this state we too may leave them for the present, and proceed with the\nparty who had set off on the preceding day in search of the bridegroom\nand his friends. The latter were traced to Rackwick; but there no\nintelligence could be gained, except that some days previous a boat,\nhaving on board several sportsmen, had been seen putting off from the\nshore, and sailing away in the direction of Sule Skerry.\n\nThe weather continuing fine, the searching party hired a large boat,\nand proceeded to that remote and solitary rock, upon which, as they\nneared it, they could discover nothing, except swarms of seals, which\nimmediately began to flounder towards the water\u2019s edge. A large flock\nof sea-fowl arose from the centre of the rock with a deafening scream;\nand upon approaching the spot, they beheld, with dumb amazement and\nhorror, the dead bodies of the party of whom they had come in search,\nbut so mangled and disfigured by the sea-fowl that they could barely be\nrecognized.\n\nIt appeared that these unfortunates upon landing had forgotten their guns\nin the boat, which had slipped from her fastenings, and left them upon\nthe rock, where they had at last perished of cold and hunger.\n\nFancy can but feebly conceive, and still less can words describe, the\nfeelings with which the lost men must have beheld their bark drifting\naway over the face of the waters, and found themselves abandoned in the\nvast solitude of the ocean.\n\nWith what agony must they have gazed upon the distant sails, gliding over\nthe deep, but keeping far aloof from the rock of desolation. How must\ntheir horrors have been aggravated by the far-off view of their native\nhills, lifting their lonely peaks above the wave, and awakening the\ndreadful consciousness that they were still within the grasp of humanity,\nand yet no arm was stretched forth to save them; while the sun was riding\nhigh in the heavens, and the sea basking in his beams below, and Nature\nlooking with reckless smiles upon their dying agonies!\n\nAs soon as the stupor of horror and amazement had subsided, the party\nplaced the dead bodies in their boat, and, crowding all sail, stood for\nthe Orkneys. They landed at night upon the beach, immediately below the\nhouse where the wedding guests were assembled; and there, while debating\nin what manner to proceed, they were overheard by the insane wanderer,\nthe result of whose visit has already been recorded.\n\nShe had scarcely left the house, when a low sound of voices was heard\napproaching. An exclamation of joy broke from the bride. She rushed out\nof the house with outstretched arms to embrace her lover, and the next\nmoment, with a fearful shriek, fell upon his corpse! With that shriek\nreason and memory passed away for ever. She was carried back delirious,\nand died towards morning. The bridal was changed into a burial, and Helen\nWaters and her lover slept in the same grave!\n\n JOHN MALCOLM. (_Adapted._)\n (Native of Firth, Orkney; 1795-1845.)\n\n\n\n\nA LEGEND OF BORAY ISLAND.[1]\n\n\n In the far-off Northern Islands,\n Where the wild waves ever flow,\n I have heard a wondrous legend\n Of the days of long ago.\n\n There, amid the circling waters,\n Boray Isle lies all alone,\n Silent ever, save at nightfall\n On the eve of good St. John.[2]\n\n Those who in the faith of Odin\n \u2019Neath the waves have sunk for aye,\n Are as sea-beasts doomed to wander\n Till the dawn of Judgment Day.\n\n Once a year on Boray Island\n They revisit scenes of earth,\n And, their ancient forms resuming,\n Hold their wild unhallowed mirth.\n\n On the shore their sealskins leaving,\n They in revels pass the time,\n Till the midnight hour resoundeth\n From St. Magnus\u2019 distant chime.\n\n At the solemn knell the dancers\n In wild haste their guise regain,\n And as seals once more appearing\n Plunge below the waves again.\n\n Long ago a Northern fisher\n In a storm was left alone,\n And to Boray Isle was driven\n On the eve of good St. John.\n\n There saw the ghostly revels\u2014\n Music wild fell on his ear;\n And he snatched a cast-off sealskin,\n And he hid in mortal fear.\n\n All the evening long he watched them,\n Till he heard St. Magnus\u2019 chime\u2014\n Twelve deep tones proclaimed the hour\n When was o\u2019er the fated time.\n\n At the solemn knell the dancers\n In wild haste their guise regain\u2014\n All save one; a fair sea-maiden,\n Seeking for her robe in vain.\n\n All the others plunged and left her,\n And no more could Eric bide,\n But his friendly shelter leaving,\n Hurried to the maiden\u2019s side.\n\n Flung his fisher mantle round her;\n With the Cross he signed her o\u2019er;\n And with loving words addressed her,\n Bidding her to fear no more.\n\n \u201cFairest one! no longer fated\n As a wild sea-beast to roam,\n Come and be my bride, my treasure,\n Mistress of my hearth and home.\n\n \u201cThou shalt be a christened woman\n By the help of good St. John,\n And at blessed Magnus\u2019 altar\n Holy Church shall make us one.\u201d\n\n So he spake, and so he won her,\n And he took her to his home;\n \u2018Margaret\u2019 was the name they gave her,\n \u2018Pearl\u2019 cast up from Ocean\u2019s foam.\n\n Three bright years they dwelt together,\n Love and joy around her grew;\n Every day he blessed the tempest\n That his bark on Boray threw.\n\n But when spring three times had circled,\n Margaret\u2019s cheek was thin and white;\n Day by day her strength departed,\n And she faded in his sight.\n\n Then she spoke, and thus she bade him:\n \u201cDeath\u2019s cold touch is on my heart,\n But in peace from this dear homestead\n Soul and body cannot part\n\n \u201cTill I know my fate for certain\u2014\n If the holy water shed\n On my christened brow will save me\n From the doom of Odin\u2019s dead.\n\n \u201cRow me in your skiff, my husband,\n On the eve of good St. John;\n Take me back to Boray Island,\n Lay me on the sands adown.\n\n \u201cClasping fast the Cross of Jesus,\n I must meet the dead alone;\n If they still have power o\u2019er me,\n Ere day breaks I shall be gone.\n\n \u201cAll alone you needs must leave me;\n Pass in fast and prayer the time;\n And return when o\u2019er the waters\n Peals St. Magnus\u2019 midnight chime.\n\n \u201cAnd if Cross and Chrism guard me\n From the sway of spirits foul,\n Then, my husband, know for certain\n Christ will save my ransomed soul.\u201d\n\n All her bidding he accomplished,\n Though his heart was sad and sore:\n On the fated eve he took her,\n Laid her down on Boray shore;\n\n Went where he no more could see her,\n To the islet\u2019s farthest bound.\n Soon he heard the ghostly dancers\n With wild cries his wife surround.\n\n All the evening long they tried her,\n Tempting her to turn again,\n With weird strains of love or threatening,\n To her life below the main.\n\n Sadly Eric watched and waited,\n Passed in fast and prayer the time,\n Till at last, o\u2019er rippling water,\n Pealed St. Magnus\u2019 midnight chime.\n\n Then he rose, and hastened to her;\n Found her on the lonely sands,\n Lying with the Cross of Jesus\n Clasp\u00e8d in her folded hands.\n\n To the Islands of the Blessed\n Margaret\u2019s ransomed soul had fled,\n And a smile of victory lingered\n On her lips, though cold and dead.\n\n ALICE L. DUNDAS\n (The Honourable Mrs. John Dundas).\n\n[1] Boray Island, or Holm of Boray, off Millburn Bay in Gairsay.\n\n[2] Midsummer Eve.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nSONGS OF THE GODS.\n\n\nThe Challenge of Thor.\n\n I am the God Thor,\n I am the War God,\n I am the Thunderer!\n Here in my Northland,\n My fastness and fortress,\n Reign I for ever!\n\n Here amid icebergs\n Rule I the nations.\n This is my hammer,\n Mi\u00f6lner the mighty;\n Giants and sorcerers\n Cannot withstand it!\n\n These are the gauntlets\n Wherewith I wield it\n And hurl it afar off.\n This is my girdle;\n Whenever I brace it\n Strength is redoubled!\n\n The light thou beholdest\n Stream through the heavens\n In flashes of crimson\n Is but my red beard\n Blown by the night-wind,\n Affrighting the nations!\n\n Jove is my brother;\n Mine eyes are the lightning;\n The wheels of my chariot\n Roll in the thunder,\n The blows of my hammer\n Ring in the earthquake!\n\n Force rules the world still,\n Has ruled it, shall rule it;\n Meekness is weakness,\n Strength is triumphant,\n Over the whole earth\n Still is it Thor\u2019s Day!\n\n Thou art a God too.\n O Galilean!\n And thus single-handed\n Unto the combat,\n Gauntlet or Gospel,\n Here I defy Thee!\n\n LONGFELLOW.\n\n\nTegner\u2019s Drapa.[3]\n\n I heard a voice that cried,\n \u201cBalder the Beautiful\n Is dead, is dead!\u201d\n And through the misty air\n Passed like the mournful cry\n Of sunward sailing cranes.\n\n I saw the pallid corpse\n Of the dead sun\n Borne through the Northern sky.\n Blasts from Niffelheim\n Lifted the sheeted mists\n Around him as he passed.\n\n And the voice for ever cried,\n \u201cBalder the Beautiful\n Is dead, is dead!\u201d\n And died away\n Through the dreary night,\n In accents of despair.\n\n Balder the Beautiful,\n God of the summer sun,\n Fairest of all the Gods!\n Light from his forehead beamed,\n Runes were upon his tongue,\n As on the warrior\u2019s sword.\n\n All things in earth and air\n Bound were by magic spell\n Never to do him harm;\n Even the plants and stones\u2014\n All save the mistletoe,\n The sacred mistletoe!\n\n H\u0153der, the blind old God,\n Whose feet are shod with silence,\n Pierced through that gentle breast\n With his sharp spear, by fraud\n Made of the mistletoe,\n The accursed mistletoe!\n\n They laid him in his ship,\n With horse and harness,\n As on a funeral pyre.\n Odin placed\n A ring upon his finger,\n And whispered in his ear.\n\n They launched the burning ship!\n It floated far away\n Over the misty sea,\n Till like the sun it seemed,\n Sinking beneath the waves.\n Balder returned no more!\n\n So perish the old Gods!\n But out of the sea of Time\n Rises a new land of song,\n Fairer than the old.\n Over its meadows green\n Walk the young bards and sing.\n\n Build it again,\n O ye bards,\n Fairer than before!\n Ye fathers of the new race,\n Feed upon morning dew,\n Sing the new Song of Love!\n\n The law of force is dead!\n The law of love prevails!\n Thor, the Thunderer,\n Shall rule the earth no more,\n No more, with threats,\n Challenge the meek Christ.\n\n Sing no more,\n O ye bards of the North,\n Of Vikings and of Jarls!\n Of the days of Eld\n Preserve the freedom only,\n Not the deeds of blood.\n\n LONGFELLOW.\n\n[3] The Song of Tegner, a Swedish poet.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SONG OF HAROLD HARFAGER.\n\n\n The sun is rising dimly red,\n The wind is wailing low and dread;\n From his cliff the eagle sallies,\n Leaves the wolf his darksome valleys;\n In the mist the ravens hover,\n Peep the wild-dogs from the cover\u2014\n Screaming, croaking, baying, yelling,\n Each in his wild accents telling,\n \u201cSoon we feast on dead and dying,\n Fair-haired Harold\u2019s flag is flying.\u201d\n\n Many a crest in air is streaming,\n Many a helmet darkly gleaming,\n Many an arm the axe uprears,\n Doomed to hew the wood of spears.\n All along the crowded ranks,\n Horses neigh and armour clanks,\n Chiefs are shouting, clarions ringing,\n Louder still the bard is singing,\n \u201cGather, footmen\u2014gather, horsemen,\n To the field, ye valiant Norsemen!\n\n \u201cHalt ye not for food or slumber,\n View not vantage, count not number;\n Jolly reapers, forward still;\n Grow the crop on vale or hill,\n Thick or scattered, stiff or lithe,\n It shall down before the scythe.\n Forward with your sickles bright,\n Reap the harvest of the fight\u2014\n Onward, footmen\u2014onward, horsemen,\n To the charge, ye gallant Norsemen!\n\n \u201cFatal choosers of the slaughter,\n O\u2019er you hovers Odin\u2019s daughter;\n Hear the choice she spreads before ye\u2014\n Victory, and wealth, and glory;\n Or old Valhalla\u2019s roaring Hail,\n Her ever-circling mead and ale,\n Where for eternity unite\n The joys of wassail and of fight.\n Headlong forward, foot and horsemen,\n Charge and fight, and die like Norsemen!\u201d\n\n SIR WALTER SCOTT.\n\n[Illustration: _A woodland path, Binscarth._]\n\n\n\n\nKING HACON\u2019S LAST BATTLE.\n\n\n All was over; day was ending\n As the foemen turned and fled.\n Gloomy red\n Glowed the angry sun descending;\n While round Hacon\u2019s dying bed\n Tears and songs of triumph blending\n Told how fast the conqueror bled.\n\n \u201cRaise me,\u201d said the king. We raised him\u2014\n Not to ease his desperate pain;\n That were vain!\n \u201cStrong our foe was\u2014but we faced him:\n Show me that red field again.\u201d\n Then with reverent hands we placed him\n High above the battle plain.\n\n Sudden on our startled hearing\n Came the low-breathed, stern command,\u2014\n \u201cLo! ye stand?\n Linger not\u2014the night is nearing;\n Bear me downwards to the strand,\n Where my ships are idly steering\n Off and on, in sight of land.\u201d\n\n Every whispered word obeying,\n Swift we bore him down the steep,\n O\u2019er the deep,\n Up the tall ship\u2019s side, low swaying\n To the storm-wind\u2019s powerful sweep,\n And his dead companions laying\n Round him\u2014we had time to weep.\n\n But the king said, \u201cPeace! bring hither\n Spoils and weapons, battle-strown\u2014\n Make no moan;\n Leave me and my dead together;\n Light my torch, and then\u2014begone.\u201d\n But we murmured, each to other,\n \u201cCan we leave him thus alone?\u201d\n\n Angrily the king replieth;\n Flashed the awful eye again\n With disdain:\n \u201cCall him not _alone_ who lieth\n Low among such noble slain;\n Call him not _alone_ who dieth\n Side by side with gallant men.\u201d\n\n Slowly, sadly we departed;\n Reached again that desolate shore,\n Never more\n Trod by him, the brave, true-hearted,\n Dying in that dark ship\u2019s core!\n Sadder keel from land ne\u2019er parted,\n Nobler freight none ever bore!\n\n There we lingered, seaward gazing,\n Watching o\u2019er that living tomb,\n Through the gloom\u2014\n Gloom which awful light is chasing\u2014\n Blood-red flames the surge illume!\n Lo! King Hacon\u2019s ship is blazing;\n \u2019Tis the hero\u2019s self-sought doom.\n\n Right before the wild wind driving,\n Madly plunging\u2014stung by fire\u2014\n No help nigh her\u2014\n Lo! the ship has ceased her striving!\n Mount the red flames higher, higher,\n Till, on ocean\u2019s verge arriving,\n Sudden sinks the Viking\u2019s pyre\u2014\n Hacon\u2019s gone!\n\n LORD DUFFERIN.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEATH OF HACO.\n\n\n The summer is gone, Haco, Haco;\n The yellow year is fled;\n And the winter is come, Haco,\n That numbers thee with the dead!\n\n When the year was young, Haco, Haco,\n And the skies were blue and bright,\n Thou didst sweep the seas, Haco,\n Like a bird with wings of might.\n\n With thine oaken galley, proudly,\n And thy gilded dragon-prow,\n O\u2019er the bounding billows, Haco,\n Like a sea-god thou didst go.\n\n With thy barons gaily, gaily,\n All in proof of burnished mail,\n In the voes of Orkney, Haco,\n Thou didst spread thy prideful sail;\n\n And the sturdy men of Caithness,\n And the land of the Mackay,\n And the men of Stony Parf, Haco,\n Knew that Norway\u2019s king was nigh.\n\n And the men of utmost Lewis, Haco,\n And Skye, with winding kyles,\n And Macdougall\u2019s country, Haco,\n Knew the monarch of the isles.\n\n And the granite peaks of Arran,\n And the rocks that fence the Clyde,\n Saw thy daring Norsemen, Haco,\n Ramping o\u2019er the Scottish tide.\n\n But scaith befell thee, Haco, Haco!\n Thou wert faithful, thou wert brave;\n But not truth might shield thee, Haco,\n From a false and shuffling knave.\n\n The crafty King of Scots, Haco,\n Who might not bar thy way,\n Beguiled thee, honest Haco,\n With lies that bred delay.\n\n And hasty winter, Haco, Haco,\n Came and tripped the summer\u2019s heels,\n And rent the sails of Haco\n And swamped his conquering keels.\n\n Woe is me for Haco, Haco!\n On Lorn and Mull and Skye\n The hundred ships of Haco\n In a thousand fragments lie!\n\n And thine oaken galley, Haco,\n That sailed with kingly pride,\n Came shorn and shattered, Haco,\n Through the foaming Pentland tide.\n\n And thy heart sunk, Haco, Haco,\n And thou felt that thou must die,\n When the bay of Kirkwall, Haco,\n Thou beheld with drooping eye.\n\n And they led thee, Haco, Haco,\n To the bishop\u2019s lordly hall,\n Where thy woe-struck barons, Haco,\n Stood to see the mighty fall.\n\n And the purple churchmen, Haco,\n Stood to hold thy royal head,\n And good words of hope to Haco\n From the Holy Book they read.\n\n Then out spake the dying Haco,\n \u201cDear are God\u2019s dear words to me,\n But read the book to Haco\n Of the kings that ruled the sea.\u201d\n\n Then they read to dying Haco\n From the ancient saga hoar,\n Of Holden and of Harold,\n When his fathers worshipped Thor,\n\n And they shrove the dying Haco,\n And they prayed his bed beside;\n And with holy unction Haco\n Drooped his kingly head and died.\n\n And in parade of death, Haco,\n They stretched thee on thy bed,\n With a purple vest for Haco,\n And a garland on his head.\n\n And around thee, Haco, Haco,\n Were tapers burning bright,\n And masses were sung for Haco\n By day and eke by night.\n\n And they bore thee, Haco, Haco,\n To holy Magnus\u2019 shrine,\n And beside his sainted bones, Haco,\n They chastely coffined thine.\n\n And above thee, Haco, Haco,\n To deck thy dreamless bed,\n All crisp with gold for Haco,\n A purple pall they spread.\n\n And around thee, Haco, Haco,\n Where the iron sleep thou slept,\n Through the long, dark winter, Haco,\n A solemn watch they kept.\n\n And at early burst of springtime,\n When the birds sang out with glee,\n They took the body of Haco\n In a ship across the sea\u2014\n\n Across the sea to Norway,\n Where thy sires make moan for thee,\n That the last of his race was Haco,\n Who ruled the Western Sea.\n\n And they laid thee, Haco, Haco,\n With thy sires on the Norway shore,\n And far from the isles of the sea, Haco,\n That know thy name no more.\n\n JOHN STUART BLACKIE.\n (_From \u201cLays of the Highlands and Islands.\u201d By permission\n of the Walter Scott Publishing Company._)\n\n[Illustration: _A modern war-fleet in Kirkwall Bay._]\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD MAN OF HOY.\n\n\n The Old Man of Hoy\n Looks out on the sea,\n Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free;\n He looks on the broad Atlantic sea,\n And the Old Man of Hoy\n Hath this great joy,\n To hear the deep roar of the wide blue ocean,\n And to stand unmoved \u2019mid the sleepless motion,\n And to feel o\u2019er his head\n The white foam spread\n From the wild wave proudly swelling;\n And to care no whit\n For the storm\u2019s rude fit,\n Where he stands on his old rock-dwelling\u2014\n This rare Old Man of Hoy.\n\n The Old Man of Hoy\n Looks out on the sea,\n Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free;\n He looks on the broad Atlantic sea,\n And the Old Man of Hoy\n Hath this great joy,\n To look on the flight of the wild seamew,\n With their hoar nests hung o\u2019er the waters blue;\n To see them swing\n On plunging wing,\n And to hear their shrill notes swelling,\n And with them to reply\n To the storm\u2019s war-cry,\n As he stands on his old rock-dwelling\u2014\n This rare Old Man of Hoy....\n\n The Old Man of Hoy\n Looks out on the sea,\n Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free;\n He looks on the broad Atlantic sea,\n And the Old Man of Hoy\n Hath this great joy,\n To think on the pride of the sea-kings old\u2014\n Harolds and Ronalds and Sigurds bold\u2014\n Whose might was felt\n By the cowering Celt\n When he heard their war-cry yelling.\n But the sea-kings are gone,\n And he stands alone,\n Firm on his old rock-dwelling\u2014\n This stout Old Man of Hoy.\n\n But listen to me,\n Old Man of the Sea,\n List to the Skulda that speaketh by me:\n The Nornies are weaving a web for thee,\n Thou Old Man of Hoy,\n To ruin thy joy,\n And to make thee shrink from the lash of the ocean,\n And teach thee to quake with a strange commotion,\n When over thy head\n And under thy bed\n The rampant wave is swelling;\n And thou shalt die\n \u2019Neath a pitiless sky,\n And reel from thy old rock-dwelling\u2014\n Thou stout Old Man of Hoy!\n\n JOHN STUART BLACKIE.\n (_From \u201cLays of the Highlands and Islands.\u201d By permission\n of the Walter Scott Publishing Company._)\n\n\n\n\nORKNEY.\n\n\n The parting beam of autumn smiles\n A farewell o\u2019er these lonely isles;\n Capped with its fire, the mountains soar\n Like lighted beacons on the shore,\n While far beneath, in depth profound,\n The tides roll through each darksome sound\u2014\n Those passes where the troubled sea\n Hurries with roar and revelry;\n Where waves dash on in headlong haste,\n By a wide world of waters prest.\n Here ruined hall and nodding tower\n Hint darkly at departed power,\n Their domeless walls, time-worn and gray,\n Give dimly back the evening ray,\n Like gleams from days long past away.\n\n Saint Magnus! pile of ages fled,\n Thou temple of the quick and dead!\n While they who raised thy form sublime\n Have faded from the things of time;\n While hands that reared, and heads that planned,\n Have passed into the silent land,\n Still hath thy mighty fabric stood\n \u2019Mid sweeping blast and sheeted flood.\n Above thy tower and turrets tall\n The thunder-cloud hath spread its pall, ...\n And muttered o\u2019er thine airy height\n Its bursting accents to the night:\n Though oft the wild and wintry storm\n Hath reeled around thy towering form,\n The mighty pile still proudly rears\n Its head above the wreck of years.\n\n As through thy pillared aisles I tread,\n Where rest the gone forgotten dead,\n Each step a mournful echo calls\n To wander through the dreary walls;\n The sullen sounds they backward throw,\n Which falter into whispers low.\n Each tombstone\u2019s frail and crumbling frame\n Preserves not e\u2019en an airy name;\n The lines by Friendship\u2019s fingers traced,\n Now touched by Time\u2019s, are half effaced;\n The few faint letters lingering still\n Are all the dead man\u2019s chronicle.\n\n How often have the guests who ranged\n Thy sacred labyrinths been changed!\n Of crowds, who sang their anthems here,\n How still each tongue\u2014how deaf each ear!...\n\n But thou like them must pass away\n Beneath the hand of pale decay;\n Even now thy towering turrets feel\n The weight of ages o\u2019er them steal;\n Thy summit in its airy waste\n Rocks to the rude and rushing blast;\n When years that wander o\u2019er thee call\n Thy time-struck fabric to its fall,\n Thy mouldering columns lone and gray\n Shall shelter then the bird of prey;\n Each worshipless recess shall be\n Place for their frightful revelry;\n The raven\u2019s hoarse and funeral note\n Shall o\u2019er sepulchral ruins float....\n\n Still doth the ruined palace stand,\n A crumbling relic in the land\u2014Tenantless\n fabric, huge and high,\n And proud in ruined majesty;\n The verdant ivy robes thy wall,\n Weeds are the dwellers in thy hall,\n And in the wind the tufted grass\n Waves o\u2019er thy dim and mouldering mass,\n And freshly each returning spring\n Blooms o\u2019er thy mortal withering.\n On darkening piles, and waning wrecks,\n A gay green garment oft is spread;\n For ruin, as in mockery, decks\n The faded victims she hath made.\n\n With time and tempest thou art bent,\n A drear, neglected monument,\n Lorn as some frail and aged one\n Who lives when all his friends are gone!\u2014\n Where is thy voice of music?\u2014where\n The strains that hushed the midnight air,\n When Beauty woke her witching song,\n And spellbound held the festive throng?\u2014\n A narrow and a nameless grave\n Hath closed upon the fair and brave,\n And all around is deadly still,\n Save when, from some high pinnacle,\n The raven\u2019s croak, or owlet\u2019s wail,\n Blends with the sighing of the gale....\n\n The hoary rocks, of giant size,\n That o\u2019er the land in circles rise,\n Of which tradition may not tell,\n Fit circles for the wizard\u2019s spell,\n Seen far amidst the scowling storm,\n Seem each a tall and phantom form,\n As hurrying vapours o\u2019er them flee,\n Frowning in grim society,\n While like a dread voice from the past\n Around them mourns the autumnal blast....\n\n Yet not the works of man alone,\n Though hallowed by long ages gone,\n Charm us away in musing mood;\n Bear witness each grim solitude,\n \u2019Mid Hoy\u2019s high shadowy mountain walls\n Where mournfully the twilight falls:\n There bosomed in a deep recess\n Sleeps a dim vale of loneliness,\n The circling hills, all bleak and wild,\n Are o\u2019er its slumbers darkly piled,\n Save on one side, where far below\n The everlasting waters flow,\n And round the precipices vast\n Dance to the music of the blast....\n\n There rocks of ages sternly throw\n Their shadows o\u2019er a world below,\n And fierce and fast each dark-brown flood\n Careering comes in maddening mood:\n O\u2019er the sheer cliffs the waters flash,\n And down in whitest columns dash,\n Till, far away, we scarce can hear\n Their dying falls and murmurs drear,\n As, bursting o\u2019er the dizzy verge,\n They melt into the boiling surge.\n\n Here, when, perchance, the voice of men\n Is heard within the fairy glen,\n Deep muttering echoes start around,\n And rocks of gloom fling back the sound,\n While from their fragments, rent and riven,\n A thousand airy dwellers driven,\n Send forth a wild and dreary scream.\n Like such as breaks a fearful dream\n When Conscience to the sleeper\u2019s gaze\n Holds up the view of other days....\n\n When, by Night\u2019s mantle hooded o\u2019er,\n The heaving hills are seen no more,\n Oft blended with the torrent\u2019s dash\n Are heard the thunder\u2019s startling crash,\n And burst of billows on the shore,\n Like cannon\u2019s deep and distant roar,\n By echoes answered loud and fast,\n That gallop on the midnight blast,\n As if the Spirit of the vale\n Heard in his cave the stormy wail,\n And to the tempest rolling by\n Shrieked loud his frightful mockery....\n\n Where cairns of slumbering chiefs are piled,\n And frown above the waters wild,\n Rear their hoar heads, forlorn and dim,\n Upon the ocean\u2019s lonely brim,\n There the fierce storm and maddening surge\n Howl loud and long the warrior\u2019s dirge,\n And blended there together rave\n Through many a deep and dreary cave,\n And waken from their sullen lair\n Sea-monsters, darkly slumbering there.\n\n Seen from those death-towers of the flood,\n The ocean\u2019s mighty solitude\n Widens through boundless space around,\n Vast, melancholy, lone, profound;\n So vast that thought with weary wing\n Droops o\u2019er its distant wandering,\n And, left behind, again returns\n To muse upon the mouldering urns....\n\n As the rude brush of evening\u2019s wind\n Leaves not a lingering trace behind\n Of landscapes living in the stream,\n Like the dim scenery of a dream\n Called up by Fancy\u2019s wizard wand,\n When Sense is sealed by Slumber\u2019s hand;\n So Time\u2019s drear blast hath swept along\n Alike from record and from song\n Their very names, who now lie hid\n Beneath each dusky pyramid;\n And all that hint of them are graves\n Where the green flag of ruin waves,\n Or crumbling remnant of the past\n That ivy shelters from the blast,\n And clings to still when others flee,\n Like true love in adversity.\n\n On Noltland\u2019s solitary pile\n The last blush of the dying day\n Plays like a melancholy smile\n And hectic glow on pale decay ...\n The moss of years is on the wall,\n And fitfully the night-winds start\n Through Bothwell\u2019s roofless ruined hall,\n Like sobs of sorrow from the heart;\n Upon each floor of cold, damp sod\n The clustering weeds like hearse-plumes nod;\n Through chambers desolate and green\n Hoots the gray owl at evening\u2019s close.\n Meant for far other guests, I ween\u2014\n Where wave-worn Beauty might repose,\n And find that bliss in Love\u2019s caress\n Which hallows scenes of loneliness.\n\n See Hoy\u2019s Old Man, whose summit bare\n Pierces the dark-blue fields of air,\n Based in the sea, his fearful form\n Glooms like the spirit of the storm,\n An ocean Babel, rent and worn\n By time and tide\u2014all wild and lorn\u2014\n A giant that hath warred with heaven,\n Whose ruined scalp seems thunder-riven,\n Whose form the misty spray doth shroud,\n Whose head the dark and hovering cloud,\n Around his dread and lowering mass,\n In sailing swarms the sea-fowl pass,\n But when the night-cloud o\u2019er the sea\n Hangs like a sable canopy,\n And when the flying storm doth scourge\n Around his base the rushing surge,\n Swift to his airy clefts they soar,\n And sleep amidst the tempest\u2019s roar,\n Or with its howling round his peak\n Mingle their drear and dreamy shriek.\n\n The dying day has had its rest\n Upon the mountain\u2019s lofty crest;\n Now, o\u2019er the ocean it has fled,\n And to the past is gathered;\n From stunted shrubs of foliage bared\n The farewell melodies are heard;\n The twilight spreads a duskier veil\n Upon the deep and lonely dale,\n And, moaning to the evening star,\n The mountain stream is heard afar.\n The twilight fades and night again\n Claims from our time her portioned reign;\n Earth sets, and leaves us to admire\n Yon vaulted canopy of fire,\n Those burning glories of the sky,\n Those \u201csparks of immortality,\u201d\n Which shed from high their living light,\n And blaze through the blue depths of night....\n\n At such an hour, should music stray\n Soft from some isle, far, far away,\n It seems to charm to silent sleep\n The murmurs of the mighty deep;\n The torrent, as it speeds along,\n Stills its dark waters to the song,\n And the full bosom feels relief,\n Soothed by the mystic \u201cjoy of grief;\u201d\n Upon the heart-chords stealing slow,\n It hallows every cherished woe,\n And wakes sensations in the mind,\n Wild, beautiful, and undefined,\n As tones that harp-strings give the wind.\n\n Oh! at such soul-inspiring strain\n The wondrous links of memory\u2019s chain,\n Though scattered far, unite again,\n And Time and Distance strive in vain.\n Again Youth\u2019s fairy visions pass\n In morning glow o\u2019er Memory\u2019s glass,\n At every magic melting fall\n They come like echoes to their call,\n And with the dreams of vanished years\n Steal forth again our smiles and tears.\n\n JOHN MALCOLM.\n\n\n\n\nSCENES FROM \u201cTHE BUCCANEER.\u201d\n\n\nNight.\n\n Night walked in beauty o\u2019er the peaceful sea,\n Whose gentle waters spake tranquillity;\n With dreamy lull the rolling billow broke\n In hollow murmurs on the distant rock;\n The sea-bird wailed along the airy steep;\n The creak of distant oar was on the deep.\n So still the scene, the boatman\u2019s voice was heard;\n The listening ear could almost catch each word;\n From isles remote the house-dog\u2019s fitful bay\n Came floating o\u2019er the waters far away;\n And homeward wending o\u2019er the silent hill,\n The lonely shepherd\u2019s song and whistle shrill;\n The lulling murmur of the mountain flood,\n That sung its night-hymn to the solitude;\n The curlew\u2019s wild and desolate farewell,\n As slow she sailed adown the darksome dell;\n The heathcock whirring o\u2019er the heathy vale;\n The mateless plover\u2019s far-forsaken wail;\n The rush of tides that round the islands ran,\n And danced like maniacs in the moonlight wan,\u2014\n All formed a scene so wild, and yet so fair,\n As might have wooed the heart from dreams of care,\n If aught had charms to soothe, or balm to heal,\n The pangs that guilt is ever doomed to feel....\n\n\nMorning.\n\n Day dawns, and from the main the mist is furled,\n The night-cloak of a solitary world;\n And slow emerging from the fleecy cloud\n The mountains soar like giants from the shroud.\n High o\u2019er the rest, and towering to the storm,\n Glooms o\u2019er the ocean Hoy\u2019s majestic form;\n From his lone head, as roll the clouds away,\n Behold Creation bursting into day,\n As first it broke from night and nothingness,\n When the Great Spirit brooded o\u2019er the abyss.\n How calm and clear the boundless waters seem,\n As if awakening from a heavenly dream;\n The little isles within their bosom lie,\n Like dwellers in a bright infinity;\n The crag terrific beetling o\u2019er the west\n Beholds the heaven reflected in their breast.\n The dark-brown hills embrace each silent bay\n That loves amid their solitude to stray;\n And far beneath, with low sepulchral sound,\n Moans the dark torrent through the dell profound;\n And from the thunder-throne, the mountain cairn,\n Shrieks to the waste the solitary erne....\n Scenes of my song, of earliest smiles and tears,\n Ye wake the memories of departed years!\n The distant murmur of your mountain streams\n Steals o\u2019er my spirit with departed dreams,\n With many a tale and recollected lay,\n Which, like the twilight of an autumn day,\n Faint on your shores, of wonderful and wild,\n Meet for the musing moods of Fancy\u2019s child.\n There have I roamed o\u2019er many a soaring steep\n When the last day-gleam died along the deep,\n And o\u2019er the still and solitary land,\n The distant music of the reaper band\n Came soft and mournful on the pensive soul,\n As mermaid\u2019s siren song o\u2019er ocean\u2019s roll.\n There have I gazed upon the pathless seas,\n As on the gates of two eternities\u2014\n Far east, where future days shall gild the wave,\n And west, where all the past hath found a grave.\n\n JOHN MALCOLM.\n\n\n\n\nTO ORKNEY.\n\n\n Land of the whirlpool, torrent, foam,\n Where oceans meet in maddening shock;\n The beetling cliff, the shelving holm,\n The dark, insidious rock;\n Land of the bleak, the treeless moor,\n The sterile mountain, seared and riven;\n The shapeless cairn, the ruined tower,\n Scathed by the bolts of heaven;\n The yawning gulf, the treacherous sand;\u2014\n I love thee still, my native land!\n\n Land of the dark, the Runic rhyme,\n The mystic ring, the cavern hoar,\n The Scandinavian seer, sublime\n In legendary lore;\n Land of a thousand sea-kings\u2019 graves\u2014\n Those tameless spirits of the past,\n Fierce as their subject Arctic waves,\n Or hyperborean blast;\n Though polar billows round thee foam,\n I love thee!\u2014thou wert once my home.\n\n With glowing heart and island lyre,\n Ah! would some native bard arise\n To sing, with all a poet\u2019s fire,\n Thy stern sublimities\u2014\n The roaring flood, the rushing stream,\n The promontory wild and bare,\n The pyramid where sea-birds scream\n Aloft in middle air,\n The Druid temple on the heath,\n Old even beyond tradition\u2019s breath.\n\n Though I have roamed through verdant glades,\n In cloudless climes, \u2019neath azure skies;\n Or plucked from beauteous Orient meads\n Flowers of celestial dyes;\n Though I have laved in limpid streams\n That murmur over golden sands,\n Or basked amid the fulgent beams\n That flame o\u2019er fairer lands;\n Or stretched me in the sparry grot,\u2014\n My country! thou wert ne\u2019er forgot.\n\n DAVID VEDDER.\n (Native of Deerness; 1790-1854.)\n\n\n\n\nTHE TEMPLE OF NATURE.\n\n\n Talk not of temples; there is _one_,\n Built without hands, to mankind given.\n Its lamps are the meridian sun\n And all the stars of heaven;\n Its walls are the cerulean sky;\n Its floor the earth so green and fair;\n The dome is vast immensity,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n The Alps, arrayed in stainless snow,\n The Andean ranges yet untrod,\n At sunrise and at sunset glow\n Like altar-fires to God!\n A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze,\n As if with hallowed victims rare;\n And thunder lifts its voice in praise,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n The ocean heaves resistlessly,\n And pours his glittering treasures forth;\n His waves, the priesthood of the sea,\n Kneel on the shell-gemmed earth,\n And there emit a hollow sound,\n As if they murmured praise and prayer;\n On every side \u2019tis hallowed ground,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n The grateful earth her odours yield\n In homage, Mighty One, to Thee,\n From herbs and flowers in every field,\n From fruit on every tree;\n The balmy dew, at morn and even,\n Seems like the penitential tear,\n Shed only in the sight of Heaven,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n The cedar and the mountain pine,\n The willow on the fountain\u2019s brim,\n The tulip and the eglantine,\n In reverence bend to Him;\n The song-birds pour their sweetest lays\n From tower, and tree, and middle air;\n The rushing river murmurs praise,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n Then talk not of a fane, save _one_,\n Built without hands, to mankind given.\n Its lamps are the meridian sun\n And all the stars of heaven;\n Its walls are the cerulean sky;\n Its floor the earth so green and fair;\n The dome is vast immensity,\u2014\n All nature worships there!\n\n DAVID VEDDER.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX I.\n\nCHRONOLOGY OF ORCADIAN HISTORY TO THE END OF THE EARLDOM, WITH RELATED\nCONTEMPORARY EVENTS.\n\n\nCertain historians assign earlier dates than those given below to the\nevents before 933. The chronology adopted here is that which harmonizes\nbest with the dates of events in other lands during that period.\nApproximate dates are marked \u201cc\u201d (circa); events not directly connected\nwith the Earldom are in square brackets, and their dates in lighter type.\n\n A.D.\n =78= (c.) Agricola\u2019s visit to Orkney.\n 563. [Columba in Scotland.]\n =580= (c.) Cormac\u2019s missionary journey to Orkney.\n 597. [Augustine in England.]\n 787. [First recorded appearance of Vikings in England.]\n 800 (c.) [First period of Norse colonization begins.]\n 841. [Rouen taken by the Norsemen.]\n 852. [Norse kingdom established in Dublin.]\n 862. [Rurik founds the Norse line in Russia.]\n 871. [Alfred the Great King of England.]\n 885. [Siege of Paris by the Norsemen.]\n =900.= Battle of Harfursfirth\u2014Second period of Norse colonization\n begins.\n \u2014 [Iceland colonized by Norsemen.]\n =901= (c.) Harald Fairhair in Orkney\u2014Earldom established.\n \u2014 Sigurd I. earl.\n =905= (c.) Battle with Maelbrigda of Ross\u2014Sigurd\u2019s death.\n \u2014 Guttorm, Sigurd\u2019s son, earl.\n =907= (c.) Hallad, son of Rognvald, Earl of Moeri, earl.\n =910.= Einar I. (Torf Einar), Rognvald\u2019s son, earl.\n 912. [Rolf or Rollo, Rognvald\u2019s son, Duke of Normandy.]\n =933.= Arnkell, Erlend I., and Thorfinn I., Einar\u2019s sons,\n joint-earls.\n 950. [King Eric (Bloody axe) expelled from Norway.]\n =954.= Eric and Earls Arnkell and Erlend fall at battle of\n Stainsmoor.\n =963.= Arnfinn, Havard, Ljot, and Hlodve, Thorfinn\u2019s sons,\n joint-earls.\n =980.= Sigurd II. (the Stout), Hlodve\u2019s son, earl.\n 980. [Discovery of Greenland by the Norsemen.]\n 986. [Discovery of America (Vinland) by the Norsemen.]\n =995.= Conversion of Sigurd to Christianity by Olaf Tryggvason.\n 998. [Olaf Tryggvason, King of Norway.]\n =1014.= Battle of Clontarf\u2014Death of Earl Sigurd.\n \u2014 Sumarlid, Einar II., Brusi, and (later) Thorfinn II.,\n Sigurd\u2019s sons, joint-earls.\n 1015. [Olaf the Saint King of Norway.]\n =1015.= Death of Earl Sumarlid.\n 1017. [Knut (Canute) King of England.]\n =1020.= Murder of Einar II.\n 1027. [Norse kingdom established in Southern Italy.]\n 1030. [Battle of Sticklestad\u2014Death of St. Olaf.]\n =1031.= Death of Earl Brusi\u2014Thorfinn II. sole earl.\n \u2014 Rognvald, Brusi\u2019s son, claims a share of the earldom.\n =1045.= Battle in the Pentland Firth between Rognvald and Thorfinn.\n =1046.= Murder of Rognvald in Papa Stronsay.\n 1056. [Malcolm Canmore King of Scotland.]\n =1057.= Christ\u2019s Kirk in Birsay founded.\n =1064.= Death of Thorfinn; his sons Paul I. and Erlend II.\n joint-earls.\n =1066.= Harald Hardradi visits Orkney.\n \u2014 Harold, Godwin\u2019s son, King of England.\n \u2014 Battle of Stamford Bridge.\n \u2014 Invasion of Duke William of Normandy\u2014Battle of Hastings.\n 1087. [Moorish Empire established in Spain.]\n 1096. [First Crusade.]\n =1098.= Magnus (Barefoot), King of Norway, sends the Orkney earls\n to Norway, and makes his son Sigurd \u201cKing\u201d of Orkney.\n 1103. [Death of Magnus\u2014Sigurd King of Norway.]\n =1103.= Hakon, Paul\u2019s son, and Magnus, Erlend\u2019s son, joint-earls.\n =1115.= Murder of Earl Magnus (St. Magnus) in Egilsay.\n =1122.= Death of Earl Hakon; his sons Harald I. and Paul II.\n joint-earls.\n =1127.= Death of Harald\u2014Paul sole earl.\n =1129.= Rognvald II. (Kali) appointed joint-earl by King Sigurd.\n =1135.= Rognvald\u2019s first expedition to claim the earldom.\n \u2014 St. Magnus Church, Egilsay, founded.\n =1136.= Rognvald\u2019s second expedition\u2014Earl Paul kidnapped by Sweyn\n Asleifson.\n =1137.= St. Magnus Cathedral founded.\n =1139.= Harald II. (Maddadson) joint-earl.\n =1151.= Crusaders winter in Orkney.\n =1152.= Earl Rognvald\u2019s Crusade to Jerusalem.\n =1154.= Erlend III. joint-earl.\n =1156.= Death of Erlend III.\n =1158.= Earl Rognvald killed.\n =1171.= Sweyn Asleifson\u2019s last cruise and death at Dublin.\n 1171. [English invasion of Ireland.]\n =1175.= Abbot Laurentius transferred from Orkney (Eynhallow) to\n Melrose.\n 1194. [Battle of Floravoe, near Bergen; defeat of the\n \u201cIsland-beardies.\u201d]\n =1196.= Shetland separated from the Orkney earldom.\n =1197.= Harald III. (the Young), grandson of Rognvald, joint-earl.\n =1198.= Death of Harald the Young.\n =1206.= Death of Earl Harald II. (Maddadson); his sons David and\n John joint-earls.\n =1214.= Death of Earl David.\n 1214. [Alexander II. King of Scotland.]\n 1215. [Magna Charta granted in England.]\n =1222.= Burning of Bishop Adam in Caithness.\n \u2014 Death of Bjarne, the poet-bishop of Orkney.\n =1231.= Death of John, the last earl of the Norse line.\n =1232.= Magnus II., the first of the Angus line, earl.\n \u2014 Loss of ship carrying the chief men of the Isles from\n Norway.\n =1239.= Gilbride I. earl.\n ? Gilbride II. earl.\n 1249. [Alexander III. King of Scotland.]\n =1256.= Magnus III. earl.\n =1263.= King Hakon\u2019s expedition\u2014Battle of Largs\u2014Death of Hakon at\n Kirkwall.\n =1266.= Treaty of Perth\u2014\u201cAnnual of Norway\u201d established.\n =1276.= Magnus IV. earl.\n =1284.= John II. earl.\n 1286. [Death of Alexander III. of Scotland\u2014Margaret of Norway\n heiress to the crown.]\n 1292. [Death of Margaret the \u201cMaid of Norway.\u201d]\n 1306. [Robert Bruce King of Scotland. According to a tradition,\n the credibility of which is supported by various lines\n of evidence, Bruce passed the winter of 1306-7 in\n Orkney, not in the island of Rathlin.]\n =1310.= Magnus V. earl.\n 1312. [Treaty of Perth confirmed at Inverness.]\n 1314. [Battle of Bannockburn.]\n =1325.= Death of Earl Magnus V.; end of the Angus line.\n \u2014 Malise of Stratherne earl.\n =1353.= Erngisl earl.\n =1379.= Death of Earl Erngisl; end of the Stratherne line.\n \u2014 Henry I. (St. Clair) earl\u2014Shetland restored to the earldom.\n \u2014 Union of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark (Union of Calmar).\n =1400.= Henry II. (St. Clair) earl.\n 1406. [Prince James of Scotland captured by the English when on\n his way to France.]\n =1420.= Bishop William Tulloch, commissioner in Orkney for the\n Crown of Norway.\n =1423.= David Menzies of Wemyss commissioner.\n =1434.= William St. Clair earl, the last earl under Norse rule.\n 1453. [Constantinople taken by the Turks.]\n =1468.= Orkney and Shetland pledged to the Scottish Crown.\n \u2014 Marriage of James III. of Scotland to Margaret of Denmark.\n =1471.= Lands and revenues of Earl William purchased by the\n Scottish Crown.\n =1472.= Bishop William Tulloch appointed to collect Crown revenues.\n =1485.= Henry St. Clair representative of the Crown.\n 1492. [First voyage of Columbus.]\n 1497. [Voyage of Cabot to Labrador.]\n =1513.= Battle of Flodden\u2014Death of Henry St. Clair.\n 1524. [Union of Calmar dissolved.]\n =1529.= Battle of Summerdale.\n =1540.= James V. of Scotland visits Orkney.\n 1542. [Mary Queen of Scots born.]\n =1565.= Lord Robert Stewart obtains a feu charter of Orkney and\n Shetland.\n 1567. [Mary Queen of Scots deposed\u2014James VI. proclaimed\u2014Flight\n of Bothwell to Orkney and Shetland.]\n =1568.= The Islands resumed by the Crown of Scotland.\n =1581.= Lord Robert Stewart earl.\n 1588. [The Armada.]\n =1592.= Earl Patrick Stewart obtains the Islands.\n 1603. [Union of the Crowns of Scotland and England.]\n =1614.= Execution of Earl Patrick.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX II.\n\nNORSE WORDS IN ORKNEY PLACE-NAMES.\n\n\nThe following is a list of the Norse words most commonly found in\nplace-names in Orkney, with their meaning. The forms in which they now\nappear, as names or parts of names, are given in italic, except where the\nold form is preserved with little change.\n\n1. LAND FEATURES.\n\n =Ass=, ridge; _-house_.\n =Bjarg=, rocky hill; _-berry_, _-ber_.\n =Bratt=, steep; _brett-_.\n =Brekka=, slope; _-breck_.\n =Dal=, valley; _-dale_, _-dall_.\n =Fjall=, hill; _-fell_, _-fea_, _-fiold_.\n =Gil=, narrow glen; _-gill_.\n =Grjot=, gravel; _grut-_.\n =Hals=, neck, col; _hass_.\n =Hammar=, crag.\n =Haug=, mound; _howe_, _hox-_.\n =Hlith=, slope; _-lee_.\n =Hv\u0101ll=, =h\u014dll=, hill; _hol-_, _hool-_.\n =Hvamm=, small valley, grassy slope; _quholm_.\n =Kamb=, ridge or crest; _kame_.\n =Knapp=, hilltop, knob.\n _Kuml_, burial mound; _cumla-_.\n =Leir=, clay; _ler-_.\n =Mel=, sandbank, sandy downs.\n =Mor=, pl. mos, moor; _mous-_, _-mo_.\n =Myri=, wet meadow; _-mire_.\n =Skal=, soft rock, shale; _skel-_.\n =Thufa=, mound; _-too_.\n =Varthi=, watch-tower; _ward_, _wart_.\n =Voll=, valley; _vel-_, _-wall_.\n\n2. FRESH WATER.\n\n =A=, =o=, =or=, burn.\n =Brun=, well; _-burn_.\n =Fors=, waterfall; _furs-_.\n =Kelda=, spring.\n =Oss=, burn-mouth; _oyce_.\n =Tj\u00f6rn=, small lake; _-shun_.\n =Vatn=, water; _watten_.\n\n3. SHORE FEATURES.\n\n =Bakki=, banks; _-back_.\n =Barth=, projecting headland (edge of a hill, beak of a ship, etc.).\n =Berg=, mass of rock; _-ber_, _-berry_.\n =Bringa=, breast; _bring_.\n =Eith=, isthmus; _aith_, _-ay_, _-a_.\n =Ey=, island; _-ey_, _-ay_, _-a_.\n =Eyrr=, gravel beach; _ayre_.\n =Fles=, flat skerry; _flashes_.\n =Gn\u00fcp=, peak; _noup_.\n =Hella=, flat rock; _-hellya_.\n =Hellir=, cave; _-hellya_.\n =H\u014dlm=, small island.\n =Klett=, low rock; _-clett_.\n =Muli=, muzzle, lip; _mout_.\n =Nef=, n\u00f6v, nose; _nevi_.\n =Nes=, nose; _-ness_.\n =Oddi=, sharp point; _od_.\n =Sker=, skerry.\n =Stakk=, pillar rock; _stack_.\n =Tangl=, tongue; _-taing_.\n\n4. SEA FEATURES.\n\n =Brim=, surf.\n =Efja=, backwater, eddy; _evie_.\n =Fj\u00f6rth=, firth; _firth_, _-ford_.\n =Gja=, chasm, creek; _geo_.\n =Glup=, throat; _gloup_.\n =Hafn=, harbour; _ham_, _hamn-_.\n =H\u014dp=, shallow bay.\n =Straum=, tide-stream; _strom-_.\n =Vag=, narrow bay; _voe_, _-wall_.\n =Vath=, wading-place, ford; _waith_.\n =Vik=, bay; _-wick_.\n\n5. FARMS AND HOUSES.\n\n =Bolstadr=, dwelling; _-buster_, _-bister_, _-bist_.\n =Br\u016b=, bridge; _bro-_.\n =Bu=, =b\u00e6r=, farm; _bu_, _-by_.\n =Bygging=, building, from byggja, to settle, to build; _-biggin_.\n =Garth=, enclosure, dyke; _-garth_, _-ger_.\n =Grind=, gate.\n =Hagi=, enclosed pasture; _hack-_.\n =Hus=, house.\n =Kr\u014d=, sheepfold; _-croo_.\n =Kv\u012b=, cattle pen; _-quoy_.\n =Rett=, sheepfold; _-ret_.\n =Sel=, \u201csaeter\u201d hut; _selli-_.\n =Setr=, =saetr=, out-pasture; _seatter_, _-setter_, _-ster_.\n =Skali=, hall, house; _-skaill_.\n =Skipti=, dividing, boundary; _skippi-_.\n =Stadr=, homestead; _-ster_, _-sta_.\n =Stofa=, room, house; _stove_.\n =Thopt=, plot, site of a house; _-toft_, _-taft_.\n =T\u016bn=, enclosure, hedge; _-ton_, _-town_.\n\n6. MISCELLANEOUS.\n\n =Djup=, deep; _deep-_, _jub-_.\n =Faer=, sheep; _far-_.\n =Flat=, flat; _flot-_.\n =Gra=, gray.\n =Graenn=, green.\n =Ha=, high; _ho-_.\n =Helgr=, holy; _hellya_.\n =Hest=, horse.\n =Hrafn=, raven; _ram-_, _ramn-_.\n =Hross=, horse; _russ-_.\n =Hund=, dog.\n =Hvit=, white; _wheetha-_.\n =Ling=, heather.\n =Mykill=, great; _muckle_.\n =Raud=, red; _ro-_.\n =Skalp=, ship; _scap-_.\n =Skip=, ship.\n =Svart=, black; _swart-_.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX III.\n\nLIST OF BIRDS FOUND IN ORKNEY.\n\n\nLocal names are given in brackets. An asterisk (*) indicates that the\nbird is not known to breed in the islands. When any bird not in this list\nis found, it will usually be worth while to put the fact on record.\n\n *=Auk, Little= (Rotchie).\n\n =Blackbird= (Blackie).\n =Bunting, Corn= (Chirlie Buntling).\n *=Bunting, Snow= (Snowflake).\n\n =Chaffinch=\u2014_rare_.\n =Coot= (Snaith).\n =Cormorant= (Palmer, Scarf).\n Crow, Hooded (Craa, Hoodie Craa, Grayback).\n =Cuckoo=\u2014_rare_.\n =Curlew= (Whaup).\n\n *=Diver, Black-throated=\u2014_rare_.\n *=Diver, Great Northern= (Immer Goose).\n =Diver, Red-throated.=\n *=Dotterel=\u2014_rare_.\n =Dove, Ring= (Wood-pigeon)\u2014_rare_.\n =Dove, Rock.=\n =Dove, Stock.=\n =Duck, Eider= (Dunter).\n *=Duck, Golden-eye=\u2014_rare_.\n =Duck, Long-tailed= (Calloo)\u2014_rare_.\n *=Duck, Scaup=\u2014_rare_.\n =Duck, Sheld= (Sly-goose).\n =Duck, Teal.=\n =Duck, Tufted.=\n =Duck, Wild= (Stock Duck).\n =Dunlin= (Plover-page, Plover-pagick).\n\n =Falcon, Peregrine.=\n *=Fieldfare.=\n\n =Gannet= or =Solan Goose=.\n *=Goose, Bernacle=\u2014_rare_.\n *=Goose, Brent.=\n *=Goose, Graylag=\u2014_rare_.\n =Grebe, Little.=\n =Greenfinch= (Green Lintie).\n =Grouse, Red= (Muirhen).\n =Guillemot, Black= (Tyste).\n =Guillemot, Common= (Aak).\n =Gull, Black-headed.=\n =Gull, Common= (White-maa).\n =Gull, Greater Black-backed= (Baakie).\n =Gull, Herring= (White-maa).\n =Gull, Lesser Black-backed.=\n\n =Hen Harrier= (Goose-haak).\n =Heron, Common.=\n\n =Jackdaw= (Jackie, Kae).\n\n =Kestrel= (Moosie Haak).\n =Kittiwake= (Kittie, Kittick, Kittiwaako).\n\n =Lapwing= (Teeack, Teewhup).\n =Linnet= (Lintie, Lintick).\n\n =Merganser, Red-breasted= (Sawbill, Harl, Rantick).\n =Merlin.=\n =Moorhen= (Waterhen).\n\n =Owl, Long-eared=\u2014_rare_.\n =Owl, Short-eared= (Cattie-face).\n =Oyster Catcher= (Skeldro).\n\n =Petrel, Fulmar.=\n =Petrel, Stormy= (Sea-swallow).\n =Phalarope, Red-necked.=\n =Pipit, Meadow= (Teeting).\n =Pipit, Rock= (Tang Sparrow, Tang Teeting).\n =Plover, Golden.=\n =Plover, Ringed= (Sandlark, Sinlack).\n =Pochard.=\n =Puffin= (Tammie-norrie).\n\n =Quail=\u2014_rare_.\n\n =Rail, Land= (Corncrake).\n =Rail, Water=\u2014_rare_.\n =Raven= (Corbie).\n =Razor-bill= (Cooter-neb).\n =Redbreast= (Robin Redbreast).\n =Redshank.=\n *=Redwing.=\n =Rook.=\n\n *=Sanderling=\u2014_rare_.\n =Sandpiper, Common.=\n *=Scoter, Common.=\n *=Scoter, Surf=\u2014_rare_.\n *=Scoter, Velvet.=\n =Shag= (Scarf).\n =Shearwater, Manx= (Lyrie).\n =Shoveller=\u2014_rare_.\n =Skua, Richardson\u2019s= (Scootie-allan).\n =Skylark= (Laverock, Lavro).\n *=Smew=\u2014_rare_.\n =Snipe= (Snippick, Horse-gowk).\n =Sparrow, Hedge.=\n =Sparrow, House= (Sprug).\n =Starling= (Stirling, Strill).\n *=Stint, Little=\u2014_rare_.\n =Stonechat=\u2014_rare_.\n *=Swan, Hooper=\u2014_rare_.\n\n =Tern, Arctic= (Pickie-terno, Rit-tick).\n =Tern, Common= (Pickie-terno, Rit-tick).\n =Tern, Sandwich=\u2014_rare_.\n =Thrush= (Mavis).\n *=Turnstone=\u2014_rare_.\n =Twite= (Heather Lintie).\n\n =Wagtail, Pied= (Willie-wagtail).\n =Warbler, Sedge=\u2014_rare_.\n =Wheatear= (Chackie, Stonechat).\n =Whimbrel= (Little Whaup, Summer Whaup)\u2014_rare_.\n =Whinchat=\u2014_rare_.\n =Widgeon.=\n =Woodcock=\u2014_rare_.\n =Wren= (Wirenn, Jenny Wren).\n =Wren, Gold-crested=\u2014_rare_.\n\n =Yellowhammer= (Yallow Yarling).\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX IV.\n\nBOOKS FOR FURTHER STUDY.\n\n\nThe subjoined list of books is given as a guide to further study by those\nwho may wish to extend their knowledge of Orkney in any of the aspects\nsuggested in this book. It is not in any sense a complete list of works\nrelating to the Islands, nor does it, on the other hand, confine itself\nto such works in subjects where general study is the best foundation for\nlocal research. The books marked * are now out of print, and can only be\nobtained from libraries, or bought, when occasion offers, from dealers\nin second-hand books. As regards books still current, the list may be\nhelpful to those who are building up school or parish libraries in the\nIslands. The most complete bibliography of Orkney and Shetland is the\n=List of Books and Pamphlets relating to Orkney and Shetland=, by James\nW. Cursiter, F.S.A.Scot. (Wm. Peace and Son, Kirkwall, 1894.)\n\n\nArch\u00e6ology and Early History.\n\n*=Orkneyinga Saga.= Translated by Hjaltalin and Goudie. Edited, with\nNotes, by Anderson. (Edinburgh, 1873.) The historical introduction by Dr.\nJoseph Anderson is of special value.\n\n=The Orkneyingers\u2019 Saga.= Translated by Sir G. W. Dasent. (London, 1894;\nRolls Edition.) A very fine spirited rendering into English, as may be\nseen from the extracts given in the first part of this book.\n\n=The Saga of Hacon, and a fragment of the Saga of Magnus.= Translated by\nSir G. W. Dasent. (London, 1894; Rolls Edition.) This gives the Norse\naccount of the battle of Largs, and events leading up to it.\n\nThe Icelandic text of the two preceding books is published in separate\nvolumes in the same series.\n\n=The Story of Burnt Njal.= By Sir G. W. Dasent. (Edinburgh, 1861; also a\nlater and cheaper edition.) This is the finest of the Icelandic sagas.\nIt deals mainly with life in Iceland, but contains several references\nto Orkney under Earl Sigurd the Stout, and the fine description of the\nbattle of Clontarf quoted in this book.\n\n=The War of the Gaedhil with the Gaill; or, The Invasion of Ireland\nby the Danes and other Norsemen.= Irish text, with translation and\nintroduction by Jas. H. Todd. (London, 1867; Rolls Edition.) This gives\nan account from the Irish point of view of the Norse invasions of Ireland\nup to and including the battle of Clontarf.\n\n=The Heimskringla; or, Chronicles of the Kings of Norway.= Translated by\nSamuel Laing. (3 vols., London, 1844; new edition, edited by Dr. R. B.\nAnderson, 4 vols., London, 1889.)\n\n=Heimskringla Saga.= The Saga Library Edition. Translated by Wm. Morris\nand Eirikr Magnusson. (4 vols., London, 1893-1905.) The sagas included in\nthe Heimskringla form a history of the early kings of Norway, and contain\nfrequent references to Orkney. Snorri Sturlason, the author, ranks among\nthe greatest of historians.\n\n=Corpus Poeticum Boreale.= By Gudbrand Vigfusson and F. York Powell.\n(2 vols., Oxford, 1883.) This is an almost complete collection of old\nNorse Eddic and Court poetry, including poems by Torf Einar, Arnor the\nEarl\u2019s poet, Earl Rognvald, and Bishop Bjarni. In a valuable introduction\nVigfusson shows that many of the Eddic lays were written in the western\nNorse colonies in the British Isles, and some of them presumably in the\nOrkney earldom.\n\n=Icelandic Primer.= By Henry Sweet. (Oxford, 1886.)\n\n=Icelandic Prose Reader.= By G. Vigfusson and F. York Powell. (Oxford,\n1879.)\n\n=Icelandic-English Dictionary.= By R. Cleasby. Edited by G. Vigfusson,\nwith appendix by W. W. Skeat. (London, 1874.)\n\nThe preceding three books form the best equipment for studying the\nlanguage of the Norse period.\n\n=The Dialect and Place-Names of Shetland.= By J. Jakobsen. (Lerwick,\n1897.) Many of the place-names explained occur in Orkney.\n\n=The Vikings in Western Christendom=, by C. F. Keary (London, 1891),\ngives an interesting account of the early Viking age, from 789 to 888 A.D.\n\n=Saga Time=, by J. Fulford Vicary (London, 1887), gives a popular\ndescription of society from the ninth to the eleventh century.\n\n=Orcades, seu Rerum Orcadensium Historia.= By Thormodus Torfaeus,\nIcelandic historian (1697). Translated by Alexander Pope, minister of\nReay. (Wick, 1866.) Only a partial translation.\n\n*=Account of the Danes and Norwegians in England, Scotland, and Ireland.=\nBy J. J. A. Worsaae; translation. (London, 1852.) A standard work.\n\n=Monumenta Orcadica: the Norsemen in the Orkneys and the Monuments\nthey have left, with a Survey of the Celtic Pre-Norwegian and\nScottish Post-Norwegian Monuments in the Islands.= By L. Dietrichson.\n(Christiania, 1906.) The most recent and most scientific account of\nthe Norse remains in Orkney, written in Norwegian, but with a very\nfull summary\u2014almost equivalent to a translation\u2014in English. Of special\ninterest is the account of the newly-discovered monastery in Eynhallow.\n\n=The Viking Age.= By Paul du Chaillu. (2 vols., London, 1889.) An account\nof the manners and customs, as well as the history, of the Viking period;\nwell illustrated, but not accurate or authoritative.\n\n=The Early Kings of Norway.= By Thomas Carlyle. (London, 1875.) A short\naccount of the period from 860 to 1397; of no great historical value.\n\n\nNorse Mythology.\n\n*=Northern Mythology.= By Benjamin Thorpe. (3 vols., London, 1851.) The\nbest and most complete work on the subject.\n\n=Northern Antiquities.= By P. Mallet; translation. (London, 1770; edition\nin Bohn\u2019s Series.)\n\n=The Mythology of the Eddas.= By C. F. Keary. (London, 1882.)\n\n=Norse Mythology: the Religion of our Forefathers.= By R. B. Anderson.\n(Chicago, 1875.)\n\n=Asgard and the Gods: a Manual of Norse Mythology.= By Dr. W. W\u00e4gner.\n(London, 1880.) The best popular book on the subject.\n\n=The Tragedy of the Norse Gods.= By R. J. Pitt.\n\n=Heroes and Hero-Worship.= By Thomas Carlyle. (London, 1841.)\n\n=The Earthly Paradise.= By William Morris. (London, 1868-70.)\n\n=Sigurd the Volsung.= By William Morris. (London, 1877.)\n\n=Epic and Romance.= Essays on Medi\u00e6val Literature by W. P. Ker. (London,\n1908.) An authoritative and very readable account of the old Icelandic\nliterary art.\n\n\nLater History.\n\n*=History of the Orkney Islands.= By the Rev. George Barry. (Edinburgh,\n1805; reprinted, with prefatory account of the Islands, Kirkwall, 1867.)\nOne of the standard works dealing with the history of the Islands.\n\n*=Odal Rights and Feudal Wrongs.= By David Balfour of Balfour.\n(Edinburgh, 1860).\n\n*=Oppressions of the Sixteenth Century in the Islands of Orkney and\nZetland.= (Edinburgh, 1859; Abbotsford and Maitland Clubs publications.)\n\nThe above two books give an account of Orkney under Scottish rule.\n\n*=Monteith\u2019s Description of the Islands of Orkney and Zetland.=\n(Edinburgh, 1711; reprinted 1845.)\n\n*=General View of the Agriculture of the Orkney Islands.= By John\nShirreff. (Edinburgh, 1814.) An exceedingly interesting account of the\nstate of the Islands in the early nineteenth century.\n\n=Description of the Isles of Orkney.= By the Rev. James Wallace (minister\nof Kirkwall). Published by his son. (Edinburgh, 1693; reprinted, with\nnotes by John Small, M.A., Edinburgh, 1883.)\n\n=The Present State of the Orkney Islands Considered.= By James Fea\n(Surgeon). (Edinburgh, 1775; reprinted, Edinburgh, 1884.)\n\n=Orkney and Shetland Old-Lore Series.= A miscellany issued quarterly\nby the Viking Club, London; contains numerous articles of historical\ninterest.\n\n\nDescriptive.\n\n*=The Orkneys and Shetland.= By John R. Tudor. (London, 1883.) The best\ndescriptive work on the county; at once popular and systematic.\n\n=Kirkwall in the Orkneys.= By B. H. Hossack. (Kirkwall, 1900.) An\nextremely full and detailed descriptive and historical account of the\ntown of Kirkwall.\n\n*=History of the Orkney Islands=, by the Rev. George Barry (Kirkwall\nedition, 1867), contains a well-written description of the Islands.\n\n*=Summers and Winters In the Orkneys.= By Daniel Gorrie. (Kirkwall, N.D.)\nA valuable series of sketches of Orcadian scenery and the conditions of\nlife about the middle of last century.\n\n=Rambles In the Far North.= By R. M. Fergusson. (Paisley, 1884.)\n\n=Our Trip North.= By R. M. Fergusson. (London, 1892.)\n\n=Handbook to the Orkney Islands.= (W. Peace and Son, Kirkwall.) Full of\ninterest.\n\n=Orkney and Shetland.= By M. J. B. Baddeley, B.A. Thorough Guide Series.\n(Thomas Nelson and Sons, London.) The best tourist guide to the Islands.\n\n=Orkney and Shetland Almanac and County Directory= (W. Peace and Son,\nKirkwall; issued annually) contains statistical and other material of\nvalue.\n\n=The North Sea Pilot. Part I.= (London, 1894.) A Government publication\nfor the use of mariners. Of much value to Orcadians interested in boating\nor in navigation.\n\n=Tour through the Islands of Orkney and Shetland.= By the Rev. George\nLow, with introduction by Dr. Joseph Anderson. (Kirkwall, 1879.) An\ninteresting account of the appearance of the Islands at the end of the\neighteenth century.\n\n\nGeology.\n\nThere is no book dealing specifically with the geology of Orkney.\nRecourse must be had either to books dealing with the science generally,\nor to those dealing with the Islands in which their geology is included.\n\n=The Orkneys and Shetland= (Tudor) contains an account of the geology of\nthe islands, written by Drs. Peach and Horne, with a useful geological\nmap.\n\nThe most recent and complete geological survey of Orkney is that by\nDr. J. S. Flett, an account of which is contained in two papers in the\n=Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh=.\n\nSome of Hugh Miller\u2019s works, such as =The Testimony of the Rocks=, =The\nOld Red Sandstone=, =Rambles of a Geologist=, and =Footprints of the\nCreator=, contain numerous references to the geology of Orkney.\n\n=Robert Dick=, by Dr. Samuel Smiles, is an interesting account of a\nThurso baker who devoted his life to the study of geology in Caithness,\nwhere the rook formation is the same as that of Orkney.\n\nAmong general works in geology suitable for beginners may be mentioned\nHuxley\u2019s =Physiography= and Sir Archibald Geikie\u2019s =Outlines of Field\nGeology=, his =Class-book of Geology=, and his =Scenery of Scotland=.\n\n\nBotany.\n\n=The Orkneys and Shetland= (Tudor) contains a list of the rarer British\nplants found in Orkney, compiled by W. I. Fortescue.\n\nVolume xviii. of the =Transactions of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh=\ncontains a complete list of Orkney plants by Prof. J. W. H. Traill.\nAnother list is in preparation by Mr. Magnus Spence.\n\n=The Marine Alg\u00e6 of the Orkney Islands=, by G. W. Traill (Edinburgh,\n1890), contains a list of the seaweeds of Orkney.\n\nThe following are some general works on botany which may be of service\nto the beginner:\u2014=Open-air Studies in Botany=, by R. L. Praeger (London,\n1897), a study of wild flowers in their homes, with illustrations;\n=Flowering Plants, their Structure and Habitat=, by C. L. Laurie,\nillustrated (London, 1903); =Nature Studies=, by G. F. Scott-Elliot\n(London, 1903); =A Plant Book for Schools=, by O. V. Darbyshire,\nillustrated (London, 1908); =Flowers of the Field=, by C. A. Johns\n(London, 1894).\n\n=Common Objects of the Seashore=, by the Rev. J. G. Wood (London, 1866),\ncontains good descriptions and illustrations of the seaweeds.\n\nFor identification of plants perhaps the best books are the =British\nFlora=, by Bentham and Hooker (London, 1904), and =Illustrations to\nBentham and Hooker\u2019s British Flora=, by Fitch and Smith (London, 1905).\n\nFor mosses, the best book is Dixon and Jameson\u2019s =Student\u2019s Handbook of\nBritish Mosses=.\n\n\nZoology.\n\nFor a general introduction to natural history the best books are\u2014=Life\nand her Children= (London, 1880), and =Winners in Life\u2019s Race= (London,\n1882), by Miss A. B. Buckley (Mrs. Fisher), and Professor Arthur J.\nThomson\u2019s fascinating =Study of Animal Life=, which gives a list of other\nbooks on zoology.\n\nThe animals of the seashore are dealt with in Rev. J. G. Wood\u2019s =Common\nObjects of the Seashore= and =Fresh and Salt Water Aquarium=; =Seaside\nStudies=, by G. H. Lewes; =The Aquarium=, by P. H. Gosse; and =The\nAquarium, its Inhabitants, Structure, and Management=, by J. E. Taylor.\n\nGosse\u2019s =Manual of Marine Zoology for the British Isles= (2 vols.,\nLondon, 1856) still remains the best book for the identification of\nmarine animals.\n\nFor the study of birds the best works are the following:\u2014=The Birds of\nShetland=, by H. L. Saxby (Edinburgh, 1884); =The Birds of the West of\nScotland=, by Robert Gray; =Bird-Watching= and =The Bird-Watcher in the\nShetlands=, by Edmund Selous.\n\nSaunders\u2019s =Manual of British Birds= (London, 1889) is the best single\nbook for the identification of birds, each species being illustrated.\n\n=The Vertebrate Fauna of the Orkney Islands=, by J. A. Harvie Brown and\nT. E. Buckley (Edinburgh, 1891), is in greater part a list of the birds\nof Orkney, with a short account of each.\n\n=Orcadian Papers: being Selections from the Proceedings of the Orkney\nNatural History Society from 1887 to 1904.= Edited by M. M. Oharleson,\nF.S.A. Scot. (Stromness, 1905.) The selections are not confined to\nnatural history, but include historical and other contributions.\n\n\nFiction, Poetry, etc.\n\n=The Pirate.= By Sir Walter Scott.\n\n=Poems, etc.= By David Vedder. Edited by the Rev. G. Gilfillan.\n(Kirkwall, N.D.)\n\n=Poems, Tales, and Sketches.= By Lieutenant John Malcolm, with\nintroduction by the Rev. G. Gilfillan. (Kirkwall, N.D.)\n\n*=The Orcadian Sketch-Book.= By Walter Traill Dennison. (Kirkwall, 1880.)\nA unique collection of stories and poems written in the \u201cNorth Isles\u201d\ndialect of the Orkney vernacular.\n\n=Orcadian Sketches.= By W. T. Dennison. With introduction by J. Storer\nClouston. (Kirkwall, 1904.) A selection from the preceding.\n\n=The Pilots of Pomona.= By Robert Leighton. (London, 1892.)\n\n=Sons of the Vikings.= By Dr. J. Gunn, M.A. (Edinburgh, 1893. Cheaper\nedition, 1909.)\n\n=The Boys of Hamnavoe.= By Dr. J. Gunn, M.A. (Edinburgh, 1894.)\n\n=Vandrad the Viking.= By J. Storer Clouston. (Edinburgh, 1897.)\n\n=Garmiscath.= By J. Storer Clouston. (Cheaper edition, London, 1904.)\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn addition to the material available in book form, much excellent\nliterature in prose and in verse, with more or less direct relation to\nOrkney, has appeared in various magazines above the names of Duncan\nJ. Robertson, J. Storer Clouston, and others, specimens of which are\nincluded in the pages of this volume.\n\n THE END.\n\n PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN.","title":"The Orkney book : $b Readings for young Orcadians","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":108973}