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diff --git a/76756-0.txt b/76756-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36b57c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/76756-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11613 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76756 *** + + + + + +_SONS OF THE ISLES._ + + + _There is a spell woven by restless seas,_ + _A secret charm that haunts our Island air,_ + _Holding our hearts and following everywhere_ + _The wandering children of the Orcades;_ + _And still, when sleep the prisoned spirit frees,_ + _What dim void wastes, what strange dark seas we dare,_ + _Till where the dear green Isles shine low and fair_ + _We moor in dreams beside familiar quays._ + + _Sons of the Isles! though ye may roam afar,_ + _Still on your lips the salt sea spray is stinging,_ + _Still in your hearts the winds of youth are singing;_ + _Though in heavens grown familiar to your eyes_ + _The Southern Cross is gleaming, for old skies_ + _Your hearts are fain and for the Northern Star._ + + DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON + (_“Chambers’s Journal.” By permission._) + + + + +[Illustration: _“The wonder and the glory of all the North” (p. 69)._] + + + + +[Illustration] + + The + Orkney Book + + Readings for Young Orcadians + + Compiled and Edited by + John Gunn, M.A., D.Sc. + Author of “Sons of the Vikings,” “The Boys of + Hamnavoe,” etc. + + Thomas Nelson & Sons, Ltd. + London, Edinburgh, and + New York + + + + +PREFACE. + + +This is a book about Orkney, for use in Orkney, designed and for the most +part written by natives of Orkney. It owes its origin to the Edinburgh +University Orcadian Association, the members of which realized the +desirability of preparing for use in the schools of Orkney a book adapted +to the special conditions of the Islands. + +Educationists now recognize that Knowledge ought, like Charity, to “begin +at home:” this is true of every branch of knowledge—history, geography, +literature, and the rest. They might even adopt with an educational +reference the saying of the wise man, “Wisdom is before him that hath +understanding; but the eyes of a fool are in the ends of the earth.” An +attempt has accordingly been made in this book to present to the young +folks of Orkney a general view of their homeland, some description of +its past and its present, and some knowledge of its naturalistic and its +humanistic aspects, with the object of awakening their interest in their +own Islands, in order that from this centre their knowledge may advance +the more surely to the sweep of a wider horizon. For, like Charity again, +while Knowledge must begin at home, it must not remain at home. + +While the scope of the book is wide, the treatment of each class of +subjects is necessarily suggestive rather than exhaustive. All that +is possible within the limits of a single small volume is to present +illustrative specimens rather than a complete collection of studies. +Hence there is abundant opportunity for the teacher to supplement +the book by specializing in one direction or in another according to +individual preference. The aim has been rather to supply the irreducible +minimum, suitable to all, in the hope that the book may find its way into +every school in the county, and be read by every Orkney boy and girl +before their schooldays are over. + +The Committee of the Edinburgh University Orcadian Association who have +superintended the issue of the book acknowledge gratefully the courtesy +with which copyright material has been placed at their disposal. They +wish to record their obligations to the Controller of His Majesty’s +Stationery Office, to Messrs. J. M. Dent and Co., Messrs. Longmans, +Green, and Co., Messrs. Macmillan and Co., Messrs. W. and R. Chambers, +and the Walter Scott Publishing Company, for the use of the extracts to +which their names are respectively appended, and to Messrs. Thomas Nelson +and Sons for much copyright material, including numerous illustrations. +They also desire to express their thanks to the Honourable Mrs. John +Dundas of Papdale, and to Messrs. Duncan J. Robertson, J. Storer +Clouston, and Edmund Selous for literary contributions which are in +themselves sufficient to give a high value to the collection, as well as +to place on record their indebtedness to the late Mr. James Tomison for +the article on “The Birds of Sule Skerry.” + +The matter contained in the unsigned articles has been contributed by +many Orcadians, specialists in their several departments, whose names are +sufficient guarantee for accuracy—Messrs. James W. Cursiter, F.S.A.Scot., +for Archæology, including illustrations; James Drever, M.A., for Norse +history and language; John Tait, M.D., D.Sc., for Zoology; John S. Flett, +M.A., D.Sc., for Geology; Magnus Spence, F.E.I.S., for Meteorology and +Botany; John Garrioch, M.A., for Seaweeds; John W. Bews, M.A., B.Sc., and +George W. Scarth, M.A., for botanical and descriptive material; Robert C. +Wallace, M.A., B.Sc., for descriptive material; and John Gunn (Kirkwall) +for the list of Orkney birds in the Appendix. + +As regards the artistic features of the book, special acknowledgment is +due to Messrs. Thomas Kent, for his generosity in placing at the disposal +of the Editor the whole of his unique collection of Orkney views, all +the photographs reproduced being from his studio, with three or four +exceptions; T. Marjoribanks Hay, R.S.W., for his drawing of St. Magnus +Church, Egilsay; Stanley Cursiter, for the decorative initial letters, +the title-page, and the cover design; and Miss Rose Leith, for the border +designs of the grouped photographs; and to J. G. Bartholomew, LL.D., for +the two-page map of the county. + +Finally, the thanks of the Committee are due to the generous and +patriotic friends, among whom special mention ought to be made of the +Glasgow Orkney and Shetland Literary and Scientific Association, whose +donations of money have enabled them to produce this book, for a volume +whose circulation must necessarily be limited to a small area could +be issued at so low a price only on condition of the initial cost of +manufacture being met by those interested in its production. + +The Editor, who must accept responsibility for the general scope and plan +of the book, as well as for the actual form and part of the contents of +the unsigned articles, desires personally to acknowledge the valuable +assistance he has received from the members of the Committee, especially +Dr. John Tait and Mr. James Drever, and from the other friends who have +helped by their sympathetic criticism and advice, to all of whom, as well +as to himself, the work has been in every sense a labour of love; and +he ventures to express the hope that the results of that work, as here +visible, may find favour in the sight of all young Orcadians, and of many +who are no longer young. + + J. GUNN. + +EDINBURGH, 1909. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + Page + + Part I.—The Story of the Past. + + Prehistoric Orkney, 9 + + The Beginnings of our History, 18 + + The Norsemen and their Sagas, 23 + + The Beginning of the Earldom, 32 + + The Dark Century, 40 + + Earl Thorfinn and Earl Rognvald, 54 + + The Slaying of Earl Magnus, 59 + + The Founding of St. Magnus Cathedral, 67 + + The Jorsalafarers, 74 + + Sweyn Asleifson, the Last of the Vikings, 90 + + The Decay of the Earldom and the End of the Western Kingdom, 97 + + The Annexation to Scotland, 105 + + Udal and Feudal, 110 + + The Stewart Earls, 115 + + The Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, 120 + + Part II.—The Isles and the Folk. + + A Survey of the Islands: + On Wideford Hill, 129 + Among the North Isles, 134 + Among the South Isles, 146 + + Round the Mainland: + First Day, 154 + Second Day, 158 + Third Day, 166 + Fourth Day, 172 + + Sketches by Hugh Miller: + The Dwarfie Stone, 179 + The Standing Stones, 184 + + The Cathedral of St. Magnus, 190 + + A Road in Orcady, 206 + + A Loch in Orcady, 219 + + Among the Kelpers, 227 + + A Whale-hunt in Orkney, 242 + + Articles made of Straw, 248 + + The Weather of Orkney, 255 + + The Place-Names of Orkney, 263 + + Part III.—Nature Lore. + + The Story of the Rocks: + “Sermons in Stones,” 271 + “Books in the Running Brooks,” 276 + Cliffs and Beaches, 284 + The Age of Ice, 289 + Orkney Fossils, 292 + + A Peat-Moss, 296 + + Some Common Weeds, 305 + + Home Life on the Rocks: + Guillemots, 312 + Seals, 317 + Shags, 320 + + The Birds of Sule Skerry, 328 + The Residenters, 330 + The Regular Visitors, 334 + Occasional Visitors, 346 + + Common Seaweeds, 352 + + Crabs, 361 + + Hoppers and Sholties, 372 + + Sea-Anemones, 378 + + Part IV.—Legend and Lay. + + The Old Gods, 383 + + A Vanishing Island, 391 + + Helen Waters: a Legend of Sule Skerry, 396 + + A Legend of Boray Island, 403 + + Songs of the Gods: + The Challenge of Thor, 408 + Tegner’s Drapa, 409 + + The Song of Harold Harfager, 412 + + King Hacon’s Last Battle, 414 + + The Death of Haco, 416 + + The Old Man of Hoy, 420 + + Orkney, 422 + + Scenes from “The Buccaneer”: + Night; Morning, 430 + + To Orkney, 432 + + The Temple of Nature, 433 + + Appendices. + + Appendix I.—Chronology of Orcadian History to the End of the + Earldom, with Related Contemporary Events, 435 + + Appendix II.—Norse Words in Orkney Place-Names, 439 + + Appendix III.—List of Birds found in Orkney, 441 + + Appendix IV.—Books for Further Study, 443 + + + + +THE ORKNEY BOOK. + + + + +Part I.—The Story of the Past. + + + + +PREHISTORIC ORKNEY. + + +At what period of the world’s history were our islands first inhabited, +and who were their first inhabitants? These are questions which we cannot +now answer. History is always made before it is written, and long ages +must have passed in the history of these islands before any written +records began to be kept. + +Yet there are some records of that dim, forgotten past, which patient +research has gathered together, and which can be made to tell us a few +fragments of our Island story. If we look into one of the museums where +relics of the past are preserved, we may find such things as flint +arrow-heads and knives, stone axes and hammers, bronze spear-heads, and +other tools and weapons of the early inhabitants of our islands. These +silent witnesses tell us a little about what manner of men they were, and +how they lived their long-forgotten lives. + +The use of stone implements marks a very primitive stage of life, yet +one which may not be entirely savage. There are tribes now living which +are still in their Stone Age. A recent traveller tells of having seen +an inhabitant of the South American Andes skin a hare very neatly with +a small flint knife. This knife is now in Kirkwall, and is precisely +similar to many which have been dug up in Orkney. + +[Illustration: _Flint Arrow-heads and Knives._] + +Flint is not a common stone in the Orkney Islands. It is found in +occasional lumps and pebbles among the clay which has been carried from +other places by the glaciers and icebergs of the Ice Age. Flint is common +in the southern parts of Great Britain, however, and the arrows and +knives found in our islands may have been brought from the south, or the +art of making them may have been learned from tribes among whom flint was +a more common material. This kind of stone, the fine steel of the Stone +Age, was used for small implements over a wide area of the world. + +[Illustration: _Stone Hammers and Axes._] + +Orkney must have had a large population in those early days. The +number of ancient graves which have been found seems to indicate this, +especially if we suppose that most of those graves with their heaped-up +mounds are the resting-places of chiefs and great men rather than of the +common people. The graves which remain are of varied types, from the +simple cist of upright stones roofed with horizontal slabs and covered +with earth, to the large mound with its carefully built chambers. + +The variety of the objects found in those graves, from the rudest flint +and bone implements to those which are carefully finished, and finally +to objects made of metal, shows that the burials belong to different +periods. They tell us of long ages of increasing though now forgotten +civilization. Some of the mounds, indeed, show by their contents that +they cover the remains, not of the original and unknown inhabitants, +but of the Norse conquerors, and thus really belong to the period whose +history has come down to us in writing. But in the very mound where the +Norse warrior was laid to rest, there are sometimes also found the relics +of burials of a much ruder age. Such mingling of the materials of our +unwritten history makes the story which they tell a very difficult one to +read. + +There are few remains in our islands more striking than the chambered +mounds, or Picts’ houses, as they are called. The most complete and +probably the most recent of them is that known as Maeshowe. They consist +of a mound of earth heaped over a rude building, sometimes of one +apartment, but frequently of several, the entrance being a long, low, +narrow passage, through which it is necessary to stoop or crawl in order +to gain an entrance. + +Possibly those Picts’ houses were built at first as houses to dwell in, +though later used as tombs. It is not uncommon to-day to find buildings +used for burial which were designed for other purposes. If ever our +race and all its records were to vanish as completely as the primitive +inhabitants of the Orkney Islands have done, we can imagine some future +explorer of the ruins of St. Magnus Cathedral writing a learned treatise +to prove that the largest building in our islands was erected as a +burial-place for our dead. + +Those mound dwellings, or Picts’ houses, may seem to us a very strange +form of house to live in. Where can we find to-day houses of such a +type, and with so very inconvenient a form of entrance? The Eskimos, as +travellers tell us, are in the habit of building just such houses with +blocks of snow, and they find this the best type in the extreme cold of +their Arctic climate. Possibly the Picts’ house type of dwelling was used +in Orkney and in other places for similar reasons. + +[Illustration: _Polished Stone Celts._] + +The brochs, or Pictish towers, as they are also called, are buildings +of a different kind, which are also fairly common in Orkney. They are +probably of later date than the Picts’ houses. Considerable skill, +as well as co-operation in labour, must have been required for their +erection. + +The most complete broch in existence is that of Mousa in Shetland. Of +those which are found in Orkney, only the lower portions now remain. Over +seventy such ruins have been examined, the best specimens being in Evie +(Burgar), Birsay (Oxtro), Harray, Firth (Ingashowe and Stirlinghowe), +St. Ola (Birstane and Lingro), St. Andrews (Dingishowe and Langskaill), +Burray (East and West Brough), South Ronaldsay (Hoxa), Shapinsay +(Borrowston), and Stronsay (Lamb Head). + +[Illustration: _Plan of Chambered Mound, Wideford Hill._ + +_b_, Entrance. _c_, Blind Passage.] + +[Illustration: _Chambered Mound, Wideford Hill._ + +Section on line _a, a_ of plan.] + +The typical broch is a large round tower, fifty or sixty feet in +diameter, and probably as much in height. The wall is about fifteen feet +thick, and solid at the base, except for some vaulted chambers which are +made in it. Higher, the wall is hollow, or rather consists of an outer +and an inner wall, with a space of four or five feet between them. This +space is divided into a number of stories or galleries by horizontal +courses of long slabs of stone, which form the roof of one story and the +floor of that above it, and at the same time bind the two walls firmly +together. A stairway gives access to the various stories, and light is +admitted by small windows opening into the interior space of the tower, +no windows being made in the outer wall. A single door in the lower wall +forms the only entrance to the inner court of the broch. + +These towers were probably constructed for the purpose of defence, and +against a primitive enemy they would serve as well as did the castles of +a later age before the invention of gunpowder. Indeed, we read of the +broch of Mousa being actually used as a fort in the time of the Norsemen. + +Who the builders of these towers were we cannot discover. They are +undoubtedly very ancient; yet their builders and occupiers were by no +means savages. From the remains which have been found in them we learn +that they were used by a people who kept domestic animals, who cultivated +the ground, and who could spin and weave the wool of their flocks into +cloth. No weapons of the Stone Age are found in the brochs. + +[Illustration: _Broch of Mousa, Shetland._ + +1. Exterior. 2. Section. 3. Section with inner wall removed.] + +It is certain that they were built, and that most of them may have fallen +into ruins, long before the Norsemen came. Many of the places where +they stand were named by those settlers from the broch which was found +standing there. The words _borg_, as in Burgar, and _howe_ (haug), as in +Hoxa (Haug’s aith, or isthmus), are found in many place-names. It is +certain, too, that the brochs were not then occupied, or we should have +found some account of their siege and capture in the Sagas which tell of +Norse prowess by land and sea. + +Another type of ancient remains which is common in our islands is the +standing stones. These are found in many places, either singly or in +groups or circles. Regarding these relics of a distant past much has been +written, but little is known. + +[Illustration: _The Stone Circle of Stenness as now Restored._] + +An upright stone is the simplest and most effective form of monument, and +is that which we most commonly use to this day to mark the resting-places +of our dead. To the ancient Orcadian it was a matter of more difficulty +to quarry and to transport and erect such monuments, and doubtless they +would be set up only in memory of some great event, such as a notable +victory, or the fall of a great chieftain. + +The great stone circles, such as those of Stenness and of Brogar, are +supposed to have served a different purpose. They are believed by many +to have been the temples of some primitive people, who met there to +worship their gods. It has also been supposed that the people who erected +those circles were sun-worshippers, as the situation of certain prominent +stones seems to have been determined by the position of the rising sun at +midsummer. + +[Illustration: _Fallen Cromlech or Table Stone, Sandwick._] + +But in these matters we cannot be certain of our conclusions. Most of +our great churches and cathedrals are placed east and west, with the +high altar towards the east, and even the graves in our churchyards +are usually similarly oriented; but this does not prove that we are +sun-worshippers, whatever our forefathers may have been before they +accepted Christianity. We may indulge in much speculation about them, and +form our own opinions as to what they originally meant, but those hoary +monoliths remain a mystery, and the purpose of their erection we can only +guess. + + + + +THE BEGINNINGS OF OUR HISTORY. + + +In the history of the ancient world some vague and fragmentary references +are made to our islands, but from these little real knowledge of them can +be gathered. As early as the time of Alexander the Great we come upon +some notices of certain northern islands, which must be either Orkney, +or the Hebrides, or Shetland, or the Faroes, but we cannot determine +which. The Phœnicians, who were the great sea-traders and explorers of +the early world, seem to have had a little knowledge of these northern +archipelagoes. + +In the time of the Roman occupation of Britain we have definite mention +of the Orcades, but nothing which shows any real knowledge of them. They +were visited by the fleet of Agricola after his invasion of Scotland, +as recorded by Tacitus. About three centuries later, the poet Claudian +sings of a victory by the Emperor Theodosius, who, we are told, sprinkled +Orcadian soil with Saxon blood. We are not told, however, who the people +called Saxons really were, or whether they were the inhabitants of the +islands or not. They may have been early Viking raiders who had fled +hither and been brought to bay among the group. + +Early Church history has also some references to Orkney. After +St. Columba had left the shores of Ireland to carry the message +of Christianity to the Picts and Scots in Scotland, another Irish +missionary, Cormac, went on a similar voyage among the Orkney Isles. Him, +therefore, we may regard as the apostle to the northern heathen. St. +Adamnan, the biographer of St. Columba, tells the story, and the name of +Adamnan himself is still commemorated in the name of the Isle of Damsay. + +After the visit of Cormac, the Culdee missionaries established themselves +in various parts of Orkney, as the place-names given by the Norsemen +show. In several of these names we find the word _pápa_, a form of +_pope_, which was the name applied to the monks or clergy of the Culdee +Church. Like Columba himself, who made the little island of Iona his +headquarters, his followers seem to have preferred the seclusion of the +smaller islands. To this habit are due such names as _Papa Westray_ and +_Papa Stronsay_. Other Church settlements have left their traces in names +such as _Paplay_ and _Papdale_. + +Another place-name which records an old-world mission station is that +of _Deerness_. At first sight this name seems rather to indicate that +abundance of deer were found there; and some writers tell us, by way of +proving this, that deer’s horns have been found in that parish. But as +deer’s horns have also been found in many other places in the county, +the proof is not convincing. We must remember that the Norse invaders +were likely to name the place on account of its appearance from the +sea. They may, of course, have noticed a chance herd of deer near the +cliffs; but one thing is certain to have caught their eye—the unusual +sight of a building of stone on the Brough of Deerness. Some remains of +this building, and of a later one on the same site, still exist; and it +was long regarded as in some way a sacred place, to which pilgrimages +were made. This building was in fact one of those outposts of early +Christianity—a Culdee monastery. When the Norse invaders came, they +doubtless found it occupied by some of the Culdee clergy—_diar_, as +they would be called by the strangers—and so the headland was named the +Priests’ Cape, or Deerness. + +It is quite possible that deer existed in Orkney down to the Norse +period, but they were much more likely to be found in the hilly regions +of the west Mainland, which was the earls’ hunting-ground. We read of an +Earl of Orkney going over to Caithness for the chase of the deer, which +seems to suggest that they were then scarce, if not extinct, in Orkney. + +Among the remains of the Culdee settlements which are still found are +monumental stones with Christian emblems inscribed on them, or with Irish +Ogham writing, and ancient bells, probably used in the churches. The +curious round tower which forms part of the old church of St. Magnus in +Egilsay is of a type common only in Ireland. The name of that island is +probably derived from an earlier church which the Norsemen found there, +and heard called by its Celtic name, _ecclais_. It has been supposed by +some that the name _Egilsay_ means Egil’s Island, so called after some +man named Egil; but the probability is that it meant the Church Island. + +All that we can learn, then, from the ancient relics of its first +inhabitants, and from the brief references to the islands by old +historians, amounts to very little. We know that Orkney was thickly +inhabited by some ancient people, living at first the primitive life +which is indicated by the use of stone implements. We may suppose that +they had at one time a religion in some way connected with sun-worship. +We know that they built earth-houses somewhat like the snow-houses of +the Eskimos, many of which still remain, and that, in some cases at +least, these have been used as places of burial by later inhabitants. +We know that at one period strong circular towers were built, probably +as fortresses, by a people of some degree of civilization. We know that +in the time of St. Columba Christian missionaries or monks visited the +islands, whose inhabitants were then probably of the race known as Picts, +and whose chiefs are said to have been subject to the Pictish king of +Northern Scotland. Some at least of those Culdees we may suppose to have +been hermits rather than missionaries, although they may have combined +the two characters. How many centuries of time are covered by these facts +and suppositions we do not know, but they sum up all that can be said +with certainty regarding Orkney before the coming of the Norsemen. + +There is one very curious fact about the beginnings of the Norse +records: they make no mention whatever of any inhabitants being found in +the islands. The place-names afford evidence, as we have seen, of the +presence of Culdee monks, but of other population there is no trace. The +new-comers seem to have settled as in an uninhabited land, each Viking +selecting and occupying his land without let or hindrance. + +If there had been a native population, and if these had been either +expelled or exterminated by the invaders, we should surely have been +told of it by the Saga writers, who would have delighted in telling such +a tale. It has accordingly been supposed that at the time of the Norse +settlement the islands were uninhabited save by the hermits of the Culdee +Church. When or how the former Pictish inhabitants disappeared it is +impossible to say. Possibly some early Viking raids, of which no history +remains, had resulted in the slaughter of many and the flight of the +rest to the less exposed lands south of the Pictland or Pentland Firth. +Whatever the reason may be, the chapter of our Island history which opens +with the Norse settlement is in no way a continuation of anything which +goes before, but begins a new story. + +[Illustration: _Carved Stone Balls._] + + + + +THE NORSEMEN AND THEIR SAGAS. + + +It is late in the eighth century before the Northman or Norseman appears +on the stage of history. From the day when Cæsar’s victorious legions +brought the Gauls, the Germans, and the Britons under the sway of the +imperial city, these nations of Western Europe are never again entirely +lost to history. But Scandinavia and the countries round the Baltic +remained unknown to Rome and to the world for long centuries afterwards. +“There nature ends,” one of the Roman writers has said, when speaking of +these northern lands. This brief yet expressive sentence well indicates +how completely outside the Roman world lay the countries which were the +cradle of our race. + +There is another side to all this, which we find it difficult to picture +clearly in our minds. To the inhabitants of Scandinavia and the lands +round the Baltic, the southern parts of Europe were equally unknown. We +find in a Scandinavian writer of the ninth century a description of an +expedition which was made by one of the Viking chiefs to this unknown +world. In the course of his travels he came upon a city which to the +Norseman seemed mysterious and dread—a city of Niflheim, the under-world. +This city, as we learn from contemporary Western writers, must have been +Paris. Paris, now the gay capital of Europe, and even then a city of +importance and of fame, was so unknown to the Norsemen of the early ninth +century that it was deemed a part of Niflheim, the under-world! + +During the period when the northern nations were hidden from the eye of +history, many changes must have been going on among them. The building +and management of ships could not have been learned in a day, and even +when we first catch sight of the Norsemen they were the finest and +most daring seamen in the world, and their ships probably the most +perfect hitherto seen. Many voyages among their own islands and in the +Baltic must have preceded the longer voyages to Britain, to Iceland, to +Greenland, and to America. Numerous wars there must have been, quite +unknown to history, before the northern warrior became the terrible +fighter of the Viking Age. + +We can imagine the delighted wonder with which the northern warriors +first gazed upon the rich and fertile shores of South-Western Europe. +We can imagine how they contrasted the fair fields and great cities of +the south with the bleak and sterile shores of the north from which they +came. What motives first led to their leaving their native shores it is +difficult to say. Thirst for adventure, the pinch of poverty at home, the +desire of possessing gold and treasure, all conspired to make them seek +their fortunes in the wide and unknown lands which lay beyond the sea. +When the first adventurers brought home accounts of the lands which they +had seen—the fruitful fields, the great cities, the rich merchandise, +and the yellow gold—great numbers of their fellow-countrymen would be +seized with a longing to visit those wonderful shores where wealth was +to be had for the taking. The roving spirit once roused spread rapidly +over the northern lands. The storm of Viking fury burst on the lands of +Western Europe almost without warning. + +In the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, under the date A.D. 787, we read: “In this +year King Beorhtric took Eadburh, King Offa’s daughter, to wife. And in +his days first came three ships of Northmen from Haerethaland, and the +reeve rode down to them and would drive them to the king’s _vill_, for +he knew not what men they were, and they there slew him. These were the +first ships of Danish men that sought the land of the English.” Thus we +read of the first mutterings of the storm which was so soon to burst on +the coasts of Western Europe. During the succeeding two centuries and a +half the English learned to know well what men these were who came out of +the wild north-east. The monks’ litany, “From the fury of the Northmen +deliver us, O Lord!” tells us what _they_ thought of them. + +[Illustration: EXPEDITIONS AND SETTLEMENTS OF THE NORSEMEN] + +We can trace two distinct roads which the Viking raids followed. One, +traversed chiefly by the Danes, led along the shores of Northern Europe +to England, the English Channel, France, Spain, and the Mediterranean; +the other, traversed chiefly by the Norsemen, led straight across the +North Sea to the Orkneys, thence along the west coast of Scotland, to +Ireland and the west of England. The islands lying off the coasts of +Scotland, England, Ireland, and France were seized by the invaders, and +from these as bases their raids extended far and wide. Monasteries +felt the utmost fury of their attacks, for there they knew they would +find abundance of spoil. At first the invaders confined themselves to +plundering expeditions. The Norsemen early turned their attention to +settlement and commerce; the Danes, on the other hand, remained for a +longer period intent on plunder alone. + +Civil wars in Western Europe had rendered the nations there incapable +of effective resistance to the ruthless invaders. The Vikings descended +now at one point, now at another. When they met with a more stubborn +resistance than usual, they merely retired to their ships with whatever +plunder they had seized, and sailed away to make an attack somewhere +else. They wintered on the islands which they had seized, and as soon as +spring was come they descended once more on the devoted lands. Ireland +suffered severely at their hands. The Orkneys and the Hebrides became +nests of Vikings; in fact, colonies of them must have been established +there at a very early date. In these islands they were safe from all +interference—a law to themselves; for as yet there was no arm in Europe +long enough and strong enough to reach them. Nowhere could a more +convenient base have been found for Viking raids on the British and Irish +shores. + +The first half-century of the Viking Age saw the Danes settled merely in +outlying parts of the east coast of England. The Norsemen, on the other +hand, had already seized on Orkney, Shetland, the Hebrides, and large +tracts of Eastern Ireland. The first fifty years of the Viking Age may be +called the first period of Norse colonization in the west. + +It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that the Norsemen were +merely turbulent sea-robbers, or that the only result of their migrations +was to hinder the progress of civilization in Western Europe. As settlers +in other countries, they brought new strength and vitality to the land +of their adoption; but instead of remaining separate colonies, they were +soon absorbed into the native population, and had no further history of +their own. + +Yet there were two great settlements abroad which left a deep mark on +European history. The one was the colonization of the north of France, +afterwards called Normandy. There the Norsemen soon adopted the language +and the religion of the country, but retained so much of their native +characteristics that the subsequent Norman Conquest of England may be +regarded as really a Norse inroad of a specially successful type. The +other settlement was that in the south of Italy and Sicily, later known +as the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, which occupied an important place in +history during the Middle Ages. + +Even the British settlements for the most part had only a brief period +of separate history, and soon became merged into the general stream of +national life. In Orkney and Shetland, however, where there was probably +no native population at the time of the Norse invasion, the colony +developed along its own special lines, and has left behind it a history +which for centuries remained distinct from that of the rest of Great +Britain. + +The history of the Orkney Islands during the period of the Norse +occupation is preserved for us in the Icelandic _Sagas_. Iceland was one +of the earliest and most important Norse colonies, and there the old +Northern language was preserved better than anywhere else. The Sagas are +stories which, in the times of long ago, were told around the fires in +Iceland and other Norse colonies to while away the long winter evenings. +At festivals and merry-makings, during long voyages, or by the winter +fireside, the Norseman listened eagerly to the recital of deeds done by +his kinsmen in other times and in other lands. Storytelling was a popular +pastime, and the man who knew many Sagas was ever a welcome guest. + +Many of the Sagas have now been translated into English, and all of +these are well worth reading. The greatest of all the Sagas is generally +thought to be the Saga of Burnt Njal. It is one of the noblest stories +to be found in any language, and it is besides nobly told. In this Saga +we find the best account of the great battle of Clontarf. Among the +other great Sagas are the Saga of the Settlers on the Ayre, the Saga of +Laxdale, the Saga of Egil the son of Skallagrim, the Saga of Grettir the +Strong, and the Saga of the Volsungs. The two last are mythical Sagas; +they do not tell of real historical personages, but are paraphrases of +old songs and legends which have come down from a more distant past. The +Anglo-Saxon Saga of Beowulf tells some of the same stories, and is not a +real Saga in the sense of a true story told by the fireside. + +The stories of the earls and chiefs of Orkney form part of the great +store of Saga literature, and these have come down to us in the form +of the “Orkneyinga Saga.” It must be remembered, however, that this is +merely the summary of a great number of stories which had been told long +before by men who had no doubt taken part in the events related. It was +a Saga-man’s pride to tell the truth—at least as it was told to him—and +so we may in the main rely on the Orkney Saga as a true account of events +which happened, although sometimes it may be exceedingly difficult to +assign the correct dates. The Orkney Saga is not usually reckoned among +the great Sagas. It partakes more of the nature of a general history than +of a single and complete story. This Saga is the chief source of our +knowledge of the history of our islands during Norse times. + +The Orkney Saga consists of several parts, each of which might be +called a separate Saga—the Earls’ Saga, Magnus’s Saga, and Rognvald’s +Saga. The first relates the history of Orkney from its conquest by King +Harald Fairhair of Norway down to the death of Earl Thorfinn, about the +time of the Norman Conquest of England. The second relates the lives +of Thorfinn’s sons, Paul and Erlend, but more especially of the holy +Earl Magnus, of his murder, and of the wonderful things that happened +afterwards through his holiness. The third part tells of the earls after +St. Magnus, chiefly Earl Rognvald the Second, and the great Viking, Sweyn +Asleifson of Gairsay, generally known as “the last of the Vikings.” The +whole history given in the Orkney Saga includes the events of the three +centuries from 900 to 1200. + +In addition to what we learn from the Orkney Saga, we glean a few facts +about the history of our islands from other Sagas, such as the Sagas of +the Kings of Norway, usually called the “Heimskringla.” There are also +many Norse poems which scholars say must have been written in Orkney, or +in some other of the western Norse colonies, and from these we can learn +much about the life of the people, their thoughts, and their beliefs, +though very little about the actual history of the islands. We do not +know who were the authors of these poems, but some of them were really +great poets, greater, perhaps, than any then living in any other part of +Europe. + +Finally, there are occasional glimpses of our Norse ancestors to be +caught in the pages of the chronicles and histories of the nations. +Unfortunately, these references are so often distorted by fear or +hatred, or so confused through scanty and imperfect knowledge, that they +add very little to what we already know from Norse records. One good +purpose, indeed, they serve: they show that the Saga-men were in the main +truth-tellers, so that we can place reliance on their stories, even where +these are not found in the records of other nations. The Saga-men also +fill up many gaps in the history of those countries which the Norsemen +visited, and thus they render our knowledge of the Viking Age more +complete, more detailed, and more accurate, even as regards countries +which were to them foreign lands. + +[Illustration: _Ancient Bronze Spear-head; Horn Mounting still +preserved._] + + + + +THE BEGINNING OF THE EARLDOM. + + +Before our story begins, Norway was divided into a number of small +kingdoms. About the year 890 A.D. a king called Harald, who ruled +over one of these small kingdoms, resolved to make himself master of +all Norway. He made a vow that he would not cut his hair until he was +acknowledged king throughout the whole country. This ambitious aim took +some time to accomplish, and as the years passed his thick locks grew +long and shaggy. Thus he got the name of Harald Shockhead. + +One after another, however, he subdued the smaller kingdoms, compelling +the earls and chiefs to acknowledge him as their king, or to leave +the country. Then began what may be called the second period of Norse +colonization in the west. Many of the proudest and boldest of the +Norsemen, deeming it a disgrace to serve a king who was at best only +their equal, preferred to trust themselves and all their belongings to +the ocean, and take whatever fortune might await them. + +Those nobles who fled from Norway, regarding Harald as their enemy, soon +began to spread terror along the shores of Norway itself, returning to +plunder, and slay, and burn, as their fellow-countrymen had so often done +in the west. Their chief haunts were among the Orkneys and the Hebrides. +Thither they betook themselves with their booty when winter came on. +There they lived and feasted all through the winter, and when spring +came they descended once more on the coasts of Norway. Ireland and the +west coast of England also suffered from these raiders, and in France a +determined effort to conquer the country was at this time made by the +Norsemen. Hrolf or Rollo, the Norseman, became master of the north of +France, and gave to it a new name—Normandy, the land of the Normans or +Norsemen. + +The last great effort made by these Norse nobles to break the power of +King Harald was foiled by their defeat at Hafursfrith. A great league had +been formed against Harald. Vikings from over the sea crowded back to +Norway to avenge their own injuries and to help their kinsmen. The two +fleets met at Hafursfrith in the south of Norway, and a long and stubborn +battle ended in victory for Harald. This battle had far-reaching results. +It was the end of the struggle for independence in Norway. Harald was +then left free to turn his attention to the chastisement of the Vikings +in the west. The result was the foundation of the Norse Empire in the +west, and the colonization of Iceland and Greenland by those Norsemen who +still scorned to own the sway of the Norwegian king. + +With a large and splendidly equipped fleet, Harald swooped down on the +Vikings in Orkney and the Hebrides. Their resistance was feeble enough. +Some yielded themselves to the king; others fled before him. Nowhere +was there anything like a pitched battle. As far south as the Isle of +Man, Harald pursued his career of conquest. Turning north once more, he +established Norse jarldoms or earldoms in Orkney and the Hebrides, to be +subject henceforth to the Norwegian crown. Then, considering that his vow +was fulfilled, Harald at last had his long hair cut, and was afterwards +known as Harald Fairhair. + +One of Harald’s chief friends and supporters was Rognvald, Earl of Moeri +and Romsdal, who was called by the men of his time, “The mighty and wise +in council.” This Rognvald was the father of Rollo of Normandy. He had +other sons named Ivar, Thorir, Rollaug, Hallad, and Einar, and he had +a brother called Sigurd. The family makes a very large figure in the +history of those times. In one of Harald’s battles in the west fell Ivar, +Rognvald’s son. Harald assigned to Rognvald the newly created Jarldom of +Orkney in order to compensate him in some measure for the loss of his +son. But Rognvald had already large estates in Norway. He thought that +these were quite enough for one man to govern. Accordingly he handed over +the Orkneys to his brother Sigurd, who thus became the first Jarl or Earl. + +Sigurd, the first Earl of Orkney, sometimes called Sigurd the Mighty, +was a strong and energetic ruler. When King Harald departed for Norway, +the earl at once began to strengthen himself in his new dominions. He +first allied himself with Thorstein the Red, son of the Norse king of +Dublin, and with the Norsemen in the Hebrides, and then invaded Scotland +in an attempt to add to his earldom Caithness and Sutherland. The Scots +naturally offered a determined resistance. Their leader was Maelbride +or Melbrigda—called Melbrigda Tusk because he had a large projecting +tooth—Earl or Maormor of Ross. + +After the war had lasted for some time, the two earls agreed to meet and +settle their quarrel, each taking forty men with him. On the day fixed +for the meeting, Sigurd, suspecting, as he said, the good faith of the +Scots, mounted two men on each of his forty horses, and came thus to the +place appointed. As soon as the Norsemen appeared in sight, Melbrigda saw +that he had been trapped, and turning to his men, said, “We have been +betrayed by Sigurd, for I see two feet on each horse’s side. The men must +therefore be twice as numerous as the horses that bear them. Nevertheless +let us harden our hearts and sell our lives as dearly as we can.” + +Seeing the Scots prepared to die hard in the place where they were, +Sigurd divided his force and attacked them at once in front and in flank. +The battle was fierce and bloody, but it ended in the total extermination +of the small band of Scots. Sigurd, exulting over his fallen foe, cut +off Melbrigda’s head and fixed it to his saddle. On his way home, in +spurring his horse his leg struck against the great projecting tooth +which had given Melbrigda his nickname, and the tooth pierced his leg. +Blood-poisoning followed, and a few days later Earl Sigurd died in great +pain on the banks of the Dornoch Firth. He was buried at a place now +called Cyder Hall (Sigurd’s Howe), near Skibo Castle. + +Sigurd was succeeded in the earldom by his son Guttorm. Guttorm ruled the +islands for one short and uneventful winter, and then died childless. +For some time the earldom was without a ruler. Vikings once more began +to make the Orkneys their headquarters, and to harass the more peaceful +inhabitants of the islands. When King Harald heard that the Orkneys +were without a ruler, he asked Earl Rognvald to make haste to send them +another earl. Rognvald then had the title of Earl of Orkney conferred on +his son Hallad, who sailed for the west as the third earl. But Hallad was +weak and indolent. The western earldom was too turbulent and difficult +to govern. He soon wearied of his dignity, and at last, deserting his +earldom, went back to Norway. After his ignominious withdrawal from the +earldom, the islands came under the rule of two Danish Vikings. + +Although Hallad preferred a simple farmer’s life to an earl’s dignity, +there were others of Rognvald’s sons who were more ambitious. Einar +especially was eager to redeem the family honour by the expulsion of the +Vikings from the islands. Accordingly Einar was chosen as Earl of Orkney, +and after King Harald had conferred on him the title, he set out for his +earldom. The old Earl of Moeri had never regarded his youngest son with +much favour, and, to tell the truth, neither desired to see the other’s +face again. + +Einar was the best and greatest of the early Norse earls. In appearance +he was tall and manly; his face was somewhat disfigured by the loss of an +eye, but in spite of this he was reputed to be very sharp-sighted. His +father had prophesied that Einar would never become a great chief; yet he +became the most famous of all Earl Rognvald’s sons, with the exception +of Rollo of Normandy. + +The earldom was in a state of great disorder when Einar arrived. The +Vikings had to be expelled, the government had to be settled and +established, and the people had to learn to trust and obey their new +earl. All these things were accomplished in a marvellously short space +of time. The new earl also taught his people many useful arts. Wood was +scarce: Einar knew that the people of Scotland used peat for fuel, and he +taught the Norsemen in the islands to do the same. From this he got the +name of Torf-Einar. + +Soon a serious trouble arose. King Harald’s sons had now grown up to be +very turbulent and overbearing men. They quarrelled with their father’s +chiefs and earls. Two of them, Halfdan Highleg and Gudrod Bright, +attacked and slew Rognvald, Earl of Moeri. Harald was enraged that his +sons should thus murder his best and most faithful counsellor and friend. +He marched against them with an army, and ordered them to be seized and +brought before him. Gudrod gave himself up to his father, but Halfdan +seized a ship and sailed west to the Orkneys. + +Halfdan’s sudden arrival in the earldom caused panic for a time. Einar +was quite unprepared for an invasion. He accordingly thought it wiser +to escape to Caithness until he had time to collect his forces. In the +meantime Halfdan seized the government of the isles, taking the title +of King of Orkney and Shetland. The same summer saw Einar back in the +Orkneys with a fleet and an army to regain his earldom. The two fleets +met somewhere off the island of Sanday. A fierce battle took place, and +Halfdan’s force was practically annihilated. In the dusk of the evening +he himself leaped overboard and escaped. + +Next morning the shores were searched for fugitives. All who were found +were slain, but Halfdan himself had disappeared. While the search was +still proceeding, Einar was observed to stop suddenly and gaze across the +sea towards the island of North Ronaldsay, or Rinansey, as it was then +called. + +“What see’st thou, jarl?” asked one of his companions. “I know not what +it is,” was the reply. “Sometimes it appears to rise up, and sometimes +to lie down. It is either a bird in the air or a man on the rocks, and I +will find out.” + +This object which the earl saw was Halfdan, who had probably just dragged +his weary limbs from the water, and was now struggling up over the rocks +to the land. The earl’s men pursued and captured him. He was at once +brought before the earl, who ordered him to be slain, to avenge his +father’s murder, and as a sacrifice to Odin for the victory. + +Angry as King Harald had been because of the murder of Earl Rognvald, the +death of his son at the hands of Rognvald’s son was not likely to be very +agreeable to him. Harald therefore determined to make a second expedition +to the west. + +When Einar heard of Harald’s intended visit to the Orkneys, he thought +that he would be safer out of the king’s way, and accordingly he crossed +the Pentland Firth. Messengers went backwards and forwards between the +king and the earl for a while, arranging terms of settlement. At length +the king demanded that the earldom should pay a fine of sixty marks. To +that Einar agreed, and King Harald Fairhair bade farewell to his western +dominions for ever. + +It was no easy matter for the Orkneymen to raise the sixty marks, and the +earl called a Thing or council to discuss the matter. At length the earl +offered to pay the whole fine himself, on condition that all the freehold +or udal lands of the Orkneymen were handed over to him in pledge for the +amount that each had to pay, and to this the islanders agreed. + +In this way the earl came into possession of all the udal lands in the +Orkneys; and it was not till the time of Earl Sigurd the Stout, a century +later, that the udal rights were restored to the Orkneymen. Earl Einar +spent the rest of his days in peace. The earldom was well ruled. Vikings +were afraid to plunder the dominions of so powerful a chief; and after +a long and honourable reign the good earl died on a sickbed—what the +Vikings called a “straw death”—about the year 933. + +[Illustration: _Remains of a Viking Ship found in Sweden._] + + + + +THE DARK CENTURY. + + +The tenth century may fittingly be called the dark century of Orcadian +history. We know very little of it except occasional glimpses afforded +by obscure references in the Sagas; and the little that we do know tells +of treachery and bloodshed and murder to an extent unusual even in the +troubled annals of Orkney. + +After the death of Torf-Einar the earldom came into the hands of his +three sons, Thorfinn—usually called Thorfinn Skull-splitter—Arnkell, and +Erlend. The disturbed state of Norway, consequent on the death of Harald +Fairhair about the year 945, caused turmoil and confusion throughout all +those lands which had been conquered and settled by the Norsemen. Harald +left behind him a brood of wild, reckless sons, each of whom thought he +had a right to a share of his father’s dominions. They filled the whole +land with turbulence and bloodshed. + +Eric Bloody-axe had been Harald’s favourite son, and he at first took +over the chief rule in Norway. He was a brave and skilful warrior, +but passionate, avaricious, and treacherous in his disposition. The +same qualities were possessed in an even greater degree by his queen, +Gunnhilda. Their deeds of violence soon estranged the hearts of their +subjects. + +Hakon, Harald’s youngest son, who had been brought up in England under +the care of King Athelstan, came to Norway to claim his share of his +father’s dominions. Hakon was at this time only in his fifteenth year, +but he was daring and ambitious, and was the darling of the Norsemen both +at home and abroad. Eric Bloody-axe and Gunnhilda were, on the other +hand, regarded everywhere with hatred and detestation. When, therefore, +Hakon invaded Norway and attempted to wrest the sovereignty from the +hands of his elder brother, the latter was deserted by his people and was +forced to flee from the country. + +Eric crossed first to Orkney, where he gathered a band of followers as +reckless as himself, and then held on to England and began to ravage +the land in the usual Viking fashion. Close friendship had long existed +between Athelstan and Harald Fairhair. Athelstan professed similar +friendship for Harald’s sons, and now offered Eric the lordship of +Northumbria. Eric was not so foolish as to reject this offer. Gunnhilda +and he with their family abode in peace in Northumbria for about a year. + +With the death of Athelstan fortune began once more to frown upon the +exiled king. King Edmund thought it by no means desirable that the +Norsemen should hold so large a portion of his kingdom. Knowing the +insecurity of his tenure, Eric’s reckless spirit flashed at once into +open rebellion. He left Northumbria, sailed to Orkney, seized the Earls +Arnkell and Erlend, forced many other Orcadian chiefs to join him, and +made a Viking raid on the west coast of England. The raiders met with +resistance and a battle was fought; in this battle fell Eric himself, +both the Orkney earls, and most of the other leaders. + +When news of this disastrous expedition reached Gunnhilda, who had +remained with her family in Northumbria, she in turn embarked for Orkney. +She and her sons claimed the earldom, seized the taxes, and spread wrong +and oppression over all the western colonies. For a short time the +islands suffered the same misgovernment as Norway had already suffered at +her hands. But war now broke out between Norway and Denmark. This seemed +to afford her a chance of regaining the Norwegian crown, and Gunnhilda +and her family sailed eastwards once more. Ragnhilda, her daughter, +was left behind in Orkney to continue for a time her mother’s acts of +treachery and bloodshed. + +There are few worse characters in history than Ragnhilda as depicted +by the Saga. She seemed to have a mania for plots and murders. Married +first to Arnfinn, one of the sons of Earl Thorfinn, she caused him to be +murdered at Murkle in Caithness, for no reason that we can find out, and +then married his brother Havard. On the death of his father Thorfinn, +shortly afterwards, Havard became earl. He is known in history as Havard +the Harvest-happy, because during his time the islands were blessed +with good harvests. Havard also met his death at the instigation of +his wife. Ragnhilda persuaded Einar Oily-tongue, his nephew, to murder +the earl, promising to marry him and secure for him the earldom when +the deed was done. Einar set on Havard in Stenness, and slew him after +a hard struggle. But it was apparently no part of Ragnhilda’s plan to +marry Einar Oily-tongue. She now professed the greatest indignation and +grief at the murder of Earl Havard, and called for vengeance on his +murderer. Einar Oily-tongue had a cousin, also called Einar. He in turn +fell a victim to the wiles of Ragnhilda. By promising or at least hinting +that she would marry the man who avenged the murder of Earl Havard, she +succeeded in getting the second Einar to murder the first, and ended by +marrying Ljot, the third son of Earl Thorfinn, who was the real heir to +the earldom. + +This was by no means the end of Ragnhilda’s wickedness. Ljot had a +brother, Skuli, who was not at all satisfied that the former should have +the whole earldom. It was an easy matter to make trouble between the two +brothers. In the end Skuli left the islands for Scotland, and became Earl +of Caithness and a vassal of the Scottish king. Bad feeling continued +between the brothers, and was carefully fostered by Ragnhilda. Ultimately +they met in arms in Caithness, Skuli with a Scottish army, and Ljot with +the forces of the earldom. The Scots were defeated and Skuli slain. + +Ljot now added Caithness to his earldom, but the Scots again and again +strove to reconquer it. Finally a great battle was fought at Skidmire in +Caithness. The Norsemen gained the day, but the earl was fatally wounded. +There remained one son of Thorfinn Skull-splitter, named Hlodver, who now +became earl over an earldom exhausted and impoverished by twenty years +of misgovernment and bloodshed, and embroiled in an arduous struggle with +Scotland for the possession of Caithness. + +The Orkney earldom, however, was now on the eve of a great expansion. +Under the son and grandson of Hlodver, Sigurd the Stout and Thorfinn +the Mighty, the Norse dominion in the west attained its widest bounds, +and the earldom of Orkney its greatest importance. For more than half a +century, with little or no interference from Norway, the Orkney earls +helped to mould the history of Ireland and of Scotland; and until the +union of England and Denmark took place under Canute, the Norse Earls of +Orkney were probably the most powerful chieftains in the British Isles. + +It was in the time of Earl Sigurd that Christianity was first introduced +among the Norse inhabitants of Orkney. Olaf, Tryggvi’s son, King of +Norway, had embraced the new faith, and his methods of promoting the +religion which he professed were characteristic of his time and race. The +story of the conversion of Earl Sigurd and his followers is thus given in +the Saga:— + +“Olaf, Tryggvi’s son, sailed from the west to the Orkneys; but because +the Pentland Firth was not passable, he laid his ship up under the lee in +Osmund’s Voe, off Rognvald’s Isle. But there in the voe lay already Earl +Sigurd, Hlodver’s son, with three ships, and then meant to go a-roving. +But as soon as King Olaf knew that the earl was there, he made them +call him to come and speak with him. But when the earl came on board +the king’s ship, King Olaf began his speech.” (We pass over his long +historical review of the establishment of the Orkney earldom and its +dependence upon the kings of Norway, and give only his closing sentences.) + +“‘Now, as so it is, Earl Sigurd, that thou hast come into my power, now +thou hast two choices before thee, very uneven. One is that thou shalt +take the right faith and become my man, and allow thyself to be baptized +and all thy undermen; then shalt thou have a sure hope of honour from me, +and to have and to hold as my underman this realm, with earl’s title and +full freedom as thou hast erewhile had it; and this over and above, which +is much more worth, to rule in everlasting bliss with all-ruling God—that +is sure to thee if thou keepest all His commandments. This is the other +choice, which is very doleful and unlike the first—that now on the spot +thou shalt die, and after thy death I shall let fire and sword ruthlessly +rage over all the Orkneys, burn and brand homesteads and men, unless this +folk will have salvation and believe on the true God....’ + +“But when Earl Sigurd had heard so long and clever a speech of King Olaf, +he hardened his heart against him, and spoke thus: ‘It must be told thee, +King Olaf, that I have firmly made up my mind that I will not and may +not and shall not forego that faith which my kinsmen and forefathers had +before me: for I know no better counsel than they, and I know not that +that faith is better which thou preachest than this which we have now had +and held all our lives.’ + +“And with that the king saw the earl so stiffnecked in his error, he +seized his young son, whom the earl had with him, and who had grown up +there in the isles. This son of the earl the king bore forward on the +prow and drew his sword, and made ready to cut off the lad’s head, with +these words, ‘Now mayst thou see, Earl Sigurd, that I will spare no man +who will not serve Almighty God, or listen to my exhortations and hearken +to this blessed message; and for that I will now on this very spot slay +this thy son before thine eyes, with this same sword which I grasp, +unless thou and thy men serve my God; for hence out of the isles will I +not go before I have forwarded and fulfilled this His glorious errand, +and thou and thy son, whom I now hold, have taken on you baptism.’ + +“And in the strait to which the earl was now come, he chose the choice +which the king would have, and which was better for him, to take the +right faith. Then the earl was baptized, and all the folk in the Orkneys. +After that Earl Sigurd was made after this world’s honour King Olaf’s +earl, and held under him lands and fiefs, and gave him for an hostage +that same son of his of whom it was spoken before; he was called Whelp +or Hound. Olaf made them christen the lad by the name of Hlodver, and +carried him away with him to Norway. Earl Sigurd bound with oaths all +their agreement, and next after that Olaf sailed away from the Orkneys, +but set up there behind him priests to mend the folk’s ways and teach +them holy wisdom; so they, King Olaf and Sigurd, parted with friendship. +Hlodver lived but a scanty time; but after that he was dead Earl Sigurd +showed King Olaf no service. He took to wife then the daughter of Malcolm +the Scot King, and Thorfinn was their son.” + +So does the Saga tell this dramatic tale; and we may notice that the +earl’s allegiance to the new faith was as fickle as his fidelity to the +king, for a few years later we find him fighting in the ranks of the +heathen against the Christian king, Brian of Ireland, under the shadow of +his raven banner, a flag endowed by his mother’s spells with the twofold +magical power of ensuring victory to those who followed it, but death to +him who bore it. + +The story of “King Brian’s battle,” or the battle of Clontarf, is one of +the most stirring in the old records, and we give it here as told by the +Saga-man:— + +“Then King Sigtrygg [of Ireland] stirred in his business with Earl +Sigurd, and egged him on to go to the war with King Brian. The earl +was long steadfast, but the end of it was that he said it might come +about. He said he must have his mother’s hand for his help, and be king +in Ireland if they slew Brian. But all his men besought Earl Sigurd +not to go into the war, but it was all no good. So they parted on the +understanding that Earl Sigurd gave his word to go; but King Sigtrygg +promised him his mother and the kingdom. It was so settled that Earl +Sigurd was to come with all his host to Dublin by Palm Sunday. + +“Then King Sigtrygg fared south to Ireland, and told his mother, +Kormlada, that the earl had undertaken to come, and also what he had +pledged himself to grant him. She showed herself well pleased at that, +but said they must gather greater force still. Sigtrygg asked whence this +was to be looked for. She said that there were two Vikings lying off +the west of Man; and they had thirty ships, and ‘they are men of such +hardihood that nothing can withstand them. The one’s name is Ospak, and +the other’s Brodir. Thou shalt fare to find them, and spare nothing to +get them into thy quarrel, whatever price they ask.’ + +“Now King Sigtrygg fares and seeks the Vikings, and found them lying +outside off Man. King Sigtrygg brings forward his errand at once; but +Brodir shrank from helping him until he, King Sigtrygg, promised him the +kingdom and his mother, and they were to keep this such a secret that +Earl Sigurd should know nothing about it. Brodir, too, was to come to +Dublin on Palm Sunday. King Sigtrygg fared home to his mother and told +her how things stood. After that those brothers, Ospak and Brodir, talked +together; and then Brodir told Ospak all that he and Sigtrygg had spoken +of, and bade him fare to battle with him against King Brian, and said +he set much store on his going. Ospak said he would not fight against +so good a king. Then they were both wrath, and sundered their band at +once. Ospak had ten ships and Brodir twenty. Ospak was a heathen, and +the wisest of all men. He laid his ships inside in a sound, but Brodir +lay outside him. Brodir had been a Christian man and a mass-deacon by +consecration; but he had thrown off his faith and become God’s dastard, +and now worshipped heathen fiends, and he was of all men most skilled in +sorcery. He had that coat of mail on which no steel would bite. He was +both tall and strong, and had such long locks that he tucked them under +his belt. His hair was black. + +“It so happened one night that a great din passed over Brodir and his +men, so that they all woke, and sprang up and put on their clothes. Along +with that came a shower of boiling blood. Then they covered themselves +with their shields, but for all that many were scalded. This wonder +lasted all till day, and a man had died on board every ship. Then they +slept during the day. The second night there was again a din, and again +they all sprang up. Then swords leapt out of their sheaths, and axes and +spears flew about in the air and fought. The weapons pressed them so +hard that they had to shield themselves; but still many were wounded, +and again a man died out of every ship. This wonder lasted all till day. +Then they slept again the day after. The third night there was a din of +the same kind. Then ravens flew at them, and it seemed to them as though +their beaks and claws were of iron. The ravens pressed them so hard that +they had to keep them off with their swords, and covered themselves with +their shields. This went on again till day, and then another man had died +in every ship. + +“Then they went to sleep first of all; but when Brodir woke up, he drew +his breath painfully, and bade them put off the boat, ‘For,’ said he, ‘I +will go to see Ospak.’ Then he got into the boat and some men with him. +But when he found Ospak he told him of the wonders which had befallen +them, and bade him say what he thought they boded. Ospak would not tell +him before he pledged him peace, and Brodir promised him peace; but Ospak +still shrank from telling him till night fell, for Brodir never slew a +man by night. + +“Then Ospak spoke, and said, ‘When blood rained on you, therefore shall +ye shed many men’s blood, both of your own and others. But when ye heard +a great din, then ye must have been shown the crack of doom, and ye +shall all die speedily. But when weapons fought against you, that must +forebode a battle. But when ravens pressed you, that marks the devils +which ye put faith in, and who will drag you all down to the pains of +hell.’ + +“Then Brodir was so wrath that he could answer never a word. But he went +at once to his men, and made them lay his ships in a line across the +sound, and moor them by bearing cables on shore, and meant to slay them +all next morning. Ospak saw all their plan. Then he vowed to take the +true faith, and to go to King Brian and follow him till his death-day. +Then he took that counsel to lay his ships in a line, and punt them along +the shore with poles, and cut the cables of Brodir’s ships. Then the +ships of Brodir’s men began to fall aboard of one another. But they were +all fast asleep; and then Ospak and his men got out of the firth, and so +west to Ireland, and came to Kincora. Then Ospak told King Brian all that +he had learnt, and took baptism, and gave himself over into the king’s +hand. After that King Brian made them gather force over all his realm, +and the whole host was to come to Dublin in the week before Palm Sunday. + +“Earl Sigurd, Hlodver’s son, busked him from the Orkneys, and Flosi +offered to go with him. The earl would not have that, since he had his +pilgrimage to fulfil. Flosi offered fifteen men of his band to go on the +voyage, and the earl accepted them; but Flosi fared with Earl Gilli to +the Southern Isles. Thorstein, the son of Hall of the Side, went along +with Earl Sigurd, and Hrafn the Red, and Erling of Straumey. He would not +that Hareck should go, but said he would be sure to tell him first the +tidings of his voyage. The earl came with all his host on Palm Sunday to +Dublin, and there, too, was come Brodir with all his host. Brodir tried +by sorcery how the fight would go. But the answer ran thus, that if the +fight were on Good Friday, King Brian would fall but win the day; but if +they fought before, they would all fall who were against him. Then Brodir +said that they must not fight before the Friday.... + +“King Brian came with all his host to the burg; and on the Friday the +host fared out of the burg, and both armies were drawn up in array. +Brodir was on one wing of the battle, but King Sigtrygg on the other. +Earl Sigurd was in the mid-battle. Now, it must be told of King Brian +that he would not fight on the fast-day, and so a shieldburg was thrown +round him, and his host was drawn up in array in front of it. Wolf the +Quarrelsome was on that wing of the battle against which Brodir stood. +But on the other wing, where Sigtrygg stood against them, were Ospak +and his sons. But in mid-battle was Kerthialfad, and before him the +banners were borne. Now the wings fall on one another, and there was a +very hard fight. Brodir went through the host of the foe, and felled all +the foremost that stood there, but no steel would bite on him. Wolf the +Quarrelsome turned then to meet him, and thrust at him twice so hard that +Brodir fell before him at each thrust, and was well-nigh not getting on +his feet again. But as soon as ever he found his feet, he fled away into +the wood at once. + +“Earl Sigurd had a hard battle against Kerthialfad, and Kerthialfad +came on so fast that he laid low all who were in the front rank, and +he broke the array of Earl Sigurd right up to his banner, and slew the +banner-bearer. Then he got another man to bear the banner, and there +was again a hard fight. Kerthialfad smote this man too his death-blow +at once, and so on one after the other all who stood near him. Then +Earl Sigurd called on Thorstein, the son of Hall of the Side, to bear +the banner, and Thorstein was just about to lift the banner. But then +Amundi the White said, ‘Don’t bear the banner! for all they who bear it +get their death.’ ‘Hrafn the Red!’ called out Earl Sigurd, ‘bear thou +the banner.’ ‘Bear thine own devil thyself,’ answered Hrafn. Then the +earl said, ‘’Tis fittest that the beggar should bear the bag;’ and with +that he took the banner from the staff and put it under his cloak. A +little after, Amundi the White was slain, and then the earl was pierced +through with a spear. Ospak had gone through all the battle on his wing. +He had been sore wounded, and lost both his sons ere King Sigtrygg fled +before him. Then flight broke out throughout all the host. Thorstein, +Hall of the Side’s son, stood still while all the others fled, and tied +his shoestring. Then Kerthialfad asked why he ran not as the others. +‘Because,’ said Thorstein, ‘I can’t get home to-night, since I am at home +out in Iceland.’ Kerthialfad gave him peace.... + +“Now Brodir saw that King Brian’s men were chasing the fleers, and that +there were few men by the shieldburg. Then he rushed out of the wood, and +broke through the shieldburg, and hewed at the king. The lad Takt threw +his arm in the way, and the stroke took it off and the king’s head too; +but the king’s blood came on the lad’s stump, and the stump was healed +by it on the spot. Then Brodir called out with a loud voice, ‘Now man can +tell that Brodir felled Brian.’ Then men ran after those who were chasing +the fleers, and they were told that King Brian had fallen; and then they +turned back straightway, both Wolf the Quarrelsome and Kerthialfad. Then +they threw a ring round Brodir and his men, and threw branches of trees +upon them, and so Brodir was taken alive.... After that they took King +Brian’s body and laid it out. The king’s head had grown to the trunk.... + +“This event happened in the Orkneys, that Hareck thought he saw Earl +Sigurd, and some men with him. Then Hareck took his horse and rode to +meet the earl. Men say that they met and rode under a brae; but they were +never seen again, and not a scrap was ever found of Hareck.” + + _From the “Njala Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L. + (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_ + +[Illustration: _Ancient Bronze Weapons and Ornaments._] + + + + +EARL THORFINN AND EARL ROGNVALD. + + +Earl Sigurd, as has been mentioned, took as his second wife the daughter +of Malcolm the Second, King of Scots. They had but one son, Thorfinn, +called the Mighty, the greatest of his race, who became the most powerful +of all the Orkney earls. When he was but five winters old Thorfinn was +sent to his grandfather Malcolm to be brought up at the Scottish Court, +and on his father’s death he was made Earl of Caithness and Sutherland. + +Einar and Brusi, sons of Sigurd by his first wife, then ruled over the +islands. Einar was ambitious and warlike, Brusi mild and peaceful. When +they shared the earldom between them, Brusi was content with a third +part, while Einar took over the remainder; and so matters stood for a +time. + +When Thorfinn grew up to manhood, he was not content with his large +domains in Scotland. He put forward a claim to one-third of the Orkneys +as his rightful share. Einar would have disputed the claim; but Brusi +resigned his share to Thorfinn, and an agreement was made that when Einar +died his share should be handed over to Brusi. So peace was kept for the +time. But when Einar died, Thorfinn seized half of the whole earldom. + +Brusi was unable to resist the great power of Thorfinn, so he resolved to +go east to Norway, and ask Olaf the king to do justice between him and +his brother. Thorfinn also went to Norway to plead his own cause. King +Olaf, unwilling to increase the power of a subject already too powerful, +decided in favour of Brusi. But when the two earls returned to the +islands, Brusi found the task of ruling his dominions and defending them +against the Vikings too heavy for him, and Thorfinn no doubt took care +that there should always be plenty of trouble for him to face. + +At last Brusi was glad to hand over two-thirds of the earldom to +Thorfinn, on condition of his undertaking to defend the islands; and this +arrangement lasted till Brusi’s death. + +In the meantime, Rognvald, Brusi’s son, had been growing up at the Court +of Olaf, King of Norway, and he was a close friend of Magnus, Olaf’s +son, who afterwards became king. When Rognvald heard that Brusi, his +father, was dead, and that Earl Thorfinn had seized the whole earldom, +he prepared to fare westward and claim his share of the land. Thorfinn +was now the most powerful ruler in all the western lands. He had defeated +the Scots in a great sea-fight off Deerness; he had subdued the Western +Isles; he had conquered great realms in Scotland; and he had made himself +master of the half of Ireland. + +At the time when Rognvald came to the Orkneys, however, Thorfinn had wars +on his hands in the Western Isles and in Ireland, and he was glad to +offer Rognvald two-thirds of the islands in return for his friendship +and his help. So for a time the two earls lived in friendship with each +other. + +Then evil men made mischief between them, and Thorfinn demanded back the +third of the land which had belonged to Earl Einar. Rognvald refused, +and sailed away to Norway to ask help from King Magnus. With a fleet +of Norwegian ships he came back to Orkney, and was met in the Pentland +Firth by the ships of Earl Thorfinn. Earl Rognvald’s ships were fewer +in number, but their larger size at first gave him the advantage. Earl +Thorfinn was hard pressed; but at last he persuaded his brother-in-law, +Kalf Arnesson, whose ships were lying by watching the fight, to come to +his aid and row against Rognvald. Then the tide of battle turned against +Earl Rognvald, and only by the darkness of the night was he enabled to +escape, and once more to find his way to Norway. + +Again King Magnus came to his help; but this time Earl Rognvald tried +to take Thorfinn by surprise, so he sailed away to Orkney in the dead +of winter with only one ship. Before there was any news of his coming, +he surrounded the house where Earl Thorfinn was feasting, and set it on +fire. Only the women and children were allowed to go free; but while the +warriors were in confusion, seeking some way of escape, the great earl +broke a hole through the side of the house where the smoke was thickest, +and, carrying his wife, Ingibiorg, in his arms, he escaped in the +darkness to the seashore, took a boat, and rowed across to Caithness. + +Now it seemed that Rognvald’s success was complete, for he thought +that Earl Thorfinn was surely dead. When Christmas-time was at hand, he +prepared to hold a great feast at Kirkwall, and with some of his men +he took a ship to Papa Stronsay to bring over a cargo of malt for the +brewing. They stayed there for the night, and sat long over the fire +telling of all their adventures. Meanwhile, however, Earl Thorfinn had +come back from Caithness to seek revenge. In the darkness he and his men +surrounded the house where Earl Rognvald sat, and set it on fire. All +except the earl’s men were allowed to come out, being drawn over the pile +of wood which Thorfinn’s men had placed before the door. + +While this was being done, a man suddenly leaped over the pile, and over +the armed men beside it, and disappeared in the darkness. + +“That must be Earl Rognvald,” cried Thorfinn, “for no one else could +do such a feat.” Then they all ran to search for Earl Rognvald in the +darkness. The barking of his dog betrayed the earl’s hiding-place to his +enemies, and soon he was found and slain among the rocks upon the shore. + +Next morning Thorfinn and his men took Earl Rognvald’s ship and sailed +to Kirkwall. And when Rognvald’s men who were in the town came, unarmed, +expecting to meet the earl, they were set upon by Earl Thorfinn’s men, +and thirty of them were slain. These men were of the bodyguard of King +Magnus, and only one of them was allowed to go back to Norway to tell the +tidings to the king. + +Then for eighteen years Thorfinn ruled the earldom, till the day of his +death. He was by far the greatest of the Orkney earls. He built Christ’s +Kirk in Birsay, and in his time the Bishopric of Orkney was founded. +During his later years the islands enjoyed peace, and many wise laws were +made; and when the great earl died there was much sorrow in the Orkneys. +So the poet sings in his honour:— + + “Swarthy shall become the bright sun, + In the dark sea shall the earth sink, + Finished shall be Austri’s labour, + And the wild sea hide the mountains, + Ere there be in these fair islands + Born a chief to rule the people— + May our God both keep and help them— + Greater than the lost Earl Thorfinn.” + +Paul and Erlend, the two sons of Thorfinn, succeeded to the earldom, +and for some time they ruled in harmony together. They fought for King +Harald Hardradi against Harold, Godwin’s son, at the battle of Stamford +Bridge in Yorkshire in 1066, but were allowed to return in peace to +their earldom. Trouble arose between the brothers when their sons grew +to manhood, and Magnus Barefoot, King of Norway, made a descent upon the +islands. He carried the two brothers into exile, appointing his own son +Sigurd as “King” of Orkney, which post he held until his father’s death +made him King of Norway. Hakon, Paul’s son, and Magnus, Erlend’s son, +afterwards called St. Magnus, then became joint earls. + +Their joint rule had the usual result, quarrels and misunderstandings, +and was brought to an end by the murder of Earl Magnus in Egilsay in +1115. The story is told in the Saga of Earl Magnus, from which the next +chapter is taken. + + + + +THE SLAYING OF EARL MAGNUS. + + +“St. Magnus, the isle earl, was the most peerless of men, tall of +growth, manly, and lively of look, virtuous in his ways, fortunate in +fight, a sage in wit, ready-tongued and lordly-minded, lavish of money +and high-spirited, quick of counsel, and more beloved of his friends +than any man. Blithe and of kind speech to wise and good men, but hard +and unsparing against robbers and sea-rovers, he let many men be slain +who harried the freemen and landfolk. He made murderers and thieves be +taken, and visited as well on the powerful as on the weak robberies and +thieveries and all ill deeds. He was no favourer of his friends in his +judgments, for he valued more godly justice than the distinctions of +rank. He was open-handed to chiefs and powerful men, but still he ever +showed most care for poor men.... + +“Those kinsmen, Magnus and Hakon, held the wardship of the land for some +while, so that they were well agreed.... But when those kinsmen had +ruled the land some time, then again happened, what often and always can +happen, that many ill-willing men set about spoiling their kinship. Then +unlucky men gathered more about Hakon, for that he was very envious of +the friendships and lordliness of his kinsman Magnus. + +“Two men are they who are named, who were with Earl Hakon, and who were +the worst of all the tale-bearers between those kinsmen, Sigurd and +Sighvat Sock. This slander came so far with the gossip of wicked men, +that those kinsmen again gathered forces together, and each earl faced +against the other with a great company. Then both of them held on to +Hrossey [the Mainland], where the place of meeting of those Orkneyingers +was. But when they came there, then each drew up his men in array, +and they made them ready to battle. There were then the earls and all +the great men, and there, too, were many friends of both who did all +they could to set them at one again. Many then came between them with +manliness and good-will. This meeting was in Lent, a little before Palm +Sunday. But because many men of their well-wishers took a share in +clearing up these difficulties between them, but would stand by neither +to do harm to the other, then they bound their agreement with oaths and +handsels. And when some time had gone by after that, then Earl Hakon, +with falsehood and fair words, settled with the blessed Earl Magnus to +meet him on a certain day, so that their kinship and steadfast new-made +peace should not be turned aside or set at naught. This meeting for a +steadfast peace and a thorough atonement between them was to be in Easter +week that spring on Egil’s Isle [Egilsay]. This pleased Earl Magnus well, +being, as he was, a thoroughly whole-hearted man, far from all doubt, +guile, or greed; and each of them was to have two ships, and each just as +many men: this both swore, to hold and keep those terms of peace which +the wisest men made up their minds to declare between them. + +“But when Eastertide was gone by, each made him ready for this +meeting. Earl Magnus summoned to him all those men whom he knew to be +kindest-hearted and likeliest to do a good turn to both those kinsmen. +He had two long-ships and just as many men as was said. And when he was +ready he held on his course to Egil’s Isle. And as they were rowing in +calm over the smooth sea, there rose a billow against the ship which the +earl steered, and fell on the ship just where the earl sat. The earl’s +men wondered much at this token, that the billow fell on them in a calm +where no man had ever known it to fall before, and where the water under +was deep. Then the earl said, ‘It is not strange that ye wonder at this; +but my thought is, that this is a foreboding of my life’s end, may be +that may happen which was before spoken about Earl Hakon. We should so +make up our minds about our undertaking, that I guess my kinsman Hakon +must not mean to deal fairly by us at this meeting.’ The earl’s men were +afraid at these words, when he said he had so short hope as to his life’s +end, and bade him take heed for his life, and not fare further trusting +in Earl Hakon. Earl Magnus answers, ‘We shall fare on still, and may all +God’s will be done as to our voyage.’ + +“Now it must be told about Earl Hakon, that he summoned to him a great +company, and had many war-ships, and all manned and trimmed as though +they were to run out to battle. And when the force came together, the +earl makes it clear to the men that he meant at that meeting so to settle +matters between himself and Earl Magnus that they should not both of them +be over the Orkneys. Many of his men showed themselves well pleased at +this purpose, and added many fearful words; and they, Sigurd and Sighvat +Sock, were among the worst in their utterance. Then men began to row +hard, and they fared furiously. Havard, Gunni’s son, was on board the +earl’s ship, a friend and counsellor of the earl’s, and a fast friend +to both alike. Hakon had hidden from him this bad counsel, which Havard +would surely not join in. And when he knew the earl was so steadfast +in this bad counsel, then he jumped from the earl’s ship and took to +swimming, and swam to an isle where no man dwelt. + +“Earl Magnus came first to Egil’s Isle with his company, and when they +saw Hakon coming they saw that he had eight war-ships; he thought he knew +then that treachery must be meant. Earl Magnus then betook himself up on +the isle with his men, and went to the church to pray, and was there that +night; but his men offered to defend him. The earl answers, ‘I will not +lay your life in risk for me, and if peace is not to be made between us +two kinsmen, then be it as God wills.’ Then his men thought that what he +had said when the billow fell on them was coming true. Now for that he +felt sure as to the hours of his life beforehand, whether it was rather +from his shrewdness or of godly foreshowing, then he would not fly nor +fare far from the meeting of his foes. He prayed earnestly, and let a +mass be sung to him. + +“Hakon and his men jumped up in the morning, and ran first to the church +and ransacked it, and did not find the earl. He had gone another way on +the isle with two men into a certain hiding-place. And when the saint +Earl Magnus saw that they sought for him, then he calls out to them and +says where he was; he bade them look nowhere else for him. And when Hakon +saw him, they ran thither with shouts and crash of arms. Earl Magnus was +then at his prayers when they came to him, and when he had ended his +prayers then he signed himself [with the cross], and said to Earl Hakon, +with steadfast heart, ‘Thou didst not well, kinsman, when thou wentest +back on thy oaths, and it is much to be hoped that thou doest this more +from others’ badness than thine own. Now will I offer thee three choices, +that thou do one of these rather than break thine oaths and let me be +slain guiltless.’ + +“Hakon’s men asked what offer he made. ‘That is the first, that I will +go south to Rome, or out as far as Jerusalem, and visit holy places, and +have two ships with me out of the land with what we need to have, and so +make atonement for both of our souls. This I will swear, never to come +back to the Orkneys.’ To this they said ‘Nay’ at once. Then Earl Magnus +spoke: ‘Now seeing that my life is in your power, and that I have in many +things made myself an outlaw before Almighty God, then send thou me up +into Scotland to some of both our friends, and let me be there kept in +ward, and two men with me as a pastime. Take thou care then that I may +never be able to get out of that wardship.’ To this they said ‘Nay’ at +once. Magnus spoke: ‘One choice is still behind which I will offer thee, +and God knows that I look more to your soul than to my life; but still +it better beseems thee than to take my life away. Let me be maimed in +my limbs as thou pleasest, or pluck out my eyes, and set me in a dark +dungeon.’ Then Earl Hakon spoke: ‘This settlement I am ready to take, +nor do I ask anything further.’ Then the chiefs sprang up and said to +Earl Hakon, ‘We will slay now either of you twain, and ye two shall not +both from this day forth rule the lands.’ Then answers Earl Hakon: ‘Slay +ye him rather, for I will rather rule the realm and lands than die so +suddenly.’ So says Holdbodi, a truthful freeman from the Southern Isles, +of the parley they had. He was then with Magnus, and another man with +him, when they took him captive. + +“So glad was the worthy Earl Magnus as though he were bidden to a feast; +he neither spoke with hate nor words of wrath. And after this talk he +fell to prayer, and hid his face in the palms of his hands, and shed +out many tears before God’s eyesight. When Earl Magnus, the saint, was +done to death, Hakon bade Ofeig his banner-bearer to slay the earl, but +he said ‘Nay’ with the greatest wrath. Then he forced Lifolf his cook +to kill Earl Magnus, but he began to weep aloud. ‘Thou shalt not weep +for this,’ said the earl, ‘for that there is fame in doing such deeds. +Be steadfast in thine heart, for thou shalt have my clothes, as is the +wont and law of men of old, and thou shalt not be afraid, for thou doest +this against thy will, and he who forces thee misdoes more than thou.’ +But when the earl had said this he threw off his kirtle and gave it to +Lifolf. After that he begged leave to say his prayers, and that was +granted him. + +[Illustration: _Church of St. Magnus, Egilsay._ + +_(From a painting by T. Marjoribanks Hay, R.S.W.)_] + +“He fell to earth, and gave himself over to God, and brought himself as +an offering to Him. He not only prayed for himself or his friends, but +rather there and then for his foes and banemen, and forgave them with +all his heart what they had misdone towards him, and confessed his own +misdeeds to God, and prayed that they might be washed off him by the +outshedding of his blood, and commended his soul into God’s hand, and +prayed that God’s angels would come to meet his soul and bear it into +the rest of Paradise. When the friend of God was led out to slaughter he +spoke to Lifolf: ‘Stand thou before me, and hew me on my head a great +wound, for it beseems not to chop off chiefs’ heads like thieves’. +Strengthen thyself, wretched man, for I have prayed to God that he may +have mercy upon thee.’ After that he signed himself [with the cross], and +bowed himself to the stroke. And his spirit passed to heaven. + +“That spot was before mossy and stony. But a little after, the worthiness +of Earl Magnus before God was so bright that there sprung up a green +sward where he was slain, and God showed that, that he was slain for +righteousness’ sake, and inherited the fairness and greenness of +Paradise, which is called the earth of living men.... There had then +passed since the birth of Christ one thousand and ninety and one winters.” + + _From the “Orkneyinga Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L. + (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_ + + + + +THE FOUNDING OF ST. MAGNUS CATHEDRAL. + + +After the death of Hakon, the slayer of Earl Magnus, the earldom was +divided between his two sons, Harald the Smooth-talker, and Paul the +Speechless. There were many bitter quarrels between the brothers, until +the death of the former left Paul as sole ruler. That happened in this +wise. + +When they had been reconciled after one of their quarrels, Harald invited +Paul to a feast in his house at Orphir. On the morning before the feast, +Earl Harald found his mother and his aunt working at a very beautiful +shirt, which, they said, was a present for his brother Paul. + +“Why should such a splendid garment be given to Paul and not to me?” +asked the earl, taking it up in his hand to look at it. Then before the +women could prevent him, he threw off the light cloak he was wearing and +put on the gorgeous shirt. No sooner had it touched his skin than he was +seized with violent pains, and with a sickness of which he died a few +days later. The shirt had been poisoned in order to cause Earl Paul’s +death, but it was Earl Harald who fell a victim to his mother’s cunning +and treacherous design. + +Earl Paul did not long reign in peace. A new claimant soon appeared for +part of the lands. This was Kali, the son of Kol and of Gunhild, the +sister of the murdered St. Magnus, who had been brought up at the court +of King Harald of Norway. He was a man of noble appearance, bold and +skilful in war, and a born leader of men. He was in addition a noted +skald or poet, and many of the songs which he made have come down to us +in the Sagas. + +He now changed his name to Rognvald, which had been a popular name in the +isles since the days of Rognvald, Brusi’s son, and he is known in history +as Rognvald Kali, or Rognvald the Second. + +Having the promise of help from Harald, the Norwegian king, Rognvald +sent a message to Earl Paul, demanding that share of the islands which +Earl Magnus had held. Earl Paul, who was a good ruler, and had many +friends among the Orkneymen, replied that he would guard his inheritance +while God gave him life. Rognvald then gathered ships and set sail for +Shetland, but his fleet was destroyed in Yell Sound by the ships of Earl +Paul, and he had to escape to Norway in a merchant vessel. + +Earl Paul thereupon placed beacons on some of the highest hills in the +islands, in order that he might have warning of any attempt by Rognvald +to make a descent by way of Shetland, and the most important of these +beacons was on the Fair Isle. + +When Rognvald, angry and disappointed, arrived in Norway, he took counsel +with his father Kol and with an old man named Uni, who was reckoned a +very wise man; and as he had many friends among the men of Shetland, +it was decided to make a new attempt in the spring. By the aid of King +Harald and of his friends a new fleet was then got ready. + +When the ships were assembled, Rognvald stood up on the deck of his +war-dragon to address his men. “Earl Paul and the Orkneyingers,” he said, +“have taken my inheritance, and refuse to give it up. My grandfather, the +holy Earl Magnus, was treacherously slain by Paul’s father Hakon, and +instead of giving compensation for the wicked deed, Earl Paul would wrong +me still more in the matter of my inheritance. However, if it be the will +of God, I intend to fare to the Orkneys, and there win what is mine by +right, or die with honour.” + +All the men cheered this speech, and when they were silent Kol rose to +speak. He advised his son not to trust in his own strength for success. +“I advise thee, Rognvald,” he said, “to make a vow that if St. Magnus +secures to thee thine inheritance, thou wilt build and dedicate to him in +Kirkwall a minster of such size and splendour that it shall be the wonder +and the glory of all the North.” + +Rognvald thought this the best of advice. Rising once more, he vowed +to build in Kirkwall a splendid cathedral in honour of St. Magnus, and +to remove thither with all reverence the remains of the sainted earl. +No sooner had this solemn vow been taken than the wind became fair for +sailing. The fleet at once put to sea, and reached Shetland in a few days. + +Now Rognvald’s real difficulties began. How could he take Earl Paul by +surprise, as he wished to do, with the beacon on the Fair Isle ready to +give the alarm as soon as his ships came in sight? The wisdom of Kol and +of Uni came to his aid. The former had a plan to cause the beacon to be +lit on a false alarm, and the latter to prevent its being lit when it was +needed. + +Kol set sail from Shetland towards evening with a fleet of small boats. +When they came in sight of the Fair Isle, they hoisted their sails half +way up the masts, and with the oars the men kept back the boats so as +to make them sail very slowly. At the same time they gradually hoisted +their sails higher and higher, so that to those in charge of the beacon +it might seem that a fleet was rapidly approaching When it was dark the +boats returned to the land. + +The trick was successful. The Fair Isle beacon flared up to the sky, +those on North Ronaldsay and on Westray followed, and soon every hilltop +in the islands showed its warning light. The Orkneymen took their weapons +and hurried to Kirkwall, where Earl Paul had appointed them to gather in +such a case, and all was ready to meet the enemy; but no enemy appeared. +Those who had charge of the beacons came with the news of a fleet +approaching; and after long waiting other men were sent to look for its +coming, but they looked in vain. Quarrels soon began to arise as to who +was to blame for the false alarm, for the men were angry at having been +taken from their farm work to no purpose; so the earl had to make peace +among them, and set other men to build up the beacons again and to watch +them. + +Now came Uni’s turn. He sailed to the Fair Isle with three companions, +and pretended to be an enemy of Rognvald, saying many hard things +against him and his men. His three companions went out every day to +fish, but Uni himself stayed on shore. He gradually made friends with +the people of the isle, and especially with those who had charge of the +beacon. At last he offered to watch it for them, saying that he had +nothing else to do, and his offer was accepted. Uni then poured water on +the beacon, and kept it in such a state of dampness that it should be +impossible to light it when it was needed. + +Thus by the time that Rognvald was to set out from Shetland, Uni had +everything prepared. As soon as his ships were seen from the Fair Isle, +the men who had charge of the beacon tried to light it, but in vain. +There was no time to warn Earl Paul, and Rognvald landed in Westray +without any alarm being given. The bishop now interfered between the +rivals, and a truce was agreed to in order that terms of peace might be +arranged. + +And now things took a strange and unexpected turn, so that Rognvald won +the islands without any fighting. While Earl Paul was on a visit to his +friend Sigurd of Westness, in Rousay, he went out before breakfast one +morning and mysteriously disappeared. Sigurd sought him everywhere in +vain. At last they discovered that he had been seized and carried off +to Scotland by Sweyn Asleifson, and he never returned. Earl Paul’s men +gradually came over to Earl Rognvald, and he became ruler over the whole +earldom. + +Earl Rognvald now set about fulfilling his vow and raising a great +cathedral in Kirkwall in honour of St. Magnus. In 1137 the work was begun +under the superintendence of Kol, but many a long year was to pass ere +it should be finished. As the work went on it soon became very costly +to the earl. In his difficulty he once more went to his father Kol for +advice. Kol said that Rognvald should declare himself the heir of all +landholders who died, and that their sons should have to redeem their +lands from him. A Thing was called, and this law was passed; but the +freemen also had the choice given them of buying their lands outright, +so that the earl might not inherit them in the future. Most of the +landholders took that plan, and now there was once more plenty of money +for the cathedral. + +When the work was so far advanced that part of the cathedral could be +roofed in, the remains of St. Magnus, which had already been removed from +Christ Church in Birsay, were laid to rest in the new minster. Many great +men have been laid in the same place since then. Earl Rognvald himself +was buried there, and there too the remains of King Hakon rested for a +time before their removal to Bergen. + +While on a visit to Norway, Earl Rognvald made the acquaintance of a +Crusader who had returned from the Holy Land, and he determined that he +also would become a “Jorsalafarer,” or pilgrim to Jerusalem. The story of +this strange voyage, in company with the Bishop of Orkney and many of his +countrymen—half Vikings, half Crusaders—is well told in the “Saga of Earl +Rognvald,” and in our next chapter we give part of the narrative. + +[Illustration: _On the “Viking Path.”_] + + + + +THE JORSALAFARERS. + + +“Earl Rongvald busked him that summer to leave the Orkneys, and he was +rather late boun; for they had a long while to wait for Eindrid, as his +ship did not come from Norway which he had let be made there the winter +before. But when they were boun, they held on their course away from the +Orkneys in fifteen big ships. + +“They sailed away from the Orkneys and south to Scotland, and so on to +England, and as they sailed by Northumberland, off Humbermouth, Armod +sang a song,— + + ‘The sea was high off Humbermouth + When our ships were beating out, + Bends the mast and sinks the land + ’Neath our lee off Vesla-sand; + Wave with veil of foam that rises + Drives not in the eyes of him + Who now sits at home; the stripling + From the meeting rideth dry.’ + +“They sailed thence south round England and to France. Nothing is said of +their voyage before that they came to that seaburg which is named Nerbon +There these tidings had happened, that the earl who before had ruled +the town was dead. His name was Germanus; he left behind him a daughter +young and fair, whose name was Ermingerd. She kept watch and ward over +her father’s inheritance, with the counsel of the most noble men of her +kinsfolk. They gave that counsel to the queen that she should bid the +earl to a worthy feast, and said that by that she would be famous if she +welcomed heartily such men of rank who had come so far to see her, and +who would bear her fame still further. The queen bade them see to that. +And when this counsel had been agreed on by them, men were sent to the +earl, and he was told that the queen bade him to a feast with as many of +his men as he chose to bring with him. The earl took this bidding with +thanks; he chose out all his best men for this journey with him. And when +they came to the feast, there was the best cheer, and nothing was spared +which could do the earl more honour than he had ever met before. + +“One day it happened as the earl sat at the feast that the queen came +into the hall and many women with her; she held a beaker of gold in her +hand. She was dressed in the best clothes, had her hair loose as maidens +wont to have, and had put a golden band round her brow. She poured the +wine into the earl’s cup, but her maidens danced before them. The earl +took her hand and the beaker too and set her on his knee, and they talked +much that day. + +“The earl stayed there very long in the best of cheer. The townsmen +pressed the earl to settle down there, and spoke out loudly about how +they would give him the lady to wife. The earl said he would fare on +that voyage which he had purposed, but said that he would come thither +as he fared back, and then they could carry out their plan or not as +they pleased. After that the earl busked him away thence with his fellow +voyagers. And as they sailed west of Thrasness they had a good wind; then +they sat and drank and were very merry. + +“They fared till they came to Galicialand in the winter before Yule, and +meant to sit there Yule over. They dealt with the landsmen, and begged +them to set them a market to buy food; for the land was barren and bad +for food, and the landsmen thought it hard to feed that host of men. +Now these tidings had happened there, that in that land sat a chief who +was a stranger, in a castle, and he had laid on the landsmen very heavy +burdens. He harried them on the spot if they did not agree at once to all +that he asked, and he offered them the greatest tyranny and oppression. +And when the earl spoke to the landsmen about bringing him food to +buy, they made him that offer, that they would set them up a market +thenceforth on till Lent, but they must rid them in some way or other of +the men in the castle; but Earl Rognvald was to bear the brunt in return +for the right of having all the goods that were gotten from them. + +“The earl laid this bare before his men, and sought counsel from them as +to which choice he should take; but most of them were eager to fall on +the castlemen, and thought it bid fair for spoil. And so Earl Rognvald +and his host went into that agreement with the landsmen. But when it drew +near to Yule, Earl Rognvald called his men to a talk, and said,— + +“‘Now have we sat here awhile, and yet we have had nothing to do with +the castlemen, but the landsmen are getting rather slack in their +dealings with us. Methinks they think that what we promised them will +have no fulfilment; but still that is not manly not to turn our hands to +what we have promised. Now, kinsman Erling, will I take counsel from you +in what way we shall win the castle, for I know that ye are here some of +you the greatest men for good counsel; but still I will beg all those men +who are here that each will throw in what he thinks is likeliest to be +worth trying.’ + +“Erling answered the earl’s speech: ‘I will not be silent at your +bidding. But I am not a man for counsel, and it would be better rather +to call on those men for that who have seen more, and are more wont to +such exploits, as is Eindrid the Young. But here it will be as the saying +goes, “You must shoot at a bird before you get him.” And so we will try +to give some counsel, whatever comes of it. We shall to-day, if it seems +to you not bad counsel or to the other shipmasters, go all of us to the +wood, and bear each of us three shoulder-bundles of fagots on our backs +under the castle; for it seems to me as though the lime will not be +trusty if a great fire is brought to it. We shall let this go on for the +three next days and see what turn things take.’ + +“They did as Erling bade; and when that toil was over, it was come right +on to Yule. The bishop would not let them make their onslaught while the +Yule high feast stood over them. + +“That chief’s name was Godfrey who dwelt in the castle; he was a wise +man, and somewhat stricken in years. He was a good clerk, and had +fared far and wide, and knew many tongues. He was a grasping man and +a very unfair man. He called together his men when he saw Rognvald’s +undertakings, and said to them,— + +“‘This scheme seems to me clever and harmful to us which the Northmen +have taken in hand. It will befall us thus if fire is borne against us, +that the stone wall round the castle will be untrustworthy. But the +Northmen are strong and brave; we shall have to look for a sharp fight +from them if they get a chance. I will now take counsel with you what +shall be done in this strait which has befallen us.’ But his men all bade +him see to that for them. Then he began to speak, and said, ‘My first +counsel is that ye shall bind a cord round me and let me slide down from +the castle wall to-night. I shall have on bad clothes, and fare into the +camp of the Northmen, and know what I can find out.’ + +“This counsel was taken as he had laid it down. And when Godfrey came to +Earl Rognvald he said he was an old beggar carle, and spoke in Spanish; +they understood that tongue best. He fared about among all the booths and +begged for food. He found out that there was great envy and splitting +into parties amongst the Northmen. Eindrid was the head of one side, +but the earl of the other. Godfrey came to Eindrid and got to talk with +him, and brought that before him that the chief who held the castle had +sent him thither. ‘He will have fellowship with thee, and he hopes that +thou wilt give him peace if the castle be won. He would rather that thou +shouldst have his treasures, if thou wilt do so much in return for them, +than those who would rather see him a dead man.’ Of such things they +talked and much besides. But the earl was kept in the dark; all this went +on by stealth at first. And when Godfrey had stayed a while with the +earl’s men, then he turned back to his men. But this was why they did +not flit what they owned out of the castle, because they did not know +whether the storm would take place at all; besides they could not trust +the landfolk. + +“It was the tenth day of Yule that Earl Rognvald rose up. The weather +was good. Then he bade his men put on their arms, and let the host be +called up to the castle with the trumpet. Then they drew the wood towards +it, and piled a bale round about the wall. The earl drew up his men for +the onslaught where each of them should go. The earl goes against it +from the south with the Orkneyingers, Erling and Aslag from the west, +John and Gudorm from the east, Eindrid the Young from the north with his +followers. And when they were boun for the storm they cast fire into the +bale. + +“Now they began to press on fast both with fire and weapons. Then they +shot hard into the work for they could not reach them by any other +attack. The castlemen stood loosely here and there on the wall, for they +had to guard themselves against the shots. They poured out too burning +pitch and brimstone, and the earl’s men took little harm by that. Now it +turned out as Erling had guessed, that the castle wall crumbled before +the fire when the lime would not stand it, and there were great breaches +in it. + +“Sigmund Angle was the name of a man in the earl’s bodyguard; he was +Sweyn Asliefson’s step-son. He pressed on faster than any man to the +castle, and ever went on before the earl; he was then scarcely grown up. +And when the storm had lasted awhile, then all men fled from the castle +wall. The wind was on from the south, and the reek of the smoke lay +towards Eindrid and his men. And when the fire began to spread very fast, +then the earl made them bring water and cool the rubble that was burned. +And then there was a lull in the assault. + +“After that the earl made ready to storm, and Sigmund Angle with him. +There was then but a little struggle, and they got into the castle. There +many men were slain, but those who would take life gave themselves up +to the earl’s power. There they took much goods, but they did not find +the chief, and scarcely any precious things. Then there was forthwith +much talk how Godfrey could have got away; and then at once they had the +greatest doubt of Eindrid the Young, that he must have passed him away +somehow, and that he (Godfrey) must have gone away under the smoke to the +wood. + +“After that Earl Rognvald and his host stayed there a short time in +Galicialand, and held on west off Spain. They harried wide in that part +of Spain which belonged to the heathen, and got there much goods. After +that they sailed west off Spain, and got there a great storm, and lay +three days at anchor, so that they shipped very much water, and it lay +near that they had lost their ships. After that they hoisted their sails +and beat out to Njorfa Sound [the Strait of Gibraltar] with a very cross +wind. They sailed through Njorfa Sound, and then the weather began to +get better. And then, as they bore out of the sound, Eindrid the Young +parted company from the earl with six ships. He sailed over the sea to +Marseilles, but Rognvald and his ships lay behind at the sound; and men +talked much about it, how Eindrid had now himself given proof whether or +not he had helped Godfrey away. + +“Nothing is told of the voyage of the earl and his men before they came +south off Sarkland, and lay in the neighbourhood of Sardinia, and knew +not what land they were near. The weather had turned out in this wise, +that a great calm set in and mists and smooth seas—though the nights +were light—and they saw scarcely at all from their ships, and so they +made little way. One morning it happened that the mist lifted. Men stood +up and looked about them. Then the earl asked if men saw anything new. +They said they saw nought but two islets, little and steep, and when +they looked for the islets the second time, then one of the islets was +gone. They told this to the earl. He began to say, ‘That can have been no +islets. That must be ships which men have out here in this part of the +world, which they call dromonds; those are ships big as holms to look on. +But there, where the other dromond lay, a breeze must have come down on +the sea, and they must have sailed away; but these must be wayfaring men, +either chapmen or faring in some other way on their business.’ + +“After that the earl lets them call to him the bishop and all the +shipmasters; then he began to say: ‘I call you together for this, lord +bishop and Erling, my kinsman: see ye any scheme or chance of ours that +we may win victory in some way over those who are on the dromond.’ The +bishop answers: ‘Hard, I guess, will it be for you to run your long-ships +under the dromond, for ye will have no better way of boarding than by +grappling the bulwarks with a broad-axe; but they will have brimstone and +boiling pitch to throw under your feet and over your heads. Ye may see, +earl, so wise as you are, that it is the greatest rashness to lay one’s +self and one’s men in such risk.’ + +“Then Erling began to speak: ‘Lord bishop,’ he says, ‘likely it is that +ye are best able to see this, that there will be little hope of victory +in rowing against them. But somehow it seems to me that though we try to +run under the dromond, so methinks it will be that the greatest weight +of weapons will fall beyond our ships, if we hug her close, broadside to +broadside. But if it be not so, then we can put off from them quickly, +for they will not chase us in the dromond.’ + +“The earl began to say: ‘That is spoken like a man and quite to my mind. +I will now make that clear to the shipmasters and all the crews, that +each man shall busk him in his room, and arm himself as he best can. +After that we will row up to them. But if they are Christian chapmen, +then it will be in our power to make peace with them; but if they are +heathen, as I feel sure they are, then Almighty God will yield us that +mercy that we shall win the victory over them. But of the war spoil which +we get there, we shall give the fiftieth penny to poor men.’ After that, +men got out their arms and heightened the bulwarks of their ships, and +made themselves ready according to the means which they had at hand. The +earl settles where each of his ships should run in. Then they made an +onslaught on her by rowing, and pulled up to her as briskly as they could. + +“But when those who were aboard the dromond saw that ships were rowing +up to them, they took silken stuffs and costly goods and hung them out +on the bulwarks, and then made great shoutings and hailings; and it +seemed to the earl’s men as though they dared the Northmen to come on +against them. Earl Rognvald laid his ship aft alongside the dromond on +the starboard, but Erling, too, aft on the larboard. John and Aslak, they +laid their ships forward each on his own board, but the others amidships +on both boards; and all the ships hugged her close, broadside to +broadside. And when they came under the dromond, her sides were so high +out of the water that they could not reach up with their weapons. But the +foe poured down blazing brimstone and flaming pitch over them. And it was +as Erling guessed it would be, that the greatest weight of weapons fell +out beyond the ships, and they had no need to shield themselves on that +side which was next to the dromond, but those who were on the other side +held their shields over their heads and sheltered themselves in that way. + +“And when they made no way with their onslaught, the bishop shoved his +ship off and two others, and they picked out and sent thither their +bowmen, and they lay within shot, and shot thence at the dromond, and +then that onslaught was the hardest that was made. Then those on board +the dromond got under cover, but thought little about what those were +doing who had laid their ships under the dromond. Earl Rognvald called +out then to his men, that they should take their axes and hew asunder the +broadside of the dromond in the parts where she was least iron-bound. But +when the men in the other ships saw what the earl’s men were about, they +also took the like counsel. + +“Now, where Erling and his men had laid their ship a great anchor hung +on the dromond, and the fluke was hung by the crook over the bulwark, +but the stock pointed down to Erling’s ship. Audun the Red was the name +of Erling’s bowman; he was lifted up on the anchor-stock. But after that +he hauled up to him more men, so that they stood as thick as ever they +could on the stock, and thence hewed at the sides as they best could, and +that hewing was by far the highest up. And when they had hewn such large +doors that they could go into the dromond, they made ready to board, and +the earl and his men got into the lower hold, but Erling and his men into +the upper. And when both their bands had come up on the ship there was a +fight both great and hard. On board the dromond were Saracens, what we +call Mahomet’s unbelievers. There were many blackamoors, and they made +the hardest struggle. Erling got there a great wound on his neck near his +shoulders as he sprang up into the dromond. That healed so ill that he +bore his head on one side ever after. That was why he was called Wryneck. + +“And when they met Earl Rognvald and Erling, the Saracens gave way before +them to the fore-part of the ship, but the earl’s men then boarded her +one after another. Then they were more numerous, and they pressed the +enemy hard. They saw that on board the dromond was one man who was both +taller and fairer than the others; the Northmen held it to be the truth +that that man must be their chief. Earl Rognvald said that they should +not turn their weapons against him, if they could take him in any other +way. Then they hemmed him in and bore him down with their shields, and +so he was taken and afterwards carried to the bishop’s ship, and few men +with him. They slew there much folk, and got much goods and many costly +things. When they had ended the greatest part of their toil, they sat +down and rested themselves. + +“Men spoke of these tidings which had happened there. Then each spoke of +what he thought he had seen; and men talked about who had been the first +to board the dromond, and could not agree about it. Then some said that +it was foolish that they should not all have one story about these great +things; and the end of it was that they agreed that Earl Rognvald should +settle the dispute, and afterwards they should all back what he said. + +“When they had stripped the dromond they put fire into her and burnt her. +And when that tall man whom they had made captive saw that, he was much +stirred, and changed colour, and could not hold himself still. But though +they tried to make him speak, he never said a word and made no manner +of sign, nor did he pay any heed to them whether they promised him good +or ill. But when the dromond began to blaze, they saw as though blazing +molten ore ran down into the sea. That moved the captive man much. They +were quite sure then that they had looked for goods carelessly, and now +the metal had melted in the heat of the fire, whether it had been gold or +silver. + +“Earl Rognvald and his men sailed thence south under Sarkland, and lay +under a seaburg, and made a seven nights’ truce with the townsmen, and +had dealings with them, and sold them the men whom they had taken. No +man would buy the tall man. And after that the earl gave him leave to go +away and four men with him. He came down the next morning with a train +of men and told them that he was a prince of Sarkland, and had sailed +thence with the dromond and all the goods that were aboard her. He said, +too, he thought that worst of all that they burnt the dromond, and made +such waste of that great wealth that it was of no use to any one. ‘But +now I have great power over your affairs. Now you shall have the greatest +good from me for having spared my life and treated me with such honour +as ye could; but I would be very willing that we saw each other never +again. And so now live safe and sound and well.’ After that he rode up +the country, but Earl Rognvald sailed thence south to Crete, and they lay +there in very foul weather. + +“The earl and his men lay under Crete till they got a fair wind for +Jewry-land, and came to Acreburg early on a Friday morning, and landed +then with such great pomp and state as was seldom seen there. The earl +and his men stayed in Acreburg a while. There sickness came into their +ranks, and many famous men breathed their last. There Thorbjorn the +Swarthy, a liegeman, breathed his last. + +“Earl Rognvald and his men then fared from Acreburg, and sought all the +holiest places in the land of Jewry. They all fared to Jordan and bathed +there. Earl Rognvald and Sigmund Angle swam across the river and went +up on the bank there, and thither where was a thicket of brushwood, and +there they twisted great knots. After that they fared back to Jerusalem. + +“Earl Rognvald and his men fared that summer from the land of Jewry, and +meant to go north to Micklegarth [Constantinople], and came about autumn +to that town which is called Imbolar. They stayed there a very long time +in the town. They had that watchword in the town, if men met one another +walking where it was throng and narrow, and the one thought it needful +that the other who met him should yield him the path, then he says thus, +‘Out of the way; out of the way.’ One evening as the earl and his men +were coming out of the town, and Erling Wryneck went out along the wharf +to his ship, some of the townsmen met him and called out, ‘Out of the +way; out of the way.’ Erling was very drunk, and made as though he heard +them not, and when they ran against one another, Erling fell off the +wharf and down into the mud which was below; and his men ran down to pick +him up, and had to strip off every stitch of his clothes and wash him. +Next morning when he and the earl met, and he was told what had happened, +he smiled at it. + +“After that they fared away thence. And nothing is told of their voyage +before they come north to Engilsness [Cape St. Angelo]. There they lay +some nights and waited for a wind which would seem fair to them to sail +north along the sea to Micklegarth. They took great pains then with +their sailing, and so sailed with great pomp, just as they had heard that +Sigurd Jewry-farer had done. + +“When Earl Rognvald and his men came to Micklegarth they had a hearty +welcome from the emperor and the Varangians. Menelaus was then emperor +over Micklegarth, whom we call Manuel. He gave the earl much goods, and +offered them bounty-money if they would stay there. They stayed there +awhile that winter in very good cheer. There was Eindrid the Young, and +he had very great honour from the emperor. He had little to do with Earl +Rognvald and his men, and rather tried to set other men against them. + +“Earl Rognvald set out on his voyage home that winter from Micklegarth, +and fared first west to Bulgarialand, to Dyrrachburg. Thence he sailed +west across the sea to Poule. There Earl Rognvald and Bishop William and +Erling, and all the nobler men of their band, landed from their ships, +and got them horses and rode thence first to Rome, and so homewards on +the way from Rome until they come to Denmark, and thence they fared north +to Norway. There men were glad to see them, and this voyage was most +famous, and they who had gone on it were thought to be men of much more +worth after than before.” + + _From the “Orkneyinga Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.L. + (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_ + +[Illustration: _A Great Viking._ + +_(From the picture by H. W. Koekkoek.)_] + + + + +SWEYN ASLEIFSON, THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS. + + +The sudden disappearance of Earl Paul, by which Earl Rognvald had been +left in sole possession of the Orkneys, was, as we have said, due to a +certain Viking, Sweyn Asleifson of Gairsay. This Sweyn is one of the +most remarkable men in all Orcadian history. Among the Vikings of old he +was the greatest, and he was the last. Of him the Saga says: “He was the +greatest man in the western lands, either in old time or at the present +day.” + +For the slaying of one of Earl Paul’s men Sweyn had had to escape out of +the isles. He abode for a time in the Hebrides, and afterwards sought +refuge in the dales of Scotland, where Margaret, the daughter of Earl +Hakon, was married to Maddad, Earl of Athole. He had promised to help +Harald, their son, to become Earl of the Orkneys, and it was with a view +to this that he kidnapped Earl Paul. + +On that morning Earl Paul had gone out early from Westness to hunt the +otter near Scabro Head. Sweyn had sailed over from Thurso, keeping to the +west of Hoy and the Mainland, and was now rowing into Evie Sound, for +he had heard that Earl Paul was staying with Sigurd of Westness. As they +rowed near the land, Sweyn ordered all his men to lie hid except those at +the oars, that the ship might look like a peaceful merchant-vessel. + +When the earl saw the ship rowing near the rocks, he called out to the +men that they should go on to Westness with their wares for Earl Paul. +Then Sweyn, who was lying hid, bade his men ask where the earl was. + +“The earl is here on the rocks,” was the reply. + +“Row quickly to land at a place where they will not see us,” said Sweyn +to his men; “and let us arm ourselves, for we have work to do.” + +The ship was rowed to the shore, as he had said, and Sweyn and his men +armed themselves and fell upon Earl Paul and his company. These, being +unarmed, were soon disposed of. The earl was seized and taken aboard the +ship, and Sweyn immediately set sail for Scotland by the way he had come. + +Sigurd marvelled when the earl did not return from his hunting, and +men were sent out to look for him. They came upon the bodies of the +slain—nineteen of the earl’s men and six strangers—but the earl himself +had disappeared. It was at first thought that Earl Rognvald had had +something to do with his disappearance, and it was many days before men +knew what had become of the vanished earl. + +In the meantime Sweyn had carried Paul to Athole, and placed him in the +keeping of Maddad and Margaret. His after fate is unknown. The story +which Sweyn afterwards told is that Paul did not wish to return to +Orkney, so shameful had been the manner of his leaving it; and that he +wished it to be reported that he had been blinded or maimed, in order +that men should not seek to bring him back. Sweyn himself came back to +Orkney with this story; and he acknowledged Earl Rognvald, and became +very friendly with him. + +As the great Earl of Warwick has been called “the king-maker” in England, +so Sweyn may be called the “earl-maker” in Orkney. He it was who caused +Harald, the son of Maddad, to be made earl, and he also supported Earl +Erlend in his claims while Earl Rognvald was in the Holy Land. He gained +the friendship of David, King of Scots, Viking though he was, and the +terror of the Scottish and Irish seas. Many of Sweyn’s Viking raids +are told in the Orkney Saga, one of the most famous being that known +as Sweyn’s “Broadcloth Cruise.” The following account is given of this +cruise, and of the death of Sweyn:— + +“These tidings happened once on a time, that Sweyn Asleifson fared away +on his spring-cruise, and Hakon, Earl Harald’s son, fared with him; and +they had five ships with oars, and all of them large. They harried about +among the Southern Isles. Then the folk were so scared at him in the +Southern Isles that men hid all their goods and chattels in the earth or +in piles of rocks. Sweyn sailed as far south as Man, and got ill off for +spoil. Thence they sailed out under Ireland and harried there. But when +they came about south under Dublin, then two keels sailed there from off +the main, which had come from England, and meant to steer for Dublin; +they were laden with English cloths, and great store of goods was aboard +them. + +“Sweyn and his men pulled up to the keels and offered them battle. Little +came of the defence of the Englishmen before Sweyn gave the word to +board. Then the Englishmen were made prisoners. And there they robbed +them of every penny which was aboard the keels, save that the Englishmen +kept the clothes they stood in and some food, and went on their way +afterwards with the keels; but Sweyn and his men fared to the Southern +Isles and shared their war-spoil. + +“They sailed from the west with great pomp. They did this as a glory for +themselves when they lay in harbours, that they threw awnings of English +cloth over their ships. But when they sailed into the Orkneys, they sewed +the cloth on the fore-part of the sails, so that it looked in that wise +as though the sails were made altogether of broadcloth. This they called +the Broadcloth Cruise. + +“Sweyn fared home to his house in Gairsay. He had taken from the keels +much wine and English mead. Now when Sweyn had been at home a short +while, he bade to him Earl Harald, and made a worthy feast against his +coming. When Earl Harald was at the feast, there was much talk amongst +them of Sweyn’s good cheer. The earl spoke and said: ‘This I would now, +Sweyn, that thou wouldst lay aside thy sea-rovings; ’tis good now to +drive home with a whole wain. But thou knowest this, that thou hast long +maintained thyself and thy men by sea-roving; but so it fares with most +men who live by unfair means, that they lose their lives in strife, if +they do not break themselves from it.’ + +“Then Sweyn answered, and looked to the earl, and spoke with a smile, +and said thus: ‘Well spoken is this, lord, and friendly spoken, and it +will be good to take a bit of good counsel from you; but some men lay +that to your door, that ye too are men of little fairness.’ The earl +answered: ‘I shall have to answer for my share, but a gossiping tongue +drives me to say what I do.’ + +“Sweyn said: ‘Good, no doubt, drives you to it, lord. And so it shall be, +that I will leave off sea-roving, for I find that I am growing old, and +strength lessens much in hardships and warfare. Now I will go out on my +autumn-cruise, and I would that it might be with no less glory than the +spring-cruise was; but after that my wayfaring shall be over.’ The earl +answers: ‘’Tis hard to see, messmate, whether death or lasting luck will +come first.’ After that they dropped talking about it. Earl Harald fared +away from the feast, and was led out with fitting gifts. So he and Sweyn +parted with great love-tokens. + +“A little while after, Sweyn busks him for his roving cruise; he had +seven long-ships, and all great. Hakon, Earl Harald’s son, went along +with Sweyn on his voyage. They held on their course first to the Southern +Isles, and got there little war-spoil; thence they fared out under +Ireland, and harried there far and wide. They fared so far south as +Dublin, and came upon them there very suddenly, so that the townsmen were +not ware of them before they had got into the town. They took there much +goods. They made prisoners there those men who were rulers there in the +town. The upshot of their business was that they gave the town up into +Sweyn’s power, and agreed to pay as great a ransom as he chose to lay +upon them. Sweyn was also to hold the town with his men and to have rule +over it. The Dublin men sware an oath to do this. Next morning Sweyn was +to come into the town and take the ransom. + +“Now it must be told of what happened in the town during the night. The +men of good counsel who were in the town held a meeting among themselves, +and talked over the straits which had befallen them; it seemed to them +hard to let their town come into the power of the Orkneyingers, and +worst of all of that man whom they knew to be the most unjust man in the +western lands. So they agreed amongst themselves that they would cheat +Sweyn if they might. They took that counsel, that they dug great trenches +before the burg-gate on the inside, and in many other places between the +houses where it was meant that Sweyn and his men should pass; but men +lay in wait there in the houses hard by with weapons. They laid planks +over the trenches, so that they should fall down as soon as ever a man’s +weight comes on them. After that they strewed straw on the planks so that +the trenches might not be seen, and so bided the morrow. + +“On the morning after, Sweyn and his men arose and put on their arms; +after that they went to the town. And when they came inside beyond the +burg-gate, the Dublin men made a lane from the burg-gate right to the +trenches. Sweyn and his men saw not what they were doing, and ran into +the trenches. The townsmen then ran straightway to hold the burg-gate, +but some to the trenches, and brought their arms to bear on Sweyn and his +men. It was unhandy for them to make any defence, and Sweyn lost his +life there in the trenches, and all those who had gone into the town. +So it was said that Sweyn was the last to die of all his messmates, and +spoke these words ere he died: ‘Know this, all men, whether I lose my +life to-day or not, that I am one of the Saint Earl Rognvald’s bodyguard, +and I now mean to put my trust in being there where he is with God.’ +Sweyn’s men fared at once to their ships and pulled away, and nothing is +told about their voyage before they come into the Orkneys.” + + _From the “Orkneyinga Saga,” translated by Sir G. W. Dasent, D.C.I. + (By permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office.)_ + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE DECAY OF THE EARLDOM AND THE END OF THE WESTERN KINGDOM. + + +After the death of Earl Rognvald, the islands were ruled for almost fifty +years by Harald Maddadson. Harald’s later days were full of troubles. +With the decay of his powers the glory of the earldom also faded away. In +1194, when Sverrir was King of Norway, a rebellion took place, with the +object of placing Sigurd Erlingson on the throne. Sigurd’s party, known +as the “Eyjarskeggjar” or “Island-beardies,” had their headquarters in +the Orkneys. There they collected their forces, and there the rebellion +was organized. The rebels were completely overthrown in a great battle +fought near Bergen. Sverrir summoned Earl Harald before him in 1196 to +answer for his share in the matter. As a punishment for permitting plots +against him to be hatched in Orkney—plots which the gray-haired old earl +had been powerless to prevent—the king compelled him to surrender the +government of Shetland. For nearly two centuries thereafter Orkney and +Shetland were separate, the former ruled by the earl, the latter by a +governor appointed by the Norwegian crown. + +The result of this was twofold. In the first place it weakened the power +of the Orkney earldom; in the second place it caused the earldom to draw +nearer to Scotland, and to come more and more under Scottish influence. +But the aged earl’s cup of sorrow was not yet full. He quarrelled also +with the Scottish king. As a consequence of this quarrel he was stripped +of his Scottish possessions, and his son Thorfinn perished miserably, a +prisoner in Roxburgh Castle. When Earl Harald died in 1206, full of years +and of sorrows, the earldom was but the shadow of its former self. + +After Harald’s death, his two sons, John and David, succeeded to the +earldom. David did not live long, and John was then left sole earl. This +earl, the last of the old Norse jarls, was Earl of Orkney excluding +Shetland, holding that earldom from the Norwegian king, and Earl of +Caithness, including Sutherland, holding that from the King of Scotland. +Matters continued in this state generally till the pledging of the +islands in 1468, the only change being that Shetland was again added to +the Orkney earldom in 1379, when Henry, the first of the St. Clairs, +became earl. + +The days of Earl John, like those of his father, were stormy, and +disaster after disaster fell upon the isles. The burning of Bishop Adam +at Halkirk in Caithness brought down on the earl the vengeance of King +Alexander the Second of Scotland. The earl had no hand in the murder, +but he was near by, and, in the opinion of King Alexander, might have +prevented the tragedy. Then a feud arose between the earl and some of +the leaders of a Norse expedition to the Western Isles. The earl was +attacked suddenly in Thurso, and there murdered. This took place in +the year 1231. The murderers took refuge in the Castle of Weir, where +they were besieged by the earl’s friends and adherents. Ultimately both +parties agreed that the case should be submitted to the Norwegian king. + +The chief men of the islands embarked for Norway to be present at the +trial of the murderers, which ended in their conviction and punishment. +But a terrible disaster for the Orkney earldom followed. All the leading +men of the islands left Norway in one ship, and set sail for Orkney late +in autumn. Stormy weather set in shortly after their departure. Fears +which were entertained for the safety of the ship proved to be only too +well founded: the ship was never heard of again. With her went down +nearly all the nobility of the earldom. This disaster, which happened in +1232, was irremediable. Well does the Saga of Hakon Hakonson say, “Many +men have had to suffer for this later.” The earldom never recovered from +the loss of its best blood, and but for this loss the after course of +events might have been very different. Henceforth the Orkney earldom +plays but a subordinate part in the history of the North. + +In 1232 King Alexander of Scotland granted the Earldom of Caithness to +Magnus, son of Gilbride, Earl of Angus. Magnus was at the same time +confirmed in the Earldom of Orkney by the King of Norway. But King +Alexander made Sutherland a separate earldom, William Friskyn being +created first earl. Thus within a period of forty years the earldom, +which had at one time rivalled the power of Scotland itself, and had been +at once the centre and the defence of the Norse Empire in the west, was +stripped of more than half its territories. + +The Scottish king had a deep purpose to serve in thus weakening the +northern earldom. He was already casting covetous eyes on the Hebrides, +and every blow struck at the power of the Orkney earl was a step towards +the conquest of the Western Isles. In the heyday of Norse ascendency +there was danger of the western Norse colonies swallowing up Scotland +rather than of Scotland swallowing up these colonies. But Hakon of Norway +was now too busy at home repressing internal disorders to give much +thought to the ambitions of the Scottish king, and the Orkney earl was +too weak to form a serious obstacle, besides which he was more than half +Scottish himself. + +For many years the chiefs of the Hebrides and the Western Isles had been +wavering in their allegiance to the Norwegian crown. King Alexander was +also doing his utmost to undermine Norse influence in the west. While he +was carrying on intrigues with the western chiefs, he at the same time +kept sending embassies to Norway to treat with Hakon for the purchase of +these islands. Hakon’s answer was brief and decided: He was not yet so +much in want of money that he needed to sell his lands for it. + +The next King of Scotland, Alexander the Third, had the same ambitions as +his father, and as resolutely pursued his schemes for the subjugation of +the Hebrides. He was, moreover, a young, energetic, and warlike king. He +found the island chiefs very troublesome neighbours. His father’s policy +of intrigue was too slow for him, and he determined to take by force what +he could not obtain by treaty. + +In 1262 the Scots invaded the Norse dominions in the west. Hakon, who had +now pacified his own kingdom, was at last roused to make a serious effort +to preserve his over-sea dominions. In the summer of 1263 he “let letters +of summons be sent round all Norway, and called out the levies both of +men and stores as he thought the land could bear it. He summoned all the +host to meet him early in the summer at Bergen.” + +A mighty fleet assembled in obedience to the king’s command, and, under +the leadership of Hakon himself, set sail from Norway in the end of July +1263. After delaying through the summer in Shetland and Orkney, this +ill-fated expedition reached the Firth of Clyde in late autumn. Alexander +the Third, knowing well that he could not hope to meet the Norsemen at +sea, prepared to give them as warm a reception as possible wherever +they might land. In the meantime he pretended to be anxious for peace. +Negotiations were opened between the two kings. Alexander temporized: +winter was approaching. + +Hakon’s patience at last gave way, and breaking off negotiations, the +Norsemen began to harry the country, receiving willing aid from the +various half-Celtic chieftains, who enjoyed nothing so much as an +opportunity of ravaging the fertile Lowlands. But that ally whose coming +Alexander had been awaiting came at length; on the first of October +a great storm from the south-west arose suddenly during the night. +Hakon’s ships began to drag their anchors. They fouled each other in +the darkness, and several were driven ashore on the Ayrshire coast. When +morning dawned, Hakon found his own ship within bowshot of the shore, +while the Scots were already plundering one which had stranded near by. + +During a lull in the storm Hakon managed to land a detachment of his men +to protect the stranded galley. But the storm increased in fury once +more. The Norsemen on shore were outnumbered probably by ten to one, and +no help could be sent from the ships. The Vikings threw themselves into +a circle bristling with spear-points. Onset after onset of the Scots +forced the ring of spears slowly back towards the shore, but they could +not break it. All day long the battle raged—the Norsemen with the angry +sea behind them, and no hope of succour from their fleet; the Scots +determined to drive the invaders into the sea, or slay them where they +stood. + +As evening began to fall the storm moderated, and Hakon was able to send +reinforcements on shore. The Scots were borne backwards by the onset +of the fresh warriors. But night was falling, and the Norsemen were +anxious to get back to their ships, for the storm was not yet over. They +accordingly hastened to take advantage of the breathing-space which they +had won, and retired to their ships. + +Such was the famous battle of Largs, which both Scots and Norsemen claim +as a victory. In itself it was little more than a skirmish; but the +events of that night and day, the storm and the battle together, gave the +death-blow to Norse dominion in the west. The heart of King Hakon failed +him. His men also were discouraged. The shattered remains of the once +splendid fleet set sail for Orkney, and the great invasion of Scotland +was over. + +Broken in spirit and shattered in health, Hakon reached Orkney only to +die. Part of his fleet was ordered to proceed to Norway, and part was +laid up for the winter in Scapa Bay and Houton Cove. Scarcely had these +matters been attended to when his fatal sickness seized the king. In the +Bishop’s Palace in Kirkwall he spent his last hours. Here at midnight, on +Saturday, December 15, 1263, in the sixtieth year of his eventful life, +died Hakon Hakonson, the last of the great sea-kings of Norway. + +The remains of the king were carried to the cathedral, where they lay in +state, and were afterwards temporarily interred in the choir near the +shrine of St. Magnus. When spring came, Hakon’s body was exhumed and +taken to Bergen in Norway, where it was finally laid to rest in the choir +of Christ Church. + +After the death of Hakon, his son Magnus, now King of Norway, sent +ambassadors to the Scottish king to treat for peace, and a treaty was +signed at Perth in 1266. By this treaty Norway resigned her rights in the +Hebrides, in consideration of Scotland’s paying down four thousand marks, +besides a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus +Cathedral, Kirkwall. This tribute, called the Annual of Norway, was the +direct cause of the troubles which preceded the marriage of James the +Third of Scotland and Princess Margaret of Denmark. + +A large proportion of King Hakon’s forces had to be maintained in Orkney +during the winter succeeding Largs. To provide for this, the lands of +the earldom were divided into sections, and charged with the maintenance +of the soldiers in proportion to the amount of “skatt” each section +owed the king. The Skatt Book of the earldom was prepared—a list of +the lands therein, and the amount of skatt which they paid. It was the +Domesday Book of the Orkneys. On this Skatt Book were based the Scottish +Rentals, which came into such prominence in the history of the Scottish +oppressions during the sixteenth century. + +[Illustration: _Ruins of the Bishop’s Palace, Kirkwall._] + + + + +THE ANNEXATION TO SCOTLAND. + + +The history of Orkney during the two centuries which intervened +between the battle of Largs and the annexation to Scotland contains +little of interest. The earldom was held by Scottish families, first +the Strathernes, and then the St. Clairs. The sympathies of the earls +were with the Scots, the people were mainly Norse, and as a natural +consequence quarrels frequently arose between the earls and their +subjects. Another source of trouble was the fact that the earls generally +held possessions in Scotland, and were thus subjects of Scotland as +well as of Norway. The islands were neglected by both countries, being +of little importance to Norway as governed by foreigners, and of little +interest to Scotland as owned by a foreign country. + +Several of the earls took a prominent part in the affairs of Scotland, +and were men of mark and highly esteemed by the Scottish sovereigns. +Thus Magnus, the last of the Angus line, was one of the eight Scottish +noblemen who, in 1320, subscribed the famous letter to the Pope asserting +the independence of Scotland; and Henry, the second of the St. Clairs, +was entrusted by King Robert the Third with the task of conveying the +young Prince James to a safe asylum in France, when that prince was made +prisoner by the English. + +In the history of Orkney itself the only man of note among the Scottish +earls was Henry, the first of the St. Clairs, the builder of Kirkwall +Castle. Henry became earl in 1379. Under his rule Orkney and Shetland +were once more united. He is the only one of the Scottish earls who can +be at all compared with the old Norse jarls of Orkney. In everything +except name he was king of his island dominions, ruling them as he +pleased without much thought of either Norway or Scotland. + +It was in the time of William, the third of the St. Clair earls, that +the transference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland took place. The +circumstances which led to this important event must now be related. + +After the battle of Largs a treaty of peace between Norway and Scotland +had been signed at Perth in 1266, Norway resigning the Hebrides in return +for an immediate payment by Scotland of four thousand marks, and in +addition a tribute of one hundred marks to be paid annually in St. Magnus +Cathedral, Kirkwall. For every failure to pay this tribute—known in +history as the Annual of Norway—Scotland was liable to a penalty of ten +thousand marks. This treaty was afterwards confirmed by Hakon the Fifth +and Robert the Bruce at Inverness in 1312. + +In 1397 Norway, Sweden, and Denmark were united under one sovereign. +When, in 1448, Christian the First became king of the united realms, +payment by Scotland of the Annual of Norway had been neglected for some +forty years. According to the Treaty of Perth, Scotland was therefore +liable to a penalty of over four hundred thousand marks. Christian’s +exchequer was empty; here was an opportunity of replenishing it. About +1460 Christian made a threatening demand for payment of the whole sum due. + +The sum demanded was so large that it would have been no easy matter for +Scotland to pay it, however willing she might be. Christian had concluded +an alliance with France, and France had always been the firm friend of +Scotland. When a rupture between Denmark and Scotland seemed inevitable, +the French king employed all his influence to secure a compromise. He +suggested that a marriage should be arranged between Prince James of +Scotland, afterwards James the Third, and Margaret, Christian’s daughter, +trusting that the negotiations in connection with the marriage would lead +to the friendly settlement of the matters in dispute. + +Prolonged negotiations took place between the two countries. Scotland at +first demanded the remission of the Annual of Norway with arrears, the +cession of Orkney and Shetland, and a dowry of a hundred thousand crowns. +To these terms Christian refused to listen. The death of James the Second +at the siege of Roxburgh Castle suspended negotiations for a time. Some +years after the accession of James the Third they were resumed. The +final result was the Marriage Treaty of 1468, which brought about the +transference of Orkney and Shetland to Scotland. + +The main provisions of the Marriage Treaty were these:—(1.) That the +Princess Margaret’s dowry should amount to fifty thousand florins; ten +thousand to be paid within the year, and the islands of Orkney to be +pledged for the remaining forty thousand.—Only two thousand florins were +paid, Shetland being pledged in the following year for the remaining +eight thousand. (2.) That the rights of Christian as King of Norway +should be exercised in the islands by the Scottish king until the forty +thousand florins were paid. (3.) That the islanders should enjoy their +own customs and laws while under Scottish rule. + +Christian would not consent to the permanent cession of the islands to +Scotland under any conditions. In fact nothing but the direst financial +straits can account for his even pledging them. But he had just finished +a costly war in Sweden, his exchequer was empty, and the Scottish +marriage seemed to him very desirable. + +On this Marriage Treaty of 1468, and on the agreement afterwards made +with Earl William, Scotland bases her claim to the islands of Orkney and +Shetland. It is certain that Christian intended to redeem the islands, +and even as late as 1668 the plenipotentiaries of Europe assembled at +Breda declared that Denmark—it ought to be Norway—still retained the +right to redeem them. + +Scottish influence in Orkney had been increasing for many years previous +to the annexation. The needy dependants of the various Scottish noblemen +who held the earldom found the islands a happy hunting-ground for their +avarice or for their need. There was thus a strong party in Orkney in +favour of the annexation to Scotland. But the large majority of the +inhabitants could not but regard the change of masters with dismay. +Scotland was an alien power, and had usually been a hostile one. Her laws +and institutions had little in common with those of the northern earldom. +Besides this, her tenure being only temporary, she had no inducement +to promote the welfare of the islands, but on the contrary her obvious +interest was to make as much profit as possible from her opportunity. + +From 1468 onwards, till long after the termination of Scottish and +the beginning of British rule, the lot of the islanders was far from +enviable. The transformation of the leading Norse earldom into a minor +Scottish county was the work of those years. The process by which this +was accomplished was a long-continued series of injuries and oppressions, +the story of which forms too long a tale to be fully told here. + +[Illustration: _Knocking Stone and Mell._] + + + + +UDAL AND FEUDAL. + + +Orkney and Shetland were handed over to Scotland, but care was taken to +secure the rights of the inhabitants of the islands by the provision in +the treaty of 1468 that they should be governed according to their own +laws and usages. These were different from those of Scotland in several +important particulars. Unfortunately, the new Scottish rulers did not +know the laws of the earldom, and did not care to learn them. + +With regard to the holding of land, the laws of Scotland were entirely +different from those of Orkney. In Scotland land was held according +to the feudal system, in Orkney according to the udal system. Under +the feudal system the king was nominally the owner of all the lands in +the kingdom. The various landlords held their lands from him as their +superior, in exchange for certain services to be rendered or payments to +be made, and by a written title, without which they had no legal claim to +the land. + +The udal system has been described as “the direct negation of every +feudal principle.” The udaller held his land without any written title, +subject to no service or payment to a superior, and with full possession +and every conceivable right of ownership. The udaller was a peasant +noble; he was the king’s equal and not his vassal. He owed king or jarl +no services, duties, or payment for his udal lands, which he held as an +absolute possession, inalienable from him and his race. + +It must not be supposed that all the land in Orkney was held udally, or +that all the inhabitants were udallers. There were some udallers who +held part of their land as tenants, and many of the islanders held no +udal land at all. All landholders, whether udallers or tenants, had to +pay a tax, called “skatt.” This was a tax levied to meet the expenses of +government and defence. Skatt was paid sometimes to the King of Norway, +sometimes to the Earl of Orkney, but it was legally the property of +the crown. Hakon, when he lay dying in Kirkwall, levied skatt on the +landholders of Orkney for the support of his troops during the winter. +In this he was only exercising the undoubted right of the crown of +Norway. But the skatt was never a rent, and never carried with it the +acknowledgment of king or jarl as the real landowner. + +When Orkney came under Scottish rule, the King of Scotland became +entitled to the skatt. Some Scottish nobleman or churchman was usually +appointed to collect the revenues of the crown in the earldom. This +nobleman or churchman was paid a commission on what he collected, +together with any trifles he might extort “in ony manner of way.” +Sometimes the revenues of the earldom were farmed out to the collector, +an annual sum being paid by him into the royal treasury as rent. This +arrangement afforded much room for extortion, and all the more so because +the crown collector was ignorant, or could pretend to be ignorant, of +Orkney law and of the udal system. + +In 1471 the Scottish crown purchased from Earl William all the lands and +revenues which he held as Earl of Orkney. In 1472 Bishop William Tulloch +was appointed to collect the revenues of the crown in Orkney. The period +of Scottish oppression at once began. The bishop was deeply imbued with +feudal prejudices. He had a rental drawn up, in which he registered the +lands of udaller and tenant indiscriminately, with a studied confusion +of their different rights. Both udal and feudal payments were exacted as +rents from all holders of land. + +The udaller had no one to whom he could appeal to right his wrongs and +protect him against oppression. He had no written titles. The bishop +ruled the bishopric as bishop, and he ruled the earldom as representative +of the crown. The churches were filled with Scottish priests subservient +to his will. The struggle was hopeless from the beginning, but it took a +century to reduce the peasant nobles of Orkney to the position and rank +of tenant farmers, and in the meantime the various rulers of the islands +reaped a rich harvest. + +Bishop Tulloch’s rule lasted for seven years, and was followed by six +years under Bishop Andrew. Then in 1485 Henry St. Clair was appointed +representative of the crown in Orkney. The St. Clairs had always been +popular in the islands, and the islanders rejoiced at the appointment +of Lord Henry. He redressed a number of grievances, but the fundamental +change of udal into feudal which had begun went on unchecked. It was too +profitable a confusion to be put right. + +After the death of Lord Henry St. Clair at Flodden, turmoil and confusion +reigned in the earldom. His widow, Lady Margaret Hepburn, held the crown +lands in Orkney for nearly thirty years, but she was quite unable to rule +the islands. A report got abroad that the king intended to give Orkney +a feudal lord. In 1529 the trouble came to a head. James St. Clair, +the most popular of that popular family, was made Governor of Kirkwall +Castle, and put himself at the head of the discontented faction. Open +rebellion followed. Lord William St. Clair, son of Lady Margaret remained +loyal, and had to escape to Caithness. + +Allied with the Earl of Caithness, Lord William invaded the islands with +a considerable force. The invaders were met at Summerdale in Stenness by +the rebels under James St. Clair, and were defeated with great slaughter. +Many old stories about this battle still exist. The Caithness force +landed in Orphir, and on their march they are said to have encountered a +witch, whom they consulted as to the omens of success. She walked before +them, unwinding together two balls of thread, one blue and the other red. +She asked them to choose one of the balls as the symbol of their fortune, +and they chose the red. The red thread was the first to come to an end. + +Unwilling to accept this omen, they demanded that the witch should give +them yet another sign. She thereupon informed the Earl of Caithness that +whichever side lost the first man in the fight would lose the day. Soon +afterwards a boy was met herding cattle, and by order of the earl he was +slain. Only after the deed was done did they discover that the boy was +not an Orcadian but a native of Caithness. + +Already prepared for defeat by these bad omens, the invaders came upon +the Orcadian force at Summerdale. The Orcadians assailed them with +showers of stones, and the Caithness force was quickly destroyed. Only +one Orcadian is said to have fallen. He, having dressed himself in the +clothes of one of the fallen enemy, was slain in the dusk of the evening +as he returned home. His mother mistook him for one of the invading +force, and felled him by a blow with a stone in the foot of a stocking. + +Such are some of the tales tradition has woven round this fight. It +was the last stand of the udallers, and the last pitched battle fought +on Orcadian soil, if we except the siege of Kirkwall Castle during the +rebellion of the Stewarts. + +After the battle of Summerdale the islands still remained in a very +unsettled condition, until in 1540 James the Fifth thought his presence +necessary to restore tranquillity. The king stayed with the bishop in +Kirkwall, though not in the ancient Bishop’s Palace, which had witnessed +the death of King Hakon. The visit of the king led to the removal of many +abuses. But his death in 1542, and the long minority of his daughter, +Mary Queen of Scots, brought back the former evils in an aggravated +form. For twenty years the records of the islands are records of murder, +violence, and oppression. The udallers were now a comparatively feeble +folk, but their worst period of oppression was still to come. + + + + +THE STEWART EARLS. + + +In 1565 began the most cruel oppression which the islands suffered +under Scottish rule. Lord Robert Stewart, a son of James the Fifth and +half-brother of the Earl of Moray, obtained a feu charter of Orkney and +Shetland. This grant was illegal in every way. It was not sanctioned +by Parliament, and it disposed not only of the actual property which +the crown of Scotland had acquired in the islands, but of the lands and +services of the udallers or free landowners, which had never belonged +to Norway or Denmark, and could not therefore have been acquired by +Scotland. In exchange for the revenues of the Abbey of Holyrood, the new +earl also obtained possession of the lands and revenues of the Bishopric +of Orkney. + +To oppress the udallers so as to compel them to accept feus from him +was the unvarying object of Earl Robert’s policy. He aggravated the +burdens of the islanders by making them use weights and measures of his +own devising, and increased their liabilities to him by a coinage of +his own valuation. He raised the rents of the tenants to the limits of +endurance, made every occasional or special payment an annual burden, +imposed parish taxes as household taxes, and by pretended decrees of the +Thing, or council, evicted many udallers without a show of justice. Heavy +tolls and duties were laid on all fishermen and traders who came to the +islands, and secret encouragement was given to pirates, whose booty was +shared by the earl. + +The more bitter the complaints of the islanders, the more grievous became +their oppression. To prevent these complaints reaching the ears of the +authorities in Edinburgh, the earl forbade any one to cross the firths or +ferries without his permission. It began also to be whispered that Earl +Robert was plotting to sever once more the connection between Orkney and +the Scottish crown. He had made additions to the old palace at Birsay, +and on a stone over the principal gate he had caused to be inscribed: +DOMINUS ROBERTUS STEWARTUS FILIUS JACOBI QUINTI REX SCOTORUM HOC OPUS +INSTRUXIT—that is, “Earl Robert Stewart, son of James the Fifth, King of +the Scots, erected this building.” Those who know a little Latin will +observe that by his using the nominative case _rex_, it is Earl Robert +himself and not James the Fifth whom he describes as “King of the Scots.” +This was probably a mere mistake in the earl’s Latin, but a much graver +meaning was attached to it by the Scottish King and Parliament when the +whisper of treason somehow reached their ears. + +The complaints of the udallers might be unheeded, but the accusation +of treason was a much more serious matter. The earl was summoned to +Edinburgh to answer the charges against him. He was kept for some time +a prisoner in Linlithgow Castle, but the storm quickly blew over. No +trial ever took place. That ordeal Earl Robert escaped by the help of his +powerful friends and relatives; and not only so, but in 1581 he was once +more granted the Earldom of Orkney and Shetland, with extended powers. + +When Robert Stewart died, the islands were granted to his son, Patrick +Stewart, the most cruel oppressor of all. Skilful in tyranny and +extortion as Earl Robert had been, his son showed still more ability +and ingenuity in his evil courses. The multiplication of enactments +and penalties for the most trivial offences, confiscation, torture, +and judicial murder—these were the additions Earl Patrick made to the +machinery of oppression used by his father. He had palaces built for him +at Scalloway and at Kirkwall by the same forced labour that had already +reared Earl Robert’s palace in Birsay. But Earl Patrick’s career is best +described in the words of Mackenzie:— + +“Earl Patrick—still remembered in Orkney tradition as ‘Black Pate’—was +a man of kingly ideas, and had his lot been cast in Egypt instead of in +Orkney, would have done very well as one of the Pharaohs. ‘Heaven is high +and the Czar is far away,’ says a Russian proverb. Orkney is far from +Holyrood and farther from London, and the earl did his own pleasure in +his domain, without having the fear of the distant king before his eyes. + +“Most astounding and extraordinary was the system of tyranny and +extortion which he carried on. He accused one and another of the gentry +of the islands of high treason, and tried them in his own court. But +it was not his object to punish these gentlemen as traitors against +the king. In that case their forfeited estates would go to the king, +which would be no profit to the earl. The earl was not so simple. The +frightened udallers were glad enough to compound with the formidable earl +by making over to him a portion of their lands to save the remainder and +their own necks. + +“The Orkney potentate dealt in exactions of every description. He +extorted taxes and duties. He created ferries and levied exorbitant tolls +on them. He compelled the people to work for him all manner of work. He +forced them to row his boats and man his ships, to toil in his quarries, +to convey stones and lime for the building of his palace and park walls, +and to perform whatever other kinds of slave-labour he chose to demand, +‘without either meat or drink or hire.’ + +“The Czar though far away sometimes hears at last. The doings of this +tyrant of the isles attracted the attention of the law. He was seized +and put in ward in Dumbarton Castle. What schemes were in his proud, +fierce head it is difficult to guess. This is known, that, under his +instructions, his son Robert occupied the castle of Kirkwall with armed +men, fortified the cathedral, and stood ready to hold his own. + +“As soon as it became known in Edinburgh that Orkney was in rebellion, +the king’s Secret Council dispatched the Earl of Caithness to bring it +under. Two great cannons were wheeled down from Edinburgh Castle and +shipped at Leith along with a strong military force. The expedition +landed safely within a mile and a half of Kirkwall. The great cannons +were pointed against the castle. They shot and got their answer in shot. +The siege continued about a month, when the rebels gave in. Caithness +returned to Edinburgh with Robert Stewart and other prisoners, and the +two great cannons passed up the High Street in triumph, to the sound +of drum and trumpet, with the keys of Kirkwall Castle hanging at their +muzzles. + +“Robert Stewart was condemned to death and hanged at the Market Cross +along with five of his accomplices. The people pitied him greatly, for it +was his father’s scheming that had led him to destruction. His father’s +execution soon followed. The ministers who tried to prepare him for +death, finding him so ignorant that he could not say the Lord’s Prayer, +asked the Council to delay his execution for a few days, till he could be +better informed. The request was granted, and then he went his way into +the great darkness.” + +The rebellion of Earl Patrick led to the abolition of the Thing and the +ancient laws of Orkney and Shetland, but there was little change for +the better in the government of the islands. They were assigned to one +nobleman after another, no one having any interest in their improvement. +It was, indeed, not till the eighteenth century that any very great +effort was made to give them the benefits of good government and a chance +to regain somewhat of their ancient prosperity. + +[Illustration: _Pot Querns and Saddle Quern._] + + + + +THE EIGHTEENTH AND NINETEENTH CENTURIES. + + +During the long period of oppression by the Scottish earls, the state of +our islands had been indeed deplorable, and recovery was slow. The spirit +was crushed out of the people. Industry was vain when plunder was sure +to follow. Agriculture could not advance when the alien landlord claimed +all the profit. An Orkney writer of the eighteenth century gives a sad +picture of the condition of the country in his day:— + +“The inhabitants, in general, are very polite, hospitable, and kind to +strangers; but I am sorry to say that so little is industry encouraged +in our country that no means can be assigned by which the lower class of +people can get their bread. By reason of having no employment they must +live very wretchedly; they become indolent and lazy to the last degree, +insomuch that rather than raise cabbage for their own use they will steal +from others; and instead of being at pains to prepare the turf, which +they have for the mere trouble of cutting up and drying, yet, rather than +do so, they will steal it from those who are richer or more industrious +than themselves.... Every Saturday, which day they are privileged to +beg, a troop of miserable, ragged creatures are seen going from door to +door, almost numerous enough to plunder the whole town were they to exert +themselves against it in an hostile manner—at least, if their valour was +in proportion to their distress.” + +The dawn of a brighter day came slowly, and it is difficult now to +trace the steps by which the prosperity of the islands was restored. +Agriculture remained in a very primitive state till the nineteenth +century had well begun. An Orkney “township” had a very different +appearance in those days from what we now see. The farms were not divided +from one another; each patch of cultivated ground belonged to all the +farmers in the township, who shared it on the “run-rig” system, each +“rig” being worked by a different owner. + +The only pasture was the natural grass of meadow and hill, and this +also was common property. A “hill-dyke,” usually of turf, surrounded +the corn-land, and formed a somewhat indifferent protection against the +flocks of sheep, cattle, horses, and pigs which found their summer food +on the “hill.” The names “Slap” and “Grind,” borne by farmhouses in many +districts, remind us of the gateways in these old hill dykes. + +With the corn-land subdivided in this way, and the pasture-land +undivided, there was no inducement for any farmer to improve his methods +of agriculture. Farm implements were of the rudest kind. The soil was +scratched rather than tilled by means of wooden ploughs with only +one stilt or handle, a model of which may be seen in the museum in +Stromness. There were no carts; loads were carried pannier-fashion on the +backs of horses, along the rough tracks or bridle-paths which served for +roads. + +Of the old style of farmhouse scarcely a relic now remains. One entrance +usually served the farmer and his cattle, who lived under the same +roof, though in separate apartments. In the kitchen, or “but-end,” the +fireplace was simply a raised hearth in the centre of the room, with a +low wall or “back” against which the peat-fire was built. There was no +chimney, but a large opening in the roof allowed the smoke to escape in +a leisurely fashion. Behind the “back” there was often accommodation for +poultry, calves, and other domestic animals. The better class of houses +had beyond the kitchen a parlour, or “ben-end,” which was used only on +great occasions. + +Rough and primitive as was their manner of life, yet at the beginning of +last century the Orcadians had already made a very considerable advance +in prosperity. A writer of the time tells us that the small farmers had +more money among them than could be found among people of similar station +in any other part of the British Isles. + +It was not till the second quarter of the century that the land was +divided up into separate farms, and modern methods of agriculture began +to be employed, with rotation of crops and improved implements. A little +later the beginning was made of the system of roads which now spreads in +a network over the islands. + +While agriculture was yet in its infancy, the islands were much benefited +by various forms of industry and occupation which have now mostly fallen +into disuse, as the need for their help has passed away. One of these +industries, introduced towards the end of the eighteenth century, was the +spinning of flax and the weaving of linen. Flax was largely grown in the +islands at one time, and the dressing, spinning, and weaving of it was a +common occupation. + +About the beginning of the nineteenth century the manufacture of +straw-plait was introduced, and soon took the place of the linen +industry. It is said that over six thousand women and girls were at one +time employed in straw-plaiting. Though the workers were paid but little, +and that usually not in money but in goods, the straw-plaiting increased +considerably the wealth and the trade of the county. + +The manufacture of kelp was introduced early in the eighteenth century, +and gave occupation to many of the inhabitants. Large profits were made +in this business, not so much, of course, by the actual workers as by the +landlords and other agents who exported the kelp. At one time, indeed, +it seemed as if the attention given to this industry was to prove a +hindrance to the advance of agriculture, which is the only foundation of +true prosperity in these islands; and when other substances began to take +the place of kelp, the decline of this trade was really a benefit to the +islands. + +Fishing has always been an important industry in Orkney, but it was not +till near the middle of the nineteenth century that the improvements +in boats and in gear made the fisheries a really valuable asset to the +islanders. Fishing, however, cannot be called one of those temporary +industries which we mentioned. The herring fishery and the white +fishing, as well as other branches of this industry, have continued to +increase, and next to agriculture, fishing is the great natural source of +wealth for the people. + +During the centuries now under our notice, Orkney had a closer connection +with the seafaring life than it has to-day. When all trade was carried +on by sailing ships, and when westerly winds were quite as common as +they now are, vessels passing through the Pentland Firth for America or +elsewhere found Stromness a convenient port of call, and its harbour +was often crowded with shipping. This was especially the case during +the French wars of the eighteenth century, when the English Channel +was avoided by shipping as being too near the enemy’s shores. Fleets +of trading ships used to gather at Stromness while waiting a convoy of +men-of-war to accompany them across the Atlantic. + +An interesting relic of those busy times in Stromness is the old +Warehouse and Warehouse Pier at the north end of that town. This store +was built about the middle of the eighteenth century for the convenience +of the rice ships from America, as being the safest place for them to +discharge their cargoes. Before the end of the century, however, the +Stromness Warehouse was deserted in favour of Cowes in the Isle of Wight. +A writer of the time makes out a strong case in favour of Stromness and +against the English Channel, but the fact that Cowes is nearer to London +seems to have settled the matter in favour of that port. + +During these prolonged naval wars, it is said that as many as twelve +thousand Orkneymen served in the navy. Many of them went as volunteers, +but probably most of them served against their will, as the pressgang +was very active among the islands. Many a young sailor who began his +voyage on a peaceful trader was soon transferred to one of His Majesty’s +ships. Traditions of those troublous times are still preserved among many +families in the islands. Hundreds of these men were never heard of again, +for those were not the days of telegraphs and war correspondents. The +years passed, and the son or the brother did not return, but when or how +he fell his friends never knew. It was a heavy war-tax the islands paid; +the full extent of it has never been disclosed. + +About 1740 the ships of the Hudson’s Bay Company began to visit the +islands, not only to wait for a wind to start them on their annual +voyage, but to engage labourers and tradesmen to carry on the fur trade +among the Indians of the west and north of Canada. The connection thus +begun is not yet quite extinct, but in the earlier part of the nineteenth +century there was a constant stream of young men flowing to the Far West. +At one time from fifty to a hundred men left Stromness for Hudson Bay +every summer. Some remained as pioneers and colonists; some returned +after a sojourn of five years or more, with a tidy sum of money to start +them as farmers or tradesmen at home. Many of them who settled in the +Great Lone Land rose to high positions in the Company’s service. The most +famous of this band of empire-builders was Dr. John Rae, the discoverer +of the fate of the ill-starred Franklin Expedition, and a noted Arctic +explorer, whose monument may be seen in the nave of St. Magnus Cathedral. + +The Company then ruled over the greater portion of what is now the +Dominion of Canada. The names of Fort York, Moose Factory, and Red River +were as familiar to the Orkney boys of those days as Edinburgh, Glasgow, +and Aberdeen are to us to-day. But Canada changed even more than Orkney +during the latter part of the nineteenth century, and the great Hudson’s +Bay Company have now handed over their vast territories to the rule of +the Dominion. The fur trade still exists in the North-West, and there are +Orkneymen still in the employment of the Company; but the days have gone +by when this was one of the chief industries of the wander-loving sons of +our islands. + +After the “Nor’-Wast,” as the Hudson Bay service was called, the +“Straits” had the next claim on our youth. The Davis Strait whale-fishing +fleet made an annual visit to our islands to complete their crews. This +was in the spring or “vore,” when the crops were in the ground, and many +men, both young and middle-aged, looked to the annual whaling trip to +the north as a means of gain, just as their Norse ancestors did to the +annual “vore-viking” raid on the richer shores of the South. This also +has passed away; the harpoon and whale-lance are rarely seen in the +islands; whales and whaling fleet alike have almost become extinct. But +while agriculture was still in its infancy in Orkney, the “Straits” gave +much-needed employment and modest gains to many of our hardy forefathers. + +The general tendency of life in Orkney has been away from dependence +upon the sea for a living, and towards agriculture and the trade and +commerce which it brings with it. In its methods of farming and in its +general prosperity the county now compares well with any other part of +the kingdom. But most of this progress has been made during the last half +century or so. + +It was in 1833 that the Aberdeen, Leith, and Clyde Shipping Company, now +the North of Scotland and Orkney and Shetland Navigation Company, first +decided to send one of their steamers—the _Velocity_—to call at Kirkwall. +The call was made once a fortnight, and only during the months of June, +July, and August. The mails were then carried across the Pentland Firth +in a small boat. The growth in traffic since that time is indicated by +the fact that the trade and commerce of the islands now requires the +weekly call of two steamers at Kirkwall and three at Stromness, with a +daily mail steamer to both towns, in addition to numerous occasional +trips of other steamers and sailing vessels, especially during the +fishing season, while four smaller steamers maintain communication +between the various islands. + +The Orkney farmer still has a somewhat niggardly soil and a stormy +climate to contend with. His acres are few, and his boys will often turn +to richer lands to seek their fortune. But life in these islands to-day +is easy and comfortable compared with what it was during any of the ten +centuries whose history we have passed in brief review. + +The boys and girls who aim at seeking wealth and fame in other lands, +though by other means than those of their Viking ancestors, may now set +forth on their voyage as well equipped by education and otherwise as the +youth of any country in the world. Those who remain at home will still +find a worthy task in carrying on the improvement of the homeland, as +their fathers have done; for whatever stage of progress we may attain, it +is never merely an end but also a beginning. + +[Illustration: _Old-fashioned Fireplace_] + + + + +Part II.—The Isles and the Folk. + + + + +A SURVEY OF THE ISLANDS. + + +On Wideford Hill. + +There is no better view-point from which to make a general survey of the +Orcadian Archipelago than Wideford Hill. It is less than half the height +of the Ward Hill of Hoy, but it is at once more central and more easily +accessible. The Ward Hill of Orphir exceeds it in height by nearly one +hundred and fifty feet, and affords a much finer view to the westward; +but Wideford Hill is more isolated from other hills, and from its summit +we can obtain a better general outlook over the islands. + +Wideford Hill rises to a height of seven hundred and forty feet, and, +standing within two miles of Kirkwall, it may be easily approached either +from the main Stromness road over the Ayre, or from the old road above +the site of the Lammas market. If we choose the right kind of day, when a +cool northerly breeze gives us a horizon free from haze, and when thin +gray clouds veil the sun only at intervals, we shall see from Wideford a +panorama which surpasses in loveliness and in human interest that seen +from many a mountain top. + +The charm of Orkney scenery lies in its colour rather than its form, +in its luminous distances rather than its immediate foreground, in its +restfulness rather than its grandeur. The landscape does not overwhelm +the beholder with a sense of his puny insignificance, as great mountains +are apt to do; it wins his love by suggestions of peace and of home. + +But let us look around and note what we see. Far to the southward lies +the silvery streak of the Pentland Firth, very innocent now in its summer +calm. Beyond it stretch the low shores of Caithness; and in the blue +distance we see Morven and the mountains of Sutherland, the “southern +land” of the Norsemen. Nearer is the green expanse of South Ronaldsay, +much foreshortened to the view, with the lighthouse towers of the +Pentland Skerries showing beyond, and the island of Burray at its nearer +end. To the right, over Scapa Flow, rises the long brown ridge of Hoy, +separated by streaks of shimmering sea from Flotta, Fara, Cava, and its +other neighbours. Very stern and solemn look its heath-clad heights as +the passing shadows fall across them. + +The whole of the East Mainland lies at our feet—Deerness, bright and +sunny, with the Moul Head stretching boldly out to sea; nearer is St. +Andrews, and Holm, half hidden by the ridge of high ground in the north +of that parish; and, nearer still, St. Ola, deeply cut into by the Bays +of Kirkwall and Scapa, which look as if they only awaited the next spring +tide to join hands across the narrow isthmus, the Peerie Sea lying ready +to do its part. + +[Illustration: _Round about Kirkwall._] + +Kirkwall, the “Kirk Voe” of the Norsemen, is more worthy of its name +to-day than when the little church of St. Olaf was the chief object in +the landscape. Approach it how we may, the great Cathedral of St. Magnus +arrests our attention. Seen from Wideford Hill the tower does not break +the skyline, as it does from the sea; yet the mass of sombre reddish +masonry asserts itself, and dominates the pearl-gray cluster of walls and +roofs that spreads around, as it has done for nearly eight hundred years. + +“Tame” and “uninteresting” are the words often used to describe the +appearance of our island capital. It does not seem so to-day. As the +eye sweeps down over the purple shoulder of the hill to the green +fields below, and passes over the silver gleam of the water with broken +reflections of tower and gable beyond, it rests upon a picture filled +with many charms of line, mass, and colour, from which the deep cool +green of tree and shrub is not wholly wanting. Open to the north and +the south by the “Viking path” of the sea, and joined to the east and +the west by more modern paths, the thin white lines of curving roadway, +Kirkwall shows itself the natural focus of our island commerce and social +life, and the centre of a wide and fair landscape. + +Northward and westward next we turn our view. Kirkwall Bay opens out into +the “Wide Fiord,” which doubtless gave our hill its name, and westward +into the “Aurrida Fiord,” or Sea-trout Firth, which first gave its name +to the parish of Firth, and then received in exchange its present name, +the Bay of Firth. Its shores are low and well cultivated, but to the +north rises the dark brown ridge formed by the hills of Firth and of +Rendall, which hide from our view most of the parish of Evie and parts of +Harray and Birsay. + +To the left of this ridge, through the central valley of Firth and +Stenness, a charming vista opens out. A rich and fertile sweep of low +ground forms the basin of the great lochs, and on the long peninsula +between them we can distinguish the Standing Stones rising as needle +points against the blue expanse of the Loch of Stenness. The green mound +of Maeshowe, too, is clearly visible. Far away, over the cultivated +slopes of Sandwick, we see the soft shimmer of the Atlantic, and to the +northward the undulating skyline of the Birsay Hills. + +Due west from where we stand the view is shut in by the long ridge of the +Keelylang Hills and the bold outline of the Ward Hill of Orphir, and the +fairest part of the West Mainland, Stromness, with its bays and islets, +is beyond our ken. To enjoy a view of these we must take our stand upon +the Ward Hill itself, but this will come into the programme of another +day. + +Of the island-studded sea to the north and east we have not yet spoken. +We can hardly disentangle the maze of sounds and bays, of holms and +promontories, except by the aid of a map, and if we are wise we shall +have one in our pocket. With this before us the maze becomes clear. The +bold hills of Rousay stand clear of the Mainland to the north, with +the lower islands of Gairsay, Wyre or Veira, and Egilsay near at hand. +Westray is all but hidden, but the blue ridge of Eday stands boldly +forth, shutting out from view the greater portion of Sanday and North +Ronaldsay. The tall lighthouse pillar on the Start, however, is clearly +seen. + +Close to Kirkwall Bay, and protecting it from the eastern sea, lies the +fertile island of Shapinsay, with Balfour Castle standing in clear view +among its gardens. Beyond we see the bold outline of Stronsay, and to the +south of it Auskerry and its lighthouse. + +Now we let our eye rest on the horizon, a sharp and clear line where we +can trace the smoke of trawlers and other craft which are themselves +hidden by the great curve of the ocean plain. There, right over Balfour +Castle, something catches our eye. It might be the smoke of a passing +steamer, but it does not change its form as we look; it stands clear and +sharp, a tiny blue pyramid showing over the horizon. There is only one +thing it can be—the Fair Isle, distant some sixty miles from where we +stand! Only on rare occasions is this lonely sea-girt rock so free from +cloud and mist that its top is thus to be distinguished. Yet if we know +where to look for it, we may occasionally see it as we do to-day; and it +is useful to remember that from Wideford Hill its bearing is directly +over Balfour Castle. + + +Among the North Isles. + +A glance at the map of Orkney will show that most of the important +islands lie north of the Mainland. The term “North Isles,” however, is +generally used to mean only the more distant of these—Stronsay, Eday, +Sanday, North Ronaldsay, and Westray, with the smaller islands adjacent +to them. These can be visited by steamer from Kirkwall in one day, with +the exception of North Ronaldsay; and at the same time a good view can +be obtained of the nearer islands—Shapinsay and Rousay, with the smaller +group of Egilsay, Wyre, and Gairsay. North Ronaldsay may also be seen on +the far north-eastern horizon. + +Leaving Kirkwall pier in the early morning, we sail northwards out of the +bay, when the String opens on our right, and Shapinsay is close at hand. +There, sheltered by Helliar Holm, we notice the bay of Ellwick, where, +in 1263, King Haco moored his hundred ships when on that ill-starred +expedition which ended at Largs. West of the bay stands Balfour Castle, +the finest specimen of modern domestic architecture in the islands, +surrounded by its noted gardens. + +The sea to the west of Shapinsay is dotted with shoals and skerries; +but as we pass Gairsay on the left and sail round Galt Ness, the +north-western point of Shapinsay, we find open water before us, and steer +north-east towards Eday, passing the Green Holms on our way. + +Eday, the first island at which we call, is hilly and heath-clad, with +abundance of peat. Ever since the days of Torf Einar, no doubt, it has +yielded a supply of peat for such unprovided islands as Sanday, up to +modern times when coal has come into more general use. Even yet the peat +industry is considerable, and Eday peats have been recently seen in use +for drying malt in a distillery near Edinburgh. The most interesting part +of Eday, however, is the north end of the island, where our steamer will +call later in the day. + +[Illustration: ORKNEY ISLANDS] + +From Eday we cross to Stronsay, keeping to the north of that island, +and then turning southwards to the village of Whitehall in Papa Sound, +protected on the north-east by the small island of Papa Stronsay. This +sheltered roadstead so near the open eastern sea has long been an +important centre of the herring fishery. About the middle of last century +as many as four hundred Orkney boats and many from the Scottish mainland +found anchorage in Papa Sound. In modern times Stronsay has again risen +in importance as a fishing station. + +Stronsay is one of the best agricultural districts in Orkney, and is +noted for the size and the excellence of its farms. Near Lamb Head, in +the extreme south-east of Stronsay, are the remains of a very extensive +pier, erected before the time of the Norsemen. + +Leaving Whitehall pier, we next sail due north across Sanday Sound to +Kettletoft Bay in Sanday. This bay and that of Otterswick in the north +afford safe anchorage; but the low, flat island, with its numerous +projecting points and skerries, presents many dangers to navigation. As +early as 1529 a lighthouse was erected on the extreme eastern point of +the island, and was called the Star, from which, it is said, the headland +derived its name, Start Point. Long after that time, however, the island +was noted for the number of shipwrecks which occurred on its shores. + +Sanday is emphatically the “Sand Island.” Its soil is sandy and generally +fertile, and its surface is low and flat. Only in the south-west is there +any rising ground, where the highest point in the island reaches a height +of a little over two hundred feet. + +[Illustration: _Orkney Villages.—I._ + +1. St. Margaret’s Hope, South Ronaldsay. 2. Pierowall, Westray. 3. +Whitehall, Stronsay. 4. Finstown, Firth.] + +From Kettletoft pier our course is now south-west, until we double Spur +Ness, the most southerly point of Sanday; then turning northwards, we +make for Calf Sound, at the north end of Eday. This sheltered channel, +between Eday and the Calf of Eday, is memorable as the scene of the +capture of the pirate Gow in 1725. + +Gow, or Smith, was a native of Stromness, where “Gow’s Garden,” a name +given to a patch of ground on the east side of the harbour, afterwards +occupied by a shipbuilding yard, seems to mark the site of his father’s +house. The name Gow, however, which is the Gaelic equivalent of Smith, +indicates a Scottish rather than an Orcadian descent. In 1724 Gow was +sailing as second mate on board the _George_, an English vessel of two +hundred tons, mounting eighteen guns, and trading on the Barbary coast. +He and several others of the crew mutinied, murdered the captain, and +started on what proved to be a very brief career of piracy. + +After a few months’ cruising, Gow carried his ship, now named the +_Revenge_, into Stromness to refit; but as he soon made the place too hot +for safety, he put to sea in February 1725. Having sailed north round +Westray, he turned south towards Eday, and in beating through Calf Sound +ran his ship aground on the Calf, opposite Carrick House, then occupied +by Mr. James Fea of Clestran. To him Gow applied for help to get his ship +off the rocks; but the opportunity was too good to be missed, and Fea by +various stratagems succeeded in making prisoners of Gow and his crew. +They were handed over to the authorities, and afterwards suffered the +penalty of their crimes in London. + +Nearly a century later, in 1814, Sir Walter Scott made his memorable +visit to Orkney and Shetland, and the legends which he collected +regarding Gow formed a centre round which he wove his well-known story, +“The Pirate.” + +[Illustration: _Noltland Castle._] + +Carrick was at one time the site of a thriving manufacture of salt, but +that too is now a tale of the past. + +On leaving Carrick our steamer passes out of Calf Sound between the Red +Head on the west and the Grey Head on the east, so named from the colour +of their sandstone cliffs. The stone of the former has been much in +favour for building purposes, as St. Magnus Cathedral can testify, and +has on occasion found its way as far south as London. + +A north-westerly course now brings us to Pierowall in Westray, our last +port of call. The long, low island guarding it on the north-east, fertile +and well cultivated, is Papa Westray. Towards its south end is a small +lake, on a holm in which are the ruins of a chapel dedicated to St. +Tredwall, a place of great sanctity in former days, and a special shrine +for such pilgrims as suffered from sore eyes. Long after the Reformation, +indeed, we are told that the minister of the island had much difficulty +in preventing his flock from resorting thither to pay their devotions to +the saint before assembling in the church. + +[Illustration: _Noup Head Lighthouse._] + +The chief point of interest in Westray is Noltland Castle, now roofless +indeed, but scarcely yet a ruin. It was built early in the fifteenth +century by Bishop Tulloch, and afterwards passed into the hands of +Sir Gilbert Balfour, Master of the Household to Mary Queen of Scots. +After the escape of the unfortunate queen from Lochleven Castle, he was +ordered to prepare Noltland for her reception. Had the ill-fated Mary +turned northwards instead of southwards when the day went against her +at Langside, and had she sought shelter among these northern islands +instead of trusting to the tender mercies of her cousin and rival, Queen +Elizabeth, what a romantic chapter might have been added to the history +of Orkney! + +[Illustration: _North Ronaldsay Lighthouse._] + +Westray contains much good arable land, and supports a large population. +On the west side the scenery is bold and romantic; and from Fitty Hill, +which is over five hundred and fifty feet in height, the view extends +to Foula in Shetland and the Fair Isle. The cliffs facing the Atlantic +are lofty and picturesque. About a mile south of Noup Head, the western +extremity of the island, is the Gentlemen’s Cave, where five Orcadian +adherents of “Prince Charlie” are said to have found shelter for several +months after the “’Forty-five.” + +From Fitty Hill we may obtain a distant view of North Ronaldsay, the +most northerly and perhaps the most verdant island of the group. +Separated from its nearest neighbour, Sanday, by the wild and stormy +North Ronaldsay Firth, the crossing of which in the usual open boat is +often dangerous, even when possible, this island impresses the visitor as +being very much cut off from the world. But in such matters all depends +upon comparison, and doubtless there are many who regard the whole of our +islands as similarly remote and inaccessible. + +A stone dyke surrounds the island of North Ronaldsay, outside which a +number of native sheep pick up a living on the “banks” and even in the +“ebb.” On the most northerly point, near Dennis Head, stands one of the +finest of our lighthouses; for North Ronaldsay, like Sanday, has been the +scene of many a shipwreck. + +Our return from Westray to Kirkwall is made direct, and we now keep to +the west of Eday, passing Faray and its Holm, and having the heath-clad +hills of Rousay clear in view to the westward. Rousay far surpasses the +other islands of the northern group in its hill and cliff scenery, its +highest elevation reaching eight hundred and twenty feet, and its western +shore presenting many romantic effects in stack and cave. Among its other +attractive features are the Loch of Wasbister, in the north; the Burn of +Westness and Westness House, overlooking the sacred isle of Eynhallow +and the tumultuous Roost of Burgar; and the modern mansion of Trumbland, +looking out on the calm sound and the green island of Veira or Wyre. + +Nearer our course, however, lies the long, low stretch of Egilsay, the +“Church Island” of the Norsemen, where the saintly Earl Magnus was done +to death. The present ruined church, with its far-seen round tower, +though of later date, doubtless occupies the site of that earlier church +which was the scene of his murder. + +Wyre, too, soon opens out to view, with its ruined chapel, and the mound +which marks the traditional site of “Cubbie Roo’s Castle,” the home of +the once formidable Kolbein Hruga, whose name is even yet used to terrify +into good behaviour some obstreperous youngster, in the awful threat, +“Cubbie Roo’ll get thee!” + +[Illustration: _Westness, Eynhallow, and Costa Head._] + +Gairsay, with its rounded hill over three hundred feet high, next claims +our attention, and the name of Sweyn Holm, lying off its eastern shore, +recalls to us Sweyn Asleifson and the great drinking-hall which he built +on the island when he made it his winter home: the summer home of the +stout old Viking was on board his long-ship. But now the tower of St. +Magnus rising ahead reminds us that our day’s sail is at an end, and we +are shortly alongside Kirkwall pier once more. + + +Among the South Isles. + +For a visit to the South Isles of Orkney, Stromness is our best +starting-point. It is the natural centre of communication for this +group—or rather for the western division of the group, for South +Ronaldsay and Burray may be visited equally well from Kirkwall by way of +Scapa Bay. The small steamer which makes the regular round of the islands +will serve us for the beginning of our tour, but we must soon branch off +from the ordinary route if we are to see much of interest. + +[Illustration: _Stromness Harbour._] + +The green island of Graemsay, with its beach of gleaming white sand, +looks very attractive as we sail out of Stromness harbour. Its chief +attraction to visitors is the lofty tower of the East Lighthouse, which +serves, along with the lower West Lighthouse, to guide ships through the +swift tideway of Hoy Sound. The official name, indeed, for these lights +is not Graemsay, but Hoy. + +[Illustration: _Graemsay East Lighthouse._] + +Graemsay is separated from Hoy by Burra Sound, and here we shall leave +our steamer, landing at Linksness, the best starting-point for the long +walk and climb which we have before us. Hoy is next to the Mainland in +size, but little of its surface is cultivated, and roads are few and far +between. So we strike westward, and, leaving cultivation behind, make +for the Meadow of the Kame, keeping the Ward Hill and its neighbour the +Cuilags on our left. There is a famous echo here, which we may stop to +test before beginning the climb to the Kame itself—a long ridge some +twelve hundred feet high, which runs from the Cuilags to the sheer +precipice on the north. + +The coast-line we now reach is one of the loftiest in the British Isles, +rising at St. John’s Head to a perpendicular height of 1,140 feet. With +due care we may approach the edge and look down this fearful and giddy +height, but it is not a place for foolhardy daring. The view of this +stupendous cliff, with the white surges breaking a thousand feet below +in a slow and strangely noiseless movement, and the seagulls flitting +like midges in their mazy dance midway between us and the blue water, is +something which cannot be described and cannot be forgotten. + +Beyond St. John’s Head the ground falls to half the height or less, +and a couple of miles brings us to the far-famed Old Man of Hoy. This +wonderful pillar stands well out from the cliff, on a ledge of rock which +connects with the land near sea-level. The height of the pillar is four +hundred and fifty feet; that of the cliff on which we stand is about +fifty feet less. Tradition tells us that the Old Man of Hoy has suffered +considerably from the battering of wind and wave even within recent +times. It is said that he formerly stood on two legs, but that many years +ago part of the divided base fell before the Atlantic breakers, and +left him standing on one leg, as we now see him. Doubtless time and the +weather will one day lay him low, but in the meantime he looks fairly +solid and durable. + +Another mile or more and we reach Rora Head, the most westerly point of +Orkney, and turn southeastward towards Rackwick Bay, and now one of the +finest views in all the islands meets our gaze. Beyond the deep glen +at our feet stretches the great western sea-wall, gleaming red in the +sunshine. In the bay below us the rollers are breaking in ceaseless foam +over a strip of shining sand and gravel. The little township of Rackwick +is a patchwork of green and gold, contrasting strangely with the dark +glen and the towering hills behind. + +[Illustration: _The Old Man of Hoy._] + +The glen itself, we find as we make the descent into it, is a bit of true +highland scenery—the only bit, indeed, which Orkney has to show. Its +rugged, lonely grandeur is unique in these islands. Heather and bracken, +wild rose and honeysuckle, juniper, dwarf birch, and willow mingle in +such luxuriance as to suggest a more favoured latitude. The glen of +Berriedale, which opens out of the main valley to the west, is sometimes +called the “Garden of Orkney,” but it is a garden of nature’s own. + +Hoy is for the most part of a sterner aspect, as we shall quickly find +if we cross the valley and dare to attack the Ward Hill. The only risk +we shall run in doing so will be that of stiff limbs for several days +to come, unless, indeed, a sudden descent of cloud or mist should find +us unprovided with a guide who knows the “lay of the land.” The sturdy +luxuriance of the heather is likely to be our chief difficulty in the +climb. + +Standing at last on the summit of the Ward Hill, we find ourselves at +a height of 1,564 feet above the sea, on a somewhat bare and stony +plateau, and not far from the highest point there is, curiously enough, +an excellent spring of water. A very clear day is necessary if we are +to enjoy the sight of all that this elevation commands. We shall then +see the whole archipelago spread out before us as on a map—a marvellous +panorama of sea and land. Even the Fair Isle shows its conical head above +the north-eastern horizon. The north coast of Scotland stretches out +westward to Cape Wrath, and in the blue distance to the southwards many +a peak of the Northern Highlands can be distinguished. + +If we descend the hill on its southern slope, we shall find a short +though a steep way to the next point of interest in Hoy—the Dwarfie +Stone. The description of this curious relic of the industry of some +unknown workman has been well given by Hugh Miller, whose name may still +be read carved on its bare interior, while the legendary interest may +best be gathered from Sir Walter Scott in his notes to “The Pirate.” + +South of the valley in which the Dwarfie Stone lies, the ground rises +to a long stretch of moorland, broken only by burns and lochs, till it +dips down to the fringe of low, cultivated ground round Longhope, in the +parish of Walls. This part of the island, however, is too distant to be +included in our day’s excursion, and may be visited direct by steamer +from Stromness some other day. + +Longhope, as we shall then see, is a sheltered bay nearly four miles long +and about one mile in average width, and forms a magnificent natural +harbour. Before the days of steam as many as a hundred and fifty vessels +might be seen at anchor here, sheltered from the westerly gales which +barred their passage through the Pentland Firth. The martello towers on +either side of the entrance remind us of a time when storms were not +the only danger to our shipping. Protection of a kind more necessary +to-day is afforded by the strong revolving light on Cantick Head, and on +occasion by the Longhope lifeboat, the heroism of whose hardy crew has +often shown itself in deeds of noble daring such as no sea-roving Viking +of the ancient days could have surpassed. + +At the western extremity of Longhope stands the mansion house of +Melsetter, with its extensive gardens. On the farther side of the bay is +South Walls, a peninsula which is literally “almost an island,” as the +waters of Aith Hope almost meet those of Longhope across a narrow “aith” +or isthmus. + +Opposite the entrance to Longhope, whence we start on our return journey +to Stromness, we pass the island of Flotta, the “flat island” of the +Norsemen, thriving and well cultivated, especially towards the east, +where it curves round Pan Hope. To the south of it lies the green +island of Switha, to the north-east the tiny Calf of Flotta, and to the +north-west, off Mill Bay, the island of Faray. Farther north, and close +to the shore of Hoy, lies Risa, or Risa Little, a favourite nesting-place +of many of our sea-birds. The last island we notice on our homeward sail +is Cava, a couple of miles eastward of which we see the beacon which +marks a skerry known as the Barrel of Butter. + +The eastern group of the South Isles is more closely connected with the +East Mainland, being divided from Holm by Holm Sound, where lie the two +green islets of Lamb Holm and Glims Holm. Immediately to the south is +Burray, the _Borgarey_ of the Norsemen, so called, doubtless, from the +two brochs or _borgs_ whose ruins still exist in the north of the island. +To the west of Burray lies the peat-covered islet of Hunda. + +South of Burray, across the narrow channel of Water Sound, lies the large +and populous island of South Ronaldsay. At the head of the little bay +of the same name stands the neat and thriving village—almost a town—of +St. Margaret’s Hope, pleasantly situated among its fertile gardens and +fields, and with a substantial pier to accommodate its increasing traffic. + +Westward from “The Hope” lies Hoxa, a peninsula cut off by Widewall Bay +on the south. On the narrow isthmus or “aith” stands a green mound, the +“haug,” or howe, from which the name of _Haugseith_ or Hoxa is derived. +On the shores of Widewall Bay at low water we may see the submerged +peat-moss and decaying remains of large trees which mark a bygone stage +in the climate of the islands, and likewise tell of gradual subsidence of +the land. + +From south to north, South Ronaldsay measures about seven miles. The +surface is well cultivated, and the highest point, the Ward Hill, is +only some three hundred and sixty feet high. The bay of Burwick, in the +south-west corner of the island, was formerly the landing-place for +the south mails, which were carried across the Pentland Firth in an +open boat. Some of the rock scenery in the southern part is very fine, +especially “The Gloup,” near Halcro Head, an open pit near the shore into +which the sea enters by a subterranean channel. + +To the south-west we see the lonely, storm-swept island of Swona with its +half-dozen or so of houses, and to the south rise the twin lighthouse +towers on the Pentland Skerries, only one of which is now used as a +light. Here we reach the southern extremity of the county, some forty +miles in a straight line from North Ronaldsay, the extreme northern point. + + + + +ROUND THE MAINLAND. + + +First Day. + +The best way to see the Mainland, and the only way to appreciate its +extent and the variety of its scenery, is to make use of the excellent +roads by which it is now traversed and encircled. On this tour the +bicycle will be our best conveyance; and if we can secure the company +of a congenial friend, we may spend a few days very pleasantly and +profitably on a ride round the Mainland. + +We shall begin with the East Mainland. Leaving Kirkwall by the Deerness +road, we shortly afterwards find ourselves skimming down the long brae +of Wideford—not Wideford Hill, but the farm of Wideford, about two miles +south-east of the town. On our left is the wide expanse of Inganess Bay, +with its beach of sand and shingle, where we can recall seeing on one +memorable occasion a school of whales stranded after a great whale hunt: +that was in our early school days, now rapidly becoming a part of the +time known as “long ago.” + +[Illustration: _Orkney Villages.—II._ + +1. St. Mary’s, Holm. 2. Orphir. 3. Kettletoft, Sanday. 4. Finstown. 5. +Balfour Village, Shapinsay. 6. Evie.] + +We next pass the long, low peninsula of Tankerness, which lies between +Inganess Bay and Deer Sound. On its south side, between the loch and the +shore, stands the Hall of Tankerness, its position marked out by one of +those rare patches of dark green which indicate that trees may still be +made to grow in Orkney under intelligent fostering care. The cliffs near +Rerwick Head are worth a visit. There are several caves, one of which, +tradition affirms, gave refuge for weeks to one of the Covenanters who +were shipwrecked at Deerness in 1679. + +After passing through the parish of St. Andrews, we reach that of +Deerness. Deerness is literally a peninsula—very nearly an island indeed. +The isthmus which joins it to the Mainland is not only narrow but low and +sandy, and in former days mariners approaching from the south sometimes +overlooked its existence when making for shelter, and came to grief +accordingly. On this narrow neck of land is found an ancient mound or +_haug_, which bears the name of Dingishowe. + +Deerness is on the whole flat, the highest point in the peninsula, the +Ward, being only 285 feet above the sea. Yet the view from the road, +which crosses the centre of the parish, is very extensive. To the south +we notice the island of Copinsay, formerly much frequented for gathering +sea-birds’ eggs, and its “Horse,” a steep black rock rising high out of +the water. + +If time permits, it will be worth our while to cycle to Sandside, and +thence walk along the cliffs to the Moul Head. The scenery here is fine, +and we shall find the Broch, with its ancient ruined chapel, specially +interesting. A church existed here before the Norse period, and was +doubtless the cause of the name _Deir-ness_, or the ness of the Culdee +priests, being given to the district. Not far distant we see another +object which recalls priestly memories—a gray stone pillar erected to +commemorate the shipwreck by which two hundred Covenanters lost their +lives when on their way to be sold as slaves in the American Colonies or +“Plantations.” + +The story is a dark and tragic one. There is some reason to believe that +the shipwreck was not entirely an accident; it is said that the ship was +not even provisioned for so long a voyage, and that the fate designed for +the unhappy prisoners was not slavery but death by shipwreck whenever +circumstances favourable for such an “accident” should arise. + +On returning to the St. Andrews road we may strike off towards the south +and make our way homewards through the parish of Holm. The most fertile +part of this parish lies in a broad valley sloping towards the south, +where the crops ripen early. As we descend into this valley, the mellow +light of an autumn afternoon reveals to us a view of rare sweetness and +charm. + +Amid the river-like tidal stream of Holm Sound lie the green islets of +Glims Holm and Lamb Holm or Laman, with Burray and the darker Hunda, and +the imposing stretch of South Ronaldsay beyond. To the westward, Hoy +rises in deep-blue shadow, reflected in the still surface of Scapa Flow. +Over the gleam of the Pentland Firth we see the flat shores of Caithness, +while the more distant peaks of the Sutherland mountains rise sharp and +clear above the horizon. + +But there are a few miles of road yet to cover, so we hold on our way +towards the seashore, where the steep-gabled mansion of Graemeshall +stands beside its pretty reed-fringed loch. A mile beyond lies the +village of St. Mary’s, with its pier and its line of cottages stretching +along the beach; and after taking a passing glance at this well-known +fishing-station, we turn our faces northwards. We have a long hilly ride +in front of us here, and by the time we reach the end of it our interest +in the charming views is not so keen as it was. Then comes the welcome +change of gradient; we spin down the “Distillery Brae,” and soon our +circuit of the East Mainland is completed. + + +Second Day. + +Our second day’s circuit will take us round the central part of the +Mainland, which is divided from the East Mainland by the isthmus of +Scapa, and from the larger mass of the West Mainland by the lochs of +Stenness and Harray and the wide isthmus between the latter and the Bay +of Firth. + +We leave Kirkwall by the “Head of the Town” and keep to the old Scapa +road for about a mile, when we turn sharp to the right and soon begin the +long ascent of nearly three hundred feet to Greenigo. This is followed by +a corresponding dip down to the valley of Kirbuster, whose loch lies on +our right; but as fishing is not our programme at present we keep to the +road as it ascends once more, and soon find ourselves entering upon the +broad fertile slope which forms the most thickly inhabited part of the +parish of Orphir. + +Westward we see the road stretching across this well-cultivated district, +dotted with houses large and small, which gather here and there in groups +and clusters almost ranking as villages. Time does not press, and we are +out for the purpose of seeing all we can, so we decide to leave the main +road here and take a by-road to the right which skirts the east side of +the Ward Hill. It is fairly steep, and the riding cannot be called good, +but it has the advantage of bringing us within a mile of the Ward Hill +itself, the top of which we shall find a pleasant halting-place. + +[Illustration: _Orphir._] + +Leaving our bicycles by the roadside, we face a pretty stiff climb +through luxuriant heather and bracken, and soon find ourselves on the +highest of a group of hilltops, 880 feet above the sea. If we are +favoured with a clear atmosphere, the scene before us will amply repay +the labour of our ascent. + +The view from the Ward Hill is supplementary to that from Wideford Hill. +Parts of the landscape to the east and north are shut out by Wideford +Hill itself, by the long Keelylang ridge, and by the broad-backed mass +between Harray and Evie. To the south the scene is somewhat similar to +that seen from Wideford Hill; to the westward, however, the panorama now +before us is unique. + +Ireland, or _Ayre-land_, as it once was, sloping gently downwards to +its bay, lies at our feet, a patchwork of farms and fields in varying +tints of green and yellow and brown. Beyond it, the picturesque “western +capital,” Stromness, fringes its landlocked harbour, secure in the +shelter of the protecting hills behind. To the left lies Graemsay with +its lighthouses, an “emerald set in a sapphire sea,” and beyond it the +frowning cliffs and the purple ridge of Hoy dominate the scene. + +Away towards the west the horizon line, more than thirty miles distant as +we now see it, cuts sharp and straight against the soft blue sky. If we +have a good glass, we may make out on this line, just above the town of +Stromness, the Stack of Suleskerry. + +[Illustration: _Stromness from the east._] + +But our day’s ride is yet mostly before us, so we descend from the Ward +or “watch-tower,” mount our bicycles, regain the main road, and continue +our way through the smiling landscape which lies in front of us. Orphir +was an important district in the old Norse days, and a residence of the +Orkney Earls stood on the seashore near the parish church; and adjoining +that church may still be seen part of a much earlier church, one of the +few circular temples in this country which were built in the time of the +Crusades on the model of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. +In the little cove sheltered by the Head and the Holm of Houton, some of +King Hakon’s ships found shelter during the winter after the battle of +Largs, while the king himself lay dying in the ancient palace at Kirkwall. + +[Illustration: _Ruins of circular church, Orphir._] + +After a particularly stiff ride over Scorriedale, we enter upon a long +and somewhat uninteresting stretch of road through Clestran and Ireland, +and at last reach the main road from Kirkwall to Stromness, close to the +Bridge of Waith, which crosses the narrow strait between the Loch of +Stenness and the sea. We can see just above this bridge the traces of +a still older one, and the name Waith probably indicates that this was +originally a “wading-place” or ford at low tide. + +But we are not to cross the bridge to-day; we turn back towards Kirkwall +to complete our tour of the Central Mainland. The road runs along the +side of the loch, through the pretty district of Clouston, and past the +comfortable hotel which has been erected there for the convenience of +such summer visitors as are attracted by the trout-fishing of the loch. +The largest trout ever seen was caught in the Loch of Stenness, and if +the proverb is true that “there are as good fish in the sea as ever came +out of it,” the same may yet be proved true of this loch. + +We halt only long enough to obtain a welcome cup of tea, and then +continue our ride. Less than a mile brings us to the road which leads +over the Bridge of Brogar to the Standing Stones, and we decide on making +a brief pilgrimage to this the most ancient shrine in the islands—if, +indeed, it was a shrine. But as the afternoon is wearing towards evening, +and we have been here several times before, we merely sit down on the +short heather beside the circle long enough to let the mystery and +“eeriness” of the scene sink into our minds and set us wondering silently +what it all meant in the far-off days when it was new. + +We need not wait here in the hope of finding out, so we ride back past +the tall “sentinel” stone and the smaller circle of Stenness to the main +road. Another mile brings us abreast of Maeshowe, and with the spirit +of the past upon us we stop once more. We obtain the key of this famous +chambered mound from the farmhouse opposite, in order that we may spend a +few minutes more in “wondering.” + +There is nothing about Maeshowe, or even about the Standing Stones, to +attract the superficial mind, but to those who “wonder,” and who can +see things which vanished from outward view many centuries ago, those +places are almost holy ground. They embody and embalm some of the deepest +thoughts of a long-vanished people; and though we can hardly guess what +these thoughts were, the monuments are sacred relics to us. They are +milestones, we may say, marking early stages in the long advance of our +race. + +[Illustration: _The Sentinel Stone, Stenness._] + +After leaving Maeshowe we face an incline just heavy enough to recall our +thoughts to the present, and soon we are passing through the pretty glen +which opens on the Bay of Firth. The patches of shrubbery and trees round +Binscarth on our left give a pleasing variety to the scenery, and show us +once more the possibilities and the limitations of our islands as regards +the cultivation of woods. + +The village of Finstown, the half-way house between Kirkwall and +Stromness, has a beautiful situation, which can be better appreciated +from the hillside above it than from the road, and it is well placed for +attracting a share of the ordinary business of the districts around. It +has a prosperous look, and its name reminds us that it claims to be more +than a mere village. + +[Illustration: _Maeshowe._] + +Before us on our left lies the wide, shallow Bay of Firth, or “The +Firth,” as it might more correctly be called, which gives its name to the +surrounding district. To the Norsemen it was the “Sea-trout Firth,” and +must have been important for its fishing. In more recent times it had +a famous oyster-fishery; but that too has become a thing of the past, +though by the exercise of a little foresight and public spirit it could +easily be restored. + +In the bay lie the Holm of Grimbister and the island of Damsay, or “St. +Adamnan’s Isle.” The latter, as its name indicates, was the site of a +Culdee monastery, and is mentioned in the later Saga story. Damsay has +also its share of the legendary tales which are connected with many of +the old ecclesiastical centres in the island. + +On our right the old Kirkwall road branches off, passing over the +southern shoulder of Wideford Hill; and beside it, on a rising ground, +we see the manse of Firth, the home of the soldier-poet Malcolm, whose +father was minister of the parish. Soon our road bears to the left to +avoid the steep, dark mass of Wideford Hill; we cross the broad stretch +of Quanterness, and a bend to the right brings us once more in view of +Kirkwall, lying beyond the Peerie Sea, whose still waters mirror the dark +mass of St. Magnus, now gleaming with a dusky red in the glow of sunset. + + +Third Day. + +Our third day’s tour is of a different character; we are to make our +way through Rendall and Evie to Birsay. As we shall spend the night +there, our bicycles must be loaded with a few necessary articles; but +old campaigners always march light, and our baggage is reduced to its +absolute minimum. + +The first stage of our journey takes us to Finstown, along the main +Stromness road which we traversed yesterday. Then we turn sharp to +the right, and cross the bridge over the mouth of the “Oyce,” which +reminds us of the Peerie Sea and its Ayre. The district in front of us, +the “North Side” of Firth, consists of a broad slope, almost a plain, +fringing the bay, and the steep escarpment of a long range of hills on +our left. Most of this range is 500 feet in height, and parts exceed 700 +feet. + +There is a certain monotony about the road, due to its straightness; but +there is really no reason why it should turn either to the right hand or +to the left, so we pedal away, mile after mile. When opposite the Bay of +Isbister we pass a very pleasing valley, that of Settascarth, through +which a road crosses the long ridge into the parish of Harray. Then we +reach the parish of Rendall, and find a long ascent in front of us, +as the road runs straight up the “dale” whence the name of the parish +arises. We pass between the high, steep ridge on the left and a group +of hills on the right which lie between us and the sea, forming a broad +peninsula between the Bay of Isbister and Woodwick. + +When we reach the summit of this rise, we are quite ready to halt for a +while and enjoy the new panorama which opens out to the northward. The +inner group of the North Isles—Rousay, Egilsay, Wyre, and Gairsay—lie at +our feet, as it seems; and the more distant members of the group can be +easily made out. Rousay is the dominant feature in the landscape, and its +steep brown hills, descending in step-like “hammars,” make an impressive +background to the green fringe of farmland and the liquid blue of the sea. + +As we resume our way along an undulating road, we pass through a district +which, despite its northerly exposure, seems able to support a large +population, and numerous tidy cottages cluster here and there along the +roadside. By-and-by the cultivated strip becomes narrower, the sandy +beach of Aikerness gives place to the rocky shores of Burgar, and the +road turns inland with a steep incline to dip down on the other side of +the ridge towards the Loch of Swannay. + +Here we shall find it well worth our while to make a somewhat longer halt +than before, and, leaving our bicycles, we turn to climb Costa Hill, and +to view the wild cliffs at Costa Head. From the hill we look down upon +the mysterious green islet of Eynhallow, the “Holy Island,” where the +ruins of an ancient monastery have been traced, and round which more than +the usual crop of legends has sprung up. A fair contrast it offers to the +bold, rocky cliffs of Rousay just beyond. + +If it happens to be the time of spring tides, and the ebb is running +out, we shall see at this place one of the most impressive sights which +our coasts present. However calm be the sea, as soon as the tide begins +to gather strength, the channels on either side of Eynhallow for some +distance out to sea become a mass of heaving, foaming billows, reminding +one of the long stretch of boiling rapids below the Falls of Niagara. + +And that is just what this “roost” is—rapids on the course of the tidal +river which is now sweeping westward through Eynhallow Sound. When we +look at our pocket map, we see that on each side of the islet the depth +of water is only about five fathoms. In about a quarter of a mile it +becomes ten fathoms, and within a mile of the west end of the island +twenty fathoms. Thus the tidal river first passes over a ridge on each +side of Eynhallow, where it is less than thirty feet deep, and then +plunges down a slope which dips nearly one hundred feet in a mile. + +If there is a long swell rolling in from the Atlantic, as there often is +on our western shores, the turmoil is increased, and the boiling fury of +Burgar Roost, as it is called, is a sight which it is worth going far to +see. The roost which is formed in Hoy Sound with a strong ebb-tide is due +to similar causes but there the dip in the sea-bottom is not so steep. +When the tide turns, the change seems almost magical, and in a short time +there may be not a ripple on the water to mark the scene of this mad +dance of the billows. + +[Illustration: _Birsay, the Barony._] + +The cliffs at Costa Head are the highest on the Mainland, but we can only +see them from above, and thus we lose much of their wild grandeur. We +enjoy, however, an impressive view of the cave-pierced shores of Rousay, +and of the stern ramparts of Noup Head, in Westray, with its sentinel +lighthouse. + +Sooner or later we must return to our bicycles, and now we coast rapidly +down to the Loch of Swannay, sweep round its northern shore, and, +crossing the burn, climb the opposite slope towards the part of Birsay +quaintly named, “Abune the Hill,” or “Above the Hill,” as the map-makers +have it. Instead of following the road which strikes southward through +the centre of the parish, we turn towards the west, and by means of an +older road make our way to the Barony of Birsay, where we shall find +accommodation for the night. + +But we have still a long evening before us, and after due rest and +refreshment we shall find time to explore our surroundings. The place is +full of historical interest. The old name of _Birgisharad_, in which we +may trace the names of Birsay and Harray, indicates that here was the +chief hunting-ground of the Norse Jarls. The mixture of hill and loch +and stream, the valleys being then perhaps furnished with coverts of +brushwood where now there is only pasture or crops, made this northern +part of the Mainland the best hunting-ground in the county. + +Birsay may be said to have been the capital of the Earldom at one +time. It was the favourite residence of the Earls, and it was also the +ecclesiastical centre, and the residence of the first bishop of the +islands. When the sainted Earl Magnus was slain, it was in Christ’s Kirk +in Birsay that his body first found burial. On the Brough we may still +see the ruins of a very ancient chapel dedicated to St. Peter. + +The Stewart Earls, of dishonoured memory, found Birsay an attractive +locality. They raised on the site of its old Norse castle a palace built +after the plan of Holyrood in Edinburgh, the ruins of which still form +one of the chief features in the landscape. The whole district, in short, +is full of those remains which we have called milestones of the past, +marking stages in the history of our race. + +The shore near the Barony is interesting. We may walk to the Brough at +low water, but we must take care not to be caught and imprisoned by the +returning tide. The cliffs rise to the southward, and in Marwick Head +reach a height of nearly three hundred feet. + +[Illustration: _The Brough of Birsay._] + +The chief attraction for tourists is the Loch of Boardhouse and its trout +fishing. This loch receives the drainage of a wide stretch of country, +its chief feeder being the Hillside Burn, which rises in the hills +between Rendall and Harray, flows north-west for some five miles to the +Loch of Hundland, and under the name of the Burn of Kirbuster reaches +the larger loch in about another mile. This drainage basin is next in +importance and area to that of the “Great Lakes” of Orkney, the Lochs of +Stenness and Harray. + +If we have time and energy left to climb Ravie Hill, on the south side of +the loch, we shall get an excellent idea of the “lay of the land,” and +the relation of these two loch basins. We may notice in particular that +the Harray basin extends northward almost to the hill on which we stand, +and includes a number of small lochs near it which look as if they ought +to belong to the Boardhouse or Birsay system. + +If scenery rather than geography is our study, we shall be equally well +repaid for this walk. From its isolated position, Ravie Hill commands +a very extensive view, despite its moderate elevation. The panorama of +hill and valley and plain, of land and lake and sea, which is spread +out around us, is really one of the finest in Orkney, and we can quite +understand how the picturesque Barony came to occupy so important a place +in the past. Even at the present day its rich soil and pleasant situation +give it some right to be called the “Garden of Orkney.” But meantime we +must make our way back to our inn, for the sun is dipping in the western +sea, and to-morrow will bring us fresh tasks to perform. + + +Fourth Day. + +Our fourth and last day’s exploration will be confined to the western +shore of the Mainland, between Birsay and Stromness. As we leave the +Barony and ride along the south side of the loch we are tempted to stop +and view once more the landscape from Ravie Hill, before we finally turn +our back upon this romantic corner of the Mainland. While we watch the +people at work in the fields, and listen to the restful sounds of country +life, it is hard to picture the past whose relics stand yonder, plain in +our view. + +If Birsay were to display before our eyes this morning a pageant of her +past history, the procession would be a varied one. The hunting-parties +of the Norse Earls, the coming of the first bishop to teach the new +faith, the building of the first Norse church, the burial of Earl Magnus, +the procession of pilgrims seeking miraculous healing at his tomb, the +removal of the sacred relics to the church of St. Olaf at Kirkwall to +await the building of a more magnificent shrine, the ruinous favour of +the Scottish Earls, the raising of a second Holyrood in the old Barony +whose stately splendour was the measure of the robbery and extortion +suffered by the people, the passing of this incongruous pomp and the +return of welcome obscurity and quiet—truly a long and picturesque +procession! + +We resume our journey, however, and soon reach Twatt, where the road +divides. The branch to the left leads to the important district of +Dounby, on the borders of the three parishes of Birsay, Harray, and +Sandwick, and then passes through the whole length of Harray to join the +Kirkwall and Stromness road. + +Harray is an interesting parish. It is the only parish in Orkney which +does not touch the sea. Its soil is on the whole fertile, the surface +being diversified by moraines brought down by glaciers from the steep +hills to the east. The farms are generally small, but the farmers are +mostly in the happy position of being owners as well as occupiers, and +the number of “lairds” in this parish has long been proverbial in Orkney. + +We decide, however, on taking the road to the right, as we wish to see +something of the famous “west shore.” Three or four miles brings us +to the head of the Harray Loch; but instead of descending to the mill +of Rango we turn to the right at the cross-roads, and shortly reach +the hamlet of Aith, beside the Loch of Skaill, our charming “Loch in +Orcady.” Here we turn once more to the right, following a road which +skirts the loch and leads us almost to the shores of the Bay of Skaill, a +fine sweep of sandy beach, but exposed to the full fury of the Atlantic. + +[Illustration: _Marwick Head, Birsay._] + +At its southern corner we examine a large “Pict’s House,” now opened +up—the “Weem of Scarabrae.” Then we decide to climb the slope beyond and +visit the “Hole o’ Roo,” a famous cave piercing a bold headland, which +from the horizontal lie of the rock strata looks as if it had been built +of gigantic flagstones by a race of Titans. + +We are now entering on the finest stretch of cliff scenery in the +islands, with the exception of Hoy, and from here to Stromness, a +distance of some eight miles, the walk is one to remember and to repeat. +But now for the first time we find our bicycles a hindrance instead of +a help, and we are at a loss what to do with them. We may decide to +turn back to the main road, ride to Stromness, and, leaving them there, +explore the coast on foot, which is the most satisfactory plan. If we +decide to take them on with us, we shall find that considerable stretches +of the ground are level enough to permit of a rough ride on the turf, and +for the last three miles of the distance there is a fair road. + +[Illustration: _The Castle of Yesnaby._] + +The next point of interest after leaving Row Head is the Noust of +Bigging, sheltered by its Brough, an excellent place from which to watch +the Atlantic breakers when a heavy sea is running. A little way to the +south is the Castle of Yesnaby, one of those isolated stacks of rock +which have withstood the battering of the ocean while the cliffs around +have crumbled and fallen. Its slender base, however, proclaims that its +fate is only a matter of time. + +In another mile and a half, after passing Lyre Geo and Inganess Geo, two +impressive examples of how rocks decay, we reach the Castle of North +Gaulton, a singularly slender and graceful pillar of rock. Then we cross +a stretch of low ground, after which there is a steep climb up to the +summit of the Black Craig. The height of the hill is 360 feet, and that +of the cliff little less, while its sheer plunge down into the waves +makes it look higher than it really is. + +As we descend towards the south we pass over a district which is sacred +in the eyes of geologists, for it was here that Hugh Miller discovered +the fossil remains of the _Asterolepis_ or “star-scale” fish, a monster +of the ancient days when the rocks of this hill were being laid down +as mud and sand on the bottom of a primeval lake. The great geologist +describes this district as “the land of fish,” and the rock strata fairly +swarm with fossils. + +The shore in front is now low and tame, but the whole district from hill +to sea is fertile and well peopled. That it was so in the past also we +see sufficient proof. For there, on the shore of Breckness, stand the +ruins of a mansion built by Bishop Graeme, who knew well where to build; +and a mile beyond it, in the lonely churchyard by the lonely sea, rises +a fragment of an ancient church. There stood the church of Stromness in +former days, and there also the manse; while the names of Innertown and +Outertown doubtless refer to their relative nearness to this centre of +parish life. + +[Illustration: _Round about Stromness._ + +1. Dundas Street. 2. Church Road. 3. Victoria Street. 4. From the South +End. 5. From the Harbour. 6. From the Hill.] + +But times have changed, and it is no longer fertility of soil but +convenience for trade which draws men together in close neighbourhood, +and so the modern Stromness arose on the shore of that romantic little +bay which spreads out beneath us as we cross the ridge to the left. That +landlocked sea, and not the rocky hillside, was the source of its life +and growth; and as we note the frequent steamships and the clustered +fishing-fleet we realize that it is still the sea which brings prosperity +to the little gray town. + +Here, then, our circuit of the Mainland fitly ends, for in the opinion of +many the town of Stromness, the “ness of the tide-stream,” is the fairest +spot in all the islands. However this may be, it is indeed fair, and the +Stromness boy will wander far and sail over many seas ere he will find a +fairer scene than his island home;—fair when it lies before him under the +pearl-gray light of its northern sky; fairer still, perchance, when the +golden haze of memory gilds the landscape, and the joyous vision of the +outward eye has given place to the wistful retrospect of the imagination. + +[Illustration: _The Black Craig._] + + + + +SKETCHES BY HUGH MILLER. + + +The Dwarfie Stone. + +We landed at Hoy, on a rocky stretch of shore composed of the gray +flagstones of the district. They spread out here in front of the tall +hills composed of the overlying sandstone, in a green, undulating +platform, resembling a somewhat uneven esplanade spread out in front of a +steep rampart. With the upper deposit a new style of scenery commences, +unique in these islands. The hills, bold and abrupt, rise from fourteen +to sixteen hundred feet over the sea-level; and the valleys by which they +are traversed—no mere shallow inflections of the general surface, like +most of the other valleys of Orkney—are of profound depth, precipitous, +imposing, and solitary. The sudden change from the soft, low, and +comparatively tame to the bold, stern, and high serves admirably to show +how much the character of a landscape may depend upon the formation which +composes it. + +A walk of somewhat less than two miles brought me into the depths of a +brown, shaggy valley, so profoundly solitary that it does not contain a +single human habitation, nor, with one interesting exception, a single +trace of the hand of man. As the traveller approaches by a path somewhat +elevated, in order to avoid the peaty bogs of the bottom, along the +slopes of the northern side of the dell, he sees, amid the heath below, +what at first seems to be a rhomboidal piece of pavement of pale Old Red +Sandstone, bearing atop a few stunted tufts of vegetation. There are no +neighbouring objects of a known character by which to estimate its size. +The precipitous hill-front behind is more than a thousand feet in height; +the greatly taller Ward Hill of Hoy, which frowns over it on the opposite +side, is at least five hundred feet higher; and dwarfed by these giants +it seems a mere pavier’s flag, mayhap some five or six feet square by +some eighteen inches to two feet in depth. It is only on approaching it +within a few yards that we find it to be an enormous stone, nearly thirty +feet in length by almost fifteen feet in breadth, and in some places, +though it thins wedgelike towards one of the edges, more than six feet +in thickness—forming altogether such a mass as the quarrier would detach +from the solid rock to form the architrave of some vast gateway or the +pediment of some colossal statue. A cave-like excavation, nearly three +feet square, and rather more than seven feet in depth, opens on its gray +and lichened side. The excavation is widened within, along the opposite +walls, into two uncomfortably short beds, very much resembling those of +the cabin of a small coasting vessel. One of the two beds is furnished +with a protecting ledge and a pillow of stone hewn out of the solid +mass; while the other, which is some five or six inches shorter than its +neighbour, and presents altogether more the appearance of a place of +penance than of repose, lacks both cushion and ledge. An aperture, which +seems to have been originally of a circular form, and about two and a +half feet in diameter, but which some unlucky herd-boy, apparently in the +want of some better employment, has considerably mutilated and widened, +opens at the inner extremity of the excavation to the roof, as the hatch +of a vessel opens from the hold to the deck; for it is by far too wide in +proportion to the size of the apartment to be regarded as a chimney. A +gray, rudely-hewn block of sandstone, which, though greatly too ponderous +to be moved by any man of ordinary strength, seems to have served the +purpose of a door, lies prostrate beside the opening in front. + +[Illustration: _The Dwarfie Stone._] + +And such is the famous Dwarfie Stone of Hoy, as firmly fixed in our +literature by the genius of Sir Walter Scott as in this wide valley +by its ponderous weight and breadth of base, and regarding which—for +it shares in the general obscurity of the other ancient remains +of Orkney—the antiquary can do little more than repeat somewhat +incredulously what tradition tells him—namely, that it was the work many +ages ago of an ugly, malignant goblin, half earth, half air, the elfin +Trolld—a personage, it is said, that even within the last century used +occasionally to be seen flitting about in its neighbourhood. + +I was fortunate in a fine, breezy day, clear and sunshiny, save where the +shadows of a few dense, piled-up clouds swept dark athwart the landscape. +In the secluded recesses of the valley all was hot, heavy, and still; +though now and then a fitful snatch of a breeze, the mere fragment of +some broken gust that seemed to have lost its way, tossed for a moment +the white cannach of the bogs, or raised spirally into the air, for a few +yards, the light beards of some seeding thistle, and straightway let them +down again. Suddenly, however, about noon a shower broke thick and heavy +against the dark sides and gray scalp of the Ward Hill and came sweeping +down the valley. I did what Norna of the Fitful Head had, according to +the novelist, done before me in similar circumstances—crept for shelter +into the larger bed of the cell, which, though rather scant, taken fairly +lengthwise, for a man of five feet eleven, I found, by stretching myself +diagonally from corner to corner, no very uncomfortable lounging-place in +a thunder-shower. Some provident herd-boy had spread it over, apparently +months before, with a littering of heath and fern, which now formed a +dry, springy couch; and as I lay wrapped up in my plaid, listening to the +raindrops as they pattered thick and heavy atop or slanted through the +broken hatchway to the vacant bed on the opposite side of the excavation, +I called up the wild narrative of Norna and felt all its poetry. + +The Dwarfie Stone has been a good deal undervalued by some writers, such +as the historian of Orkney, Mr. Barry; and, considered simply as a work +of art or labour, it certainly does not stand high. When tracing, as I +lay abed, the marks of the tool, which in the harder portions of the +stone are still distinctly visible, I just thought how that, armed with +pick and chisel, and working as I was once accustomed to work, I could +complete such another excavation to order in some three weeks or a month. +But then I could not make my excavation a thousand years old, nor envelop +its origin in the sun-gilt vapours of a poetic obscurity, nor connect it +with the supernatural through the influence of wild, ancient traditions, +nor yet encircle it with a classic halo borrowed from the undying +inventions of an exquisite literary genius. + +The pillow I found littered over with the names of visitors; but the +stone—an exceedingly compact red sandstone—had resisted the imperfect +tools at the command of the traveller, usually a nail or a knife, and +so there were but two of the names decipherable—that of an “H. Ross, +1735,” and that of a “P. Folster, 1830.” The rain still pattered heavily +overhead, and with my geological chisel and hammer I did, to beguile the +time, what I very rarely do—added my name to the others, in characters +which, if both they and the Dwarfie Stone get but fair play, will be +distinctly legible two centuries hence. In what state will the world +then exist, or what sort of ideas will fill the head of the man who, when +the rock has well-nigh yielded up its charge, will decipher the name +for the last time, and inquire, mayhap, regarding the individual whom +it now designates, as I did this morning when I asked, “Who was this H. +Ross, and who this P. Folster?”? I remember when it would have saddened +me to think that there would in all probability be as little response in +the one case as in the other; but as men rise in years they become more +indifferent than in early youth to “that life which wits inherit after +death,” and are content to labour on and be obscure. + +The sun broke out in great beauty after the shower, glistening on a +thousand minute runnels that came streaming down the precipices, and +revealing through the thin, vapoury haze the horizontal lines of strata +that bar the hillsides, like courses of ashlar in a building. I failed, +however, to detect, amid the general many-pointed glitter by which the +blue, gauze-like mist was bespangled, the light of the great carbuncle +for which the Ward Hill has long been famous—that wondrous gem, according +to Sir Walter, “that, though it gleams ruddy as a furnace to them that +view it from beneath, ever becomes invisible to him whose daring foot +scales the precipices whence it darts its splendour.” + + +The Standing Stones. + +[Illustration: _The Standing Stones—The Ring of Brogar._] + +The Standing Stones—second in Britain, of their kind, only to those of +Stonehenge—occur in two groups; the smaller group (composed, however, +of the taller stones) on the southern promontory, the larger on the +northern one. Rude and shapeless, and bearing no other impress of the +designing faculty than that they are stuck endwise in the earth, and +form, as a whole, regular figures on the sward, there is yet a sublime +solemnity about them, unsurpassed in effect by any ruin I have yet seen, +however grand in its design or imposing in its proportions. Their very +rudeness, associated with their ponderous bulk and weight, adds to their +impressiveness. When there is art and taste enough in a country to hew an +ornate column, no one marvels that there should be also mechanical skill +enough in it to set it up on end; but the men who tore from the quarry +these vast slabs, some of them eighteen feet in height over the soil, +and raised them where they now stand, must have been ignorant savages +unacquainted with machinery, and unfurnished, apparently, with a single +tool. + +The consideration, too, that these remains—eldest of the works of man +in this country—should have so long survived all definite tradition of +the purposes which they were raised to serve, so that we now merely know +regarding them that they were religious in their uses—products of that +ineradicable instinct of man’s nature which leads him in so many various +ways to attempt conciliating the Powers of another world—serves greatly +to heighten their effect. + +The appearance of the obelisks, too, harmonizes well with their great +antiquity and the obscurity of their origin. For about a man’s height +from the ground they are covered thick by the shorter lichens—chiefly +the gray-stone _parmelia_—here and there embroidered by the golden-hued +patches of the yellow _parmelia_ of the wall; but their heads and +shoulders, raised beyond the reach alike of the herd-boy and of his +herd, are covered by an extraordinary profusion of a flowing beard-like +lichen of unusual length—the lichen _calicarus_ (or, according to modern +botanists, _Ramalina scopulorum_), in which they look like an assemblage +of ancient Druids, mysteriously stern and invincibly silent and shaggy as +the Bard of Gray, when + + “Loose his beard and hoary hair + Streamed like a meteor on the troubled air.” + +The day was perhaps too sunny and clear for seeing the Standing Stones +to the best possible advantage. They could not be better placed than on +their flat promontories, surrounded by the broad plain of an extensive +lake, in a waste, lonely, treeless country, that presents no bold +competing features to divert attention from them as the great central +objects of the landscape; but the gray of the morning or an atmosphere of +fog and vapour would have associated better with the misty obscurity of +their history, their shaggy forms, and their livid tints than the glare +of a cloudless sun, that brought out in hard, clear relief their rude +outlines, and gave to each its sharp, dark patch of shadow. Gray-coloured +objects, when tall and imposing, but of irregular form, are seen always +to most advantage in an uncertain light—in fog or frost-rime, or under a +scowling sky, or, as Parnell well expresses it, “amid the livid gleams +of night.” They appeal, if I may so express myself, to the sentiment of +the ghostly and the spectral, and demand at least a partial envelopment +of the obscure. Burns, with the true tact of the genuine poet, develops +the sentiment almost instinctively in an exquisite stanza in one of his +less-known songs. “The Posie,”— + + “The hawthorn I will pu’, wi’ its locks o’ siller gray, + Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o’ day.” + +Scott, too, in describing these very stones, chooses the early morning as +the time in which to exhibit them, when they “stood in the gray light of +the dawning, like the phantom forms of antediluvian giants, who, shrouded +in the habiliments of the dead, come to revisit, by the pale light, the +earth which they had plagued with their oppression, and polluted by their +sins, till they brought down upon it the vengeance of the long-suffering +heaven.” On another occasion he introduces them as “glimmering, a grayish +white, in the rising sun, and projecting far to the westward their long, +gigantic shadows.” And Malcolm, in the exercise of a similar faculty with +that of Burns and of Scott, surrounds them, in his description, with a +somewhat similar atmosphere of partial dimness and obscurity:— + + “The hoary rocks, of giant size, + That o’er the land in circles rise, + Of which tradition may not tell. + Fit circles for the wizard’s spell, + Seen far amidst the scowling storm, + Seem each a tall and phantom form, + As hurrying vapours o’er them flee, + Frowning in grim obscurity, + While, like a dread voice from the past, + Around them moans the autumnal blast.” + +There exist curious analogies between the earlier stages of society and +the more immature periods of life—between the savage and the child; +and the huge circle of Stennis seems suggestive of one of these. It is +considerably more than four hundred feet in diameter; and the stones +which compose it, varying from three to fourteen feet in height, must +have been originally from thirty-five to forty in number, though only +sixteen now remain erect. A mound and fosse, still distinctly traceable, +run round the whole; and there are several mysterious-looking tumuli +outside, bulky enough to remind one of the lesser moraines of the +geologist. But the circle, notwithstanding its imposing magnitude, is +but a huge child’s house after all—one of those circles of stones which +children lay down on their village green, and then, in the exercise of +that imaginative faculty which distinguishes between the young of the +human animal and those of every other creature, convert, by a sort of +conventionalism, into a church or dwelling-house, within which they +seat themselves and enact their imitations of the employments of their +seniors, whether domestic or ecclesiastical. The circle of Stennis was a +circle, say the antiquaries, dedicated to the sun. The group of stones on +the southern promontory of the lake formed but a half-circle, and it was +a half-circle dedicated to the moon. To the circular sun the great rude +children of an immature age of the world had laid down a circle of stones +on the one promontory; to the moon, in her half-orbed state, they had +laid down a half-circle on the other; and in propitiating these material +deities they employed in their respective enclosures, in the exercise of +a wild, unregulated fancy, uncouth, irrational rites. + + HUGH MILLER (_“Rambles of a Geologist.”_) + + + + +THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. MAGNUS. + + +You would hardly expect to find an ancient cathedral up in those Orkney +Islands that one usually sees huddled away in a spare corner of the map, +and made to look even smaller than they are by the exigencies of space. +It is curious to think of: once, long ago, strange ships with monstrous +figure-heads and painted sides, full of the northern actors of history, +crawled with their lines of oars into the sounds and bays of these +islands, till for centuries they became the stage for dramatic events +and stirring personages. Some of the players bore names that any history +book tells of. Harald Hardrada, old King Haco, Bothwell, and Montrose +have all played their parts. And there are others, earls and prelates, +and northern kings, and old sea-rovers, who were really far better worth +knowing than half the puppets with more familiar labels. Then, gradually +the lights went out and the audience turned away to look at other things, +and the Orkneymen were left to observe the Sabbath and elect a County +Council. One by one the old buildings toppled down, and the old names +changed, and the old customs faded, till the place of the islands in +history became their place upon the map; but time and men have spared one +thing—this old cathedral church of St. Magnus in Kirkwall. + +[Illustration: _In Kirkwall._ + +1. Earl’s Palace. 2. Bridge Street. 3. Albert Street. 4. Bishop’s Palace.] + +On the ancient houses of the little borough and the winding slit of a +street, the old red church still looks down benignly, and sometimes (of +a Sunday, I think, especially) a little humorously. Over the gray roofs +and the tree-tops in sheltered gardens, and the black mites of people +passing on their business, its lustreless Gothic eyes see a wide expanse +of land and a wider and brighter sweep of sea. The winding sounds and +broadening bays join and divide and join again, through and through +its island dominions. Backwards and forwards, twice a day, the flood +tide pours from the open Atlantic, and each channel becomes an eastward +flowing river; and then from the North Sea the ebb sets the races running +to the west. Everywhere is the sight or the sound of the sea—rollers on +the western cliffs, salt currents among the islands, quiet bays lapping +the feet of heathery hills. Out of the two great oceans the wind blows +like the blasts of an enormous bellows, and on the horizon the clouds are +eternally gathering. + +It is over this land of moor and water and vapour that the cathedral +watches the people; and though from the difficulty of passing through +so narrow a street it has never moved from the spot where it first +arose, and has never seen, one would suppose, the greater part of its +territories, yet it knows—none better—the stories and the spirit of all +the islands. Crows and gulls cruise round the tower familiarly, and +perhaps bring gossip; but eyes so long and narrow, and of so inhuman an +anatomy, may very likely see through a hill or a heart for themselves. + +The country is like a fleet at sea, and the old spirit of the people came +from the deep. At first that spirit was only restless and fierce and +free; in time it began to think, and at odd moments to be troubled, and +they called it pious. Then it looked for a fitting house where it might +live when it could no longer find a home in the people. So it built the +red cathedral, and there it silently dwells to-day. + +There is something in their church that none of the respectable townsfolk +have the slightest suspicion of—something alive that vibrates to the cry +of the wind and the breaking of the sea, and the little human events that +happen in the crow-stepped houses. + +On the wild autumn afternoons when the hard north-east wind is driving +rain and sleet through the town, the old church begins to remember. The +wind and the sleet coming over the sea stir the quick spirit so sharply +that every angle is full of sighing noises. As the shortened day draws +to an end, and lights begin to twinkle in the town, and the showers +become less frequent, and the clouds are rolled up and gathered off the +sky, then the people come out into the streets and see the early stars +above the gable-ends and high cathedral tower. They think it cold, and +walk quickly, but a personage of sandstone takes little note of the +temperature. The cathedral merely feels refreshed. + +When the clear, windy night draws in, the people go to rest, and one by +one the lights are put out till only the stars and the lighthouses are +left. Looking over a darkened town and an empty night, with the air +moving fresh from Norway, the memories come thick upon the old church +which shelters so many bones. It is like digging up the soil of those +lands from which the sea has for centuries receded, and where the ribs of +ships and the skeletons of sailors lie deep beneath the furrows of the +plough. + +Kirkwall must have been a strange little town before the cathedral’s +memory begins, when there was no red tower above the narrow street and +the little houses, in the days when Rognvald, the son of Kol, had vowed +to dedicate a splendid minster to his uncle, St. Magnus, should he come +by his own and call himself Earl of Orkney; and when the islanders waited +to see what aid the blessed saint would furnish to this enterprise. + +It is one of the island tragedies—the saga of how the evil Earl Hakon +slew his cousin, Earl Magnus, outside the old church of Egilsay with that +high round tower that you can see over Kirkwall Bay from the cathedral +parapet, and how the grass grew greener where he fell, and miracles +multiplied, and they made him a saint in time. + +Though all these events happened before a stone of the cathedral was +laid, they may help to give the meaning of its story, and on that account +they are worth, perhaps, a rough telling here. Earl Hakon had died, and +his son Paul ruled in his stead. He was a silent, brave, unlucky man, +upright and honourable in his dealings, but the shadow of his father’s +crime lay over the land. It brought old age and prosperity and repentance +to the doer of the deed; and on his son the punishment fell. + +[Illustration: _St. Magnus Cathedral, interior._ + +1. South aisle. 2. North aisle. 3. Nave.] + +Rognvald claimed the half of the earldom. Paul answered that there was no +need for long words, “For I will guard the Orkneys while God grants me +life so to do.” And then the contest began. Rognvald attacked from north +and south. Paul vanquished the southern fleet, and hurrying north drove +his rival back to Norway; and so the winter came on, and the peace that +in those days men kept in winter. + +All had gone well with Paul, but his luck was to change with a little +thing. He was keeping Yule with his friends and kinsmen, when upon a +winter’s evening, a man, wet with the spray of the Pentland Firth, came +out of the dusk and knocked upon the door. He was hardly the instrument, +one would think, a departed saint would choose to build a cathedral +with—a Viking with his sword ever loose in its sheath, and his lucky +star obscured, coming here for refuge, from the ashes of his father and +his home. He was known as Sweyn Asleifson (a name to be famous in the +islands), and was welcomed for his family’s sake; they brought him in +to the feast, and the drinking went on. In a little while there arose +a quarrel over the cups; Sweyn killed his man, and fled into the night +again. He was a landless outlaw this time, for the dead man had been +high in favour, and the earl was stern. Meanwhile men went on drinking +over the hall fires; but Paul’s luck had departed, and St. Magnus had a +weapon in his hand. In the spring the war began again, and suddenly in +the midst of it Earl Paul disappeared—his bodyguard cut down upon the +beach, himself spirited clean away. Sweyn Asleifson had come for him, and +carried him to a fate that was never more than rumoured. So Rognvald won +the earldom, and the first stones of his church were laid. The saint had +certainly struck for him. + +That is the true story of the vow and the building of the cathedral, a +tale too old for even the venerable church to remember. But all the long +history of the seven centuries since it knows; and indeed it has played +such a part in scene after scene and act after act, that a memory would +have to be of some poorer stuff than hewed sandstone to forget a past so +stirring. And who can be so far behind every scene as the house which +during men’s lives listens to their prayers, and at last upon a day takes +them in for ever? + +When it first began to look down from its windows upon those men going +about their business in the sunshine or the rain, it saw among the +little creatures some that were well worth remembering, though there be +few but the cathedral to remember them now. There was Rognvald himself, +that cheerful, gallant earl who made poetry and war, and sailed to +Jerusalem with all his chiefs and friends, fighting and rhyming all the +way, and riding home across the length of Europe, and who, when he fell +by an assassin’s hand, was laid at last beneath the pavement of this +cathedral he had founded. And then, most memorable of all the great +odallers who followed him in war and sat at his Yule feasts, there was +the Viking, Sweyn Asleifson, he who kidnapped Paul, and afterwards became +the lifelong and, on the whole, faithful friend of Rognvald, and the +faithless enemy of almost every one else; the most daring, unscrupulous, +famous, and—judging by the way he always obtained forgiveness when he +needed it—the most fascinating man in all the northern countries. He was +the luckiest, too, till the day he fell in an ambush in the streets of +Dublin, exclaiming with his last breath, in most remarkable contrast to +the tenor of his life: “Know this, all men, that I am one of the Saint +Earl Rognvald’s bodyguard, and I now mean to put my trust in being where +he is, with God.” May he rest in peace wherever his bones lie, even +though his reformation came something late, the turbulent, terrible old +Viking, whom the Saga writers called the last of that profession. + +The generation who built it had passed away, when on a summer’s day, +after it had weathered nearly a century of storm and shine, the cathedral +saw the greatest sight it had yet beheld. Haco of Norway had come with +his fleet to conquer the Western Isles of Scotland, the Norse kings’ old +inheritance. The pointed windows watched ship after ship sail by with +coloured sails and shining shields, bearing the Norsemen to their last +battle in southern lands; and then the islands waited for the news that +in those days was brought by the men who had made the story. + +Month upon month went by; men wondered and rumours flew; the days grew +shorter, and the gales came out upon all the seas. At last, when winter +was well upon the islands, what were left of the battered ships began to +struggle home. They brought back stories that the cathedral remembers, +though six centuries have rolled them out of the memories of the +people—tales of lee-shores and westerly gales, of anchors dragging under +the Cumbraes, and Scottish knights charging down upon the beach where the +Norwegian spears were ranked on the edge of the tide; then of more gales +and whirlpools in the Pentland, until at length they carried their old +sick king ashore, to die in the bishop’s palace at Kirkwall. + +[Illustration: _St. Magnus Cathedral, exterior._ + +1. West doorway, nave. 2. East window. 3. Doorway, south transept. 4. +Doorway, north aisle. 5. Doorway, south aisle.] + +He lay for two months in that ancient building—now a roofless shell, +standing just beyond the churchyard wall—his most faithful friends beside +him, the restless Orkney wind without, and the voice of the Saga reader +by the bed. First they read to him in Latin, till he grew too sick to +follow the foreign words; and then in Norse, through the Sagas of the +saints, and after of the kings. They had come down to his own father, +Sverrir, and then, in the words of the old historian, “Near midnight +Sverrir’s Saga was read through, and just as midnight was past Almighty +God called King Hakon from this world’s life.” They buried him in the +great red church that had stood sentinel over the sick-chamber; and as +the race of Vikings died with Sweyn, so the roving, conquering kings of +Norway passed away with Haco, and never again came south to trouble the +seaboards. + +The Orkneys, however, were not yet out of the current of affairs. They +cut, indeed, but a small figure compared with the Orkney of the great +Earl Thorfinn in the century before Rognvald founded his cathedral—he +who owned nine earldoms in Scotland and all the Southern Isles, besides +a great realm in Ireland. But there was still a bishop in the palace +and an earl with powers of life and death in his dominion, and an armed +following that counted for something in war; and the cathedral was still +the church of a small country rather than of a little county. The sun +cast the shadows of dignitaries in the winding street, and the bones +they were framed of were laid in time beneath the flags of St. Magnus’s +church. When one comes to think of it, the old cathedral must hold a +varied collection of these, for here lie the high and the low of two +races, and no man knows how many chance sojourners and travellers. + +At last, upon a dark day for the islands, their era of semi-independence +and Vikingism and Norse romance came to a most undignified end. A needy +king of the north pledged them to Scotland for his daughter’s dowry, +as a common man might pledge his watch. East to Norway was no longer +the way to the motherland, and the open horizon meeting the clouds, the +old highroad, led now to a foreign shore. Henceforth they belonged to +the long coast with its pale mountain peaks far away over the cliffs, +which had once, so far as the eye could see, belonged to them. It was a +transaction intended for a season, but the season has never ran to its +limit yet. Now, it is to be hoped, it never will; but for centuries it +would have been better for the Orkneys if they had gone the way of some +volcanic islet and sunk quietly below the gray North Sea. + +One might think that, when they had ceased to be a half-way house between +their sovereign and his neighbours of Europe, and were become instead +a geographical term applied to the least accessible portion of their +new lord’s dominions, their history and their troubles would soon have +ceased, and the islanders been left to fish and reap late crops and try +to keep out the winter weather. But there was no such good luck for many +a day to come. Alas for themselves, they were too valuable an asset in +the Scotch king’s treasury. Orkney too valuable! That collection of +windy, treeless islands, where great ponds of rain-water stand through +the fields for months together, and a strawberry that ripens is shown +to one’s friends! The plain truth is that, measured by a Scotch standard +of value in those days, it would have been hard to find a pocket not +worth the picking. The rental of Orkney was more than twice that of the +kingdom of Fife, and Fife, I suppose, was an El Dorado compared with most +provinces of its impecunious country. So north they came, Scotch earls +and bishops and younger sons, to make what they could before the pledge +was redeemed. And to the old cathedral was flung the shame of standing as +the symbol of oppression. It was not its fault, and every stone must have +silently cried to Heaven for forgiveness. But a cathedral meant a bishop, +and an Orkney bishop meant the refinement of roguery and exaction. When +these prelates in their turns came to inhabit permanently their minster, +and they could at last hear the voice of its spirit that loves the +land it watches, demanding an account of their stewardship, what could +they say? The old excuse—“We must live”? I can hardly think the church +perceived the necessity. + +That monument which the old sailors and fighters of the north had built, +that they might link a better world with the rough and warring earth, +had to stand immovable for century upon century, watching the trouble +of their sons. It saw them make their stand at Summerdale in the old +fashion, with sword and halbert and a battle-cry on their lips, and +march back again to the town in a glimpse of triumph. But that quickly +faded, and the weight of new laws and evil rulers gradually broke the +high spirit entirely. It saw the proud odallers reduced to long-suffering +“peerie lairds,” and all their power and romance and circumstance of +state pass over to the foreigner, until after a time it was hard to +believe that, some pages further back, there was a closed chapter of +history which read quite differently from this. + +Down below the parapet of the tower the narrow streets were full of the +most splendid-looking people, all in steel and the Stewart arms. Earls +Robert and Patrick of that royal name, each, through his scandalous life, +made the island the home of a prince’s court; and out among the moors and +the islands the old race wondered whose turn it should be for persecution +next, and how long Heaven would let these things be. + +The downfall of the Stewarts’ rule came at last, violently as was fit, +but to the end they used the old church on behalf of the wrong. The tower +was wrapped in the smoke of the rebels’ musketry when old Earl Patrick +lay by the heels in Edinburgh awaiting his doom as a traitor, and his son +held Kirkwall against what might, by comparison, be termed the law, and +it was only at the point of the pike that they turned the last Stewart +out of the sepulchre of St. Magnus. + +Then the long windows watched the shadows of all manner of persons, who +are well forgotten now, darken the prospect for a while, and pass away to +let other clouds gather; and in all that time there cannot have been many +whom a critical edifice can recall with pride. + +The bishops were sent about their business, and the Solemn League and +Covenant was solemnly sworn. The troopers of Cromwell stalked through +the old pillars with their wide hats the firmer set on. The Covenant +was unsworn, and the bishops came back and acquired emoluments for a +little while longer, till at last they went altogether, and in good, +sober Presbyterian fashion the awakened people set about purifying their +temple. Poor old church! they did it thoroughly. Away went carving and +stained glass, and ancient tombs and bones, and everything that the +austere taste of Heaven is supposed by man to dislike. They made it clean +with a kind of yellowish whitewash, and divided it by a sanitary deal +screen impervious to draught. In this shameful guise the cathedral has +watched the advent of quiet days and the slow healing of time. To-day the +greatest clamour it hears is made by the rooks. No earl’s men or bishop’s +men quarrel in the streets; no one either fears or harries the islanders; +the history of Orkney is written and closed and laid upon the shelf. +The hands of the clock move evenly round, and the seasons change by the +almanac. + +But there stands the old red church, silently remembering and arranging +in their due perspective all these things remarkable and true. The worst +of it is that it makes no comment that a mortal can understand, so that +no one can say what a seasoned, well-mortared observer of seven centuries +of affairs thinks of changing dynasties and creeds, and whether it is +disposed to take them more seriously than so many moultings of feathers, +and if one can retain any optimism through a course of whitewash and +draught-proof screens. + +It is pleasant to think, for the old minster’s sake, that it heeds the +rubs of fortune very little, and regards material changes just as so +many shifts of plumage. Its people are still flesh and blood, and its +islands rock and turf and heather, and it will take more than pails +and paint-brushes, and pledges and covenants to make them otherwise. +The winter days are as bleak as ever, and the summer evenings as long +and light, and the sun rises out of the North Sea among the flat green +islands, and sinks in the Atlantic behind the western heather hills; and +it is likely enough that from the height of the cathedral tower many +other most serious events look surprisingly unimportant. + + J. STORER CLOUSTON. + (_“Macmillan’s Magazine.” By permission._) + +[Illustration: _Kirkwall in winter._] + + + + +A ROAD IN ORCADY. + + +In southern lands—and most lands are southern to us—the road runs between +fragrant hedgerows or under shady trees; but in Orcady trees and hedges +are practically unknown. Yet the road lacks not its charm, for this is +a world of compensations. If we never breathe the fragrance of the may +or hear the whisper of the wind-stirred branches, we have, on the other +hand, nothing to shut out from our eyes the wide expanse of land and sea +or to hide the blue sky over us, no fallen timber after a gale to block +our way and make of our progress an involuntary obstacle race, and no +thorns to puncture our cycle tyres. The lover of the highway may miss +here much of the bird-life that enlivens the roads of the south; but our +road has a life and traffic of its own quite apart from the trickling +stream of men and horses which flows fitfully along its white channel. +Flowers and flies, birds and beasts, the road has something for each and +all of them. Even by day they use it, but from dusk to dawn they claim it +as their very own. + +[Illustration: _By the Roadside—“Peerie Hooses.”_ + +1. Holm. 2. Harray. 3. Birsay. 4. Tankerness. 5. Orphir.] + +I do not remember that Stevenson, who so loved the road, has written +anywhere of its little life—of the birds and beasts, the shy living +things, that haunt it. In the treeless isles of Orcady, at least, the +furred and feathered creatures seem to think that man makes the road for +their especial delectation. For all creatures of beach and bog, hill +and meadow, it has its charms; and hence it is ever beat upon by soft, +soundless feet and shadowed by swiftly moving wings, and many a little +comedy or tragedy is played out upon its stage. We walk upon it in spring +and summer through an air fragrant with the perfume of innumerable small, +sweet flowers, with the music of birds and bees about us, and ever, under +and behind all song, the voice of the great sea, full of indefinable +mystery as of a half-remembered dream. + +The engineer who makes the road unwittingly plans it in such fashion as +to be of service to the folk of moor and marsh, of shore and furrow. In +Orcady every road, sooner or later, leads to the sea. In former days the +sea itself was the great highway, and therefore close to its shores are +found the old kirks and kirkyards. For by sea men came to worship God, +and by sea they were carried to their long home. The kirks and kirkyards +being beside the sea, the road comes thither to them. It comes down also +to the piers, the slips, and jetties, which play so important a part in +the lives of the islanders. Thus the road passes within a few yards of +the haunts of all the divers, swimmers, and waders that frequent our +shores. + +Also in making a road the aim of the man who plans it is to avoid, so far +as possible, all ascents and descents. In carrying out this aim he raises +the road on embankments where it passes through low and marshy grounds, +and makes cuttings through the higher lands. Where it runs through such a +cutting the roadside ditches catch and keep a little store of water in +a dry season, and thither plover, snipe, redshanks, and dotterel bring +their velvet-clad birdlings to drink. If the season be wet, the road +raises above the marsh a comparatively dry platform, on which the birds +may rest when not feeding, and the roadside dykes offer a shelter from +wind and sun. + +But our road draws feet and wings to it in many other ways. It passes +now through cultivated fields, with dry stone dykes fencing it on either +side; now it runs unfenced through the open moorland, and again along +the very margin of the sea. Here it is bordered by marshes and there by +a long reach of black peat-bog, and everywhere it woos with varied wiles +the living things of earth and air. Before the dykes have seen many +seasons they begin to deck themselves with velvet mosses, and to the +miniature forests of moss come insects of the lesser sorts, flying and +creeping things, red and brown and blue. In pursuit of these small deer +come the spiders, which lurk in crevices of the walls and spread their +cunning snares across the mouths of culverts where farm roads branch off +from the highway. Long-legged water-skaters dart to and fro among the +floating weeds on the surface of the stagnant ditches; and over these +ditches the midges weave their fantastic dances on summer evenings. The +litter of passing traffic brings hurrying, busy, burnished beetles, +which find harbourage in the loosely piled banks of ditch scrapings that +form the boundary between highway and moorland. Where the road, with +its generous grassy margin, runs like a white ribbon with green borders +through the brown moors, wild flowers that are choked or hidden in the +heather spread themselves to the sunshine—primroses and daisies, clover +red and white, milkwort and tormentil, hawkweed and violets, thyme and +crowfoot: their very names read like a poem. The number of small wild +flowers that grow in our roadside ditches and within reach of the road +is amazing when one begins to reckon them. Here the steep grassy bank is +gorgeous with rose-campion and with the purple and gold of the vetches, +and all the air is sweet with the perfume of wild mustard, which with +the pale yellow of its blossoms almost hides the green in that field of +springing barley. This wet meadow, on either hand all aglow with the pink +blossoms of the ragged robin, a little earlier in the year had its wide +and shallow ditches glorified by the broad green leaves and exquisite +feathery blooms of the bog-bean, while its drier grounds were starred +with the pale cups of grass of Parnassus. In spring the vernal squills +shone on yonder hillocks with a blue glory as of the sea in summer. + +On this long flat stretch of peat-bog these are not untimely snowdrifts +but nodding patches of cotton-grass. In autumn, when a strong wind +blows from that quarter, all the road will be strewn with the silvery, +silken down that makes so brave a show among the purple heather of the +bog. Later still in the year the same bog will glow ruddy as with a +perpetual sunset, when the long, coarse grass reddens. Passing this way +on some gray afternoon the wayfarer will find it hard to believe that +the “charmed sunset” has not suddenly shone out through the clouds “low +adown in the red west.” And the peat-moss on which the road is built +has other glories—green moss and moss as red as blood, fairy cups of +silver lichen with scarlet rims, and long reaches of bog-asphodel, +shining like cloth-of-gold and sweetening the winds with their faint, +delicate perfume. Here, where our road runs on a firmer foundation, grow +the wild willows, all low-growing and all adding a beauty to the year +in their catkins. When the daisies have hardly ventured to thrust their +heads into a cold world the catkins gleam in silky silver, changing as +the days lengthen to yellow gold. Later on some of them are covered with +an exquisite white down which floats their seeds about the land. The +little burns which our road bridges ripple and chatter through miniature +forests of ferns and meadow-sweet, the foxglove shakes its bells above +the splendour of the gorse, and the yellow iris hides the young wild-duck +that are making their way by ditch and brooklet to the sea. These are but +a few of the flowers with which the road garlands and bedecks herself to +welcome the little peoples who love her. + +To the flowers come all day long in summer the humble-bees. These little +reddish-yellow fellows, hot and angry-looking, have their byke or nest +in some mossy bank or old turf dyke, to which they carry wax and honey +for the fashioning of a round, irregular, dirty-looking comb. The chances +are that they will be despoiled of their treasure by some errant herd-boy +before July is half over. Their great cousins in black velvet striped +with gold prefer to live solitary in some deserted mouse-hole; but they +cannot, for all their swagger and fierce looks, save their honey from +Boy the Devourer. Though there are no wasps in Orcady, the roadside +blossoms have visitors other than the bees. Here come the white and +brown butterflies, and those dainty little blue creatures whose wings +are painted and eyed like a peacock’s tail. And at night moths, white, +yellow, and gray, flit like ghosts above the sleeping flowers, or dance +mysteriously in the dusk on silent wings. + +Where the insects come, there follow the insect-eaters. On a June evening +there are parts of the road where one may see kittiwakes and black-headed +gulls hawking for moths. Wheatears and starlings, larks and pipits, +and, more rarely, thrushes, blackbirds, and wrens, with an occasional +stonechat, all come to prey on the insect life of the road. Swallows +there are none in Orcady, but the ubiquitous sparrow is there. To his +contented mind the road offers a continual feast. When the birds set +up housekeeping in spring, many of them choose their nesting-places in +the near neighbourhood of the road. It seems almost as if they argued +that here, under the very eye of man, they run less risk of discovery +than further afield, where he may expect to find their treasures. From +crannies of the loosely-built walls that bound the road you may hear +the hungry broods of starlings, sparrows, and wheatears chirping on +every side as you pass in May. I have seen a nestful of young larks +gape up with their foolish yellow throats from a tuft of grass on the +very edge of a roadside ditch, and have found a grouse’s nest in the +heather not fifty yards from the most man-frequented part of the road. +Yellow-hammers, too, and other buntings often nest in the long grass by +the ditchside. Here, in a hedge of whin or gorse which crosses the road +at right angles, are the nests of the thrush, the blackbird, and the +wren. If you drive along our road in spring you shall see the male pewit, +in all the glory of his wedding garments, scraping, a few yards from +the roadside, the shallow, circular hollow in which his young are to be +hatched; and a little later you shall see his patient spouse look up at +you fearlessly from her eggs, or even, if your passing be at noonday, you +may watch her slip off the nest as her mate comes up behind to relieve +her in her domestic duties. For these birds have learned that man on +wheels is not to be feared, though man on foot is one of their most +dreaded enemies. + +In Orcady there are not many four-footed wild things, but those that +dwell among us are drawn to the road as surely as the birds are. In the +gloaming rabbits come down to the roadside clover where the bees have +gathered honey all day. Great brown hares, too, come loping leisurely +along the road—moving shadows that melt into the dusk at the least alarm. +Hares always like to make their forms near a road of some sort, for it +affords them a swift and ready means of flight when they are pursued. +They must be hard pressed indeed before they will dive like rabbits into +roadside drains or culverts, but these refuges are not to be despised +when greyhound or lurcher is close upon their heels. Mice, voles, and +rats find shelter in the banks of road-scrapings or in the walls and +drain-mouths; and the sea-otter does not despise the road when he makes +a nocturnal expedition inland. It is not long since a man who was early +afoot on a summer morning met a pair of otters almost on the street of +our sleeping island capital. Seals, of course, cannot use the road, but +where it runs by the sea-marge their shining heads rise up from the +water to watch the passers-by, and he who is abroad before dawn may find +them on the beaches within a few yards of the roadway. + +The deer, roe, foxes, badgers, stoats, weasels, wild-cats, and moles of +Orcady are even as the snakes of Iceland. Tame cats ran wild, however, +we do not lack, and they take their tithe from the road as surely as do +the hawks and falcons. Neither snakes, lizards, nor frogs are found in +the isles, but on a damp autumn evening the road is dotted with toads of +all sizes, which sit gazing into infinity or hop clumsily from before the +passing wheel. + +In pursuit of beetles, mice, and small birds, hawks and owls come to +the road. The kestrel of all hawks loves it the most. He sits upon +the humming telegraph wires or hangs poised, like Mahomet’s coffin, +in mid-air, ever watchful and ready to swoop down upon his prey. The +same wires which give him a resting-place often furnish him with food, +ready killed or disabled. When man first set up his posts along the +road and threaded them with an endless wire, sad havoc was wrought +among the birds. Plover—green and golden—snipe, redshanks, and grouse +dashing across the road in the dusk, struck the fatal wires and fell +dead or maimed by the wayside. I have seen a blackbird fly shrieking +from a prowling cat, and strike the wire with such force that his head, +cut clean off, dropped at my very feet. The older birds appear to have +learned a lesson from the misfortunes of their fellows, but every autumn +young birds, new to their wings, pay their tribute of victims to the +wires. More especially is this the case with the plovers, and though +the kestrel rarely touches so big a bird when it is whole and sound, he +feasts upon their wounded. + +The hen-harrier skims to and fro along the roadside ditches, but he is +a wary and cautious fowl, and is never within gunshot of the road when +a man comes down that way. The merlin, that beautiful miniature falcon, +glides swift and low across the moors and meadows, flashes suddenly +over the roadside dyke, and before the small birds have time to realize +that their enemy is upon them, he is gone again—only a little puff of +feathers floating slowly down the air showing where he struck his prey. +The peregrine wheels high overhead, but is too proud and shy a bird to +hunt upon man’s roads. Nor has the road any charm for the raven, who +goes croaking hoarsely over it on his way from shore to hill. The little +short-eared owls hide all day among the heather near our road, and come +flapping up in the gloaming on noiseless wings to take their share of its +good things. In the treeless islands the kestrel is not the only bird +that sits upon the wires. There the starling sings his weird love song, +mingling with his own harsh notes the calls of every other bird that the +islands know; and the buntings chant their lugubrious and monotonous +ditties there. + +The telegraph wires are not the only mysterious works of man which have +disturbed and interfered with the feathered life so near to and yet so +far apart from his. What a mystery must he be to those fellow-creatures +who watch him, with his continual scratching and patching of the breast +of kindly Mother Earth! Not wholly does he yield the road to them between +sunset and sunrise; but when he goes abroad in the dark it is often +in the guise of a rumbling dragon with great eyes of flame. Once, to +the writer’s knowledge, a gannet swooped down in valiant ignorance on +such a horrid creature of the night. He flashed suddenly, white out of +the darkness, into the circle of light of a doctor’s gig lamps. That +bold bird his fellows saw no more; and one may fancy that with his +disappearance a new terror was added to the fiery-eyed creatures that +roam the roads by night. He died, though not without a fierce fight for +his life; and his skin, cunningly filled out with wire and straw, stands +under a glass case in his slayer’s home even unto this day. + +It is in spring and summer that the road sets forth its choicest lures +for its lovers, yet even in “winter and rough weather” it has its +beauties for the seeing eye. The puddles and cart-ruts shine like dull +silver when the clouds are heavy and gray overhead. When the rain cloud +blows over and the sky clears, these same shallow pools and channels +gleam with a cold, clear blue, more exquisite than that of the heavens +they reflect; and at night the stars besprinkle them with diamonds. +Again,— + + “Autumnal frosts enchant the pool, + And make the cart-ruts beautiful.” + +“When daisies go”—and of all roadside blossoms they linger latest and +reappear earliest (I have seen them lifting their modest crimson-tipped +heads in December and opening their yellow eyes before the coltsfoot +stars begin to shine)—but even when they are gone the gray stone dykes +have still a glory of green moss, of gray and golden lichens. + +When all the land is soaked and sodden with heavy rains, the road, where +it climbs that low brown hill, will suddenly shine out across the +intervening miles like a sword flung down among the heather. + +When the winter rains have given place to the first snowfall of the year, +go out early in the morning, before hoofs and wheels have blotted out +the traces of the night, and you shall learn, as nothing else save long +and close observation can teach you, how great is the nocturnal traffic +of birds and beasts upon the road. Like fine lacework you shall find +their footprints, to and fro, round and across, up the middle and down +again. Hares and rabbits, rats and mice, gulls and plovers, thrushes and +larks, water-hens and water-rails—these and many more have been busy here +while you slept. And even now bright eyes are watching you, themselves +unseen—those unsuspected eyes which are ever upon us as we follow the +road on our daily round of duty or pleasure. Do they look on us with +fear or wonder, with contempt or admiration, or with a mingling of all +these feelings? That we can never know while the great barrier of silence +stands between us and them. We blunder across their lives, doing them +good and evil indiscriminately, but we understand them no more than they +can understand us. + +Now in winter, new birds come to our road. Great flocks of snow-buntings, +circling and wheeling with marvellous precision, at one moment almost +invisible—a dim, brown, moving mist—and the next flashing a thousand +points of silver to the level rays of the wintry sun. Scores of +greenfinches, which we never see in summer, rise from the road edges to +circle a little way and settle again. The “spink spink” of the chaffinch, +also unknown to us in summer, may now be heard; fieldfares spring +chuckling through the air far overhead, and red-winged thrushes hop +among the stubbles. Down this shallow pass between the low hills come in +the gloaming the lines of the wild swans, flying from the upland lochs +to the sea. Their trumpet call rings far through the frosty air, and as +we hear them there stir within us vague thoughts and dreams of the white +north whence they came. As if answering the thought, the wet road shines +with a new, faint, unearthly light, as flickering up the northern sky +come the pale shifting streamers of the aurora borealis. + +Of the human life that pulses intermittently along our road there is not +space now to write. Boy and girl, youth and maiden, man and woman, day by +day, year in, year out, they follow the winding line, till for each in +turn the day comes when it leads them to the kirkyard or to the sea, and +the roads of Orcady know them no more. + + DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON. + (_“Longman’s Magazine.” By permission._) + +[Illustration: _Kirkwall Pier—a midnight photograph._] + + + + +A LOCH IN ORCADY. + + +It is one among many, in an island where the lochs lie scattered like +fragments of the sky fallen among the hills—one among many, and one of +the least known of them all. On it the fisherman casts no fly, or casts +it in vain, for fish have never prospered in its waters. It can never +be an ideal trout loch, for it is not fed, like its sister lochs, by +the innumerable small burns that channel our low hills. One surface-fed +streamlet indeed flows into it, a streamlet hardly worthy of the +courtesy-title it bears; but for the most part its waters are drawn from +the secret sources of the springs. + +Its placid surface mirrors no hillsides purple with heather and green +with waving fern, but from its margin the land rolls back in low billows, +squared with fields that year by year darken under the plough and smile +again in due season with the homely crops of the isles. Yet the little +loch has charms of its own for those who know it—charms that its wilder +and more romantic sisters cannot boast. Not a quarter of a mile from its +western shore the Atlantic billows boom and thunder upon the cliffs, or +roll in, great and green, to burst and spread in a whirling smother of +foam upon the sands; and the quiet of the inland water is thrice welcome +to eye and ear when these are dazzled and wearied by the ceaseless +turmoil and tumult of the sea. + +The valley in which lies the loch runs down to a deeply curved bay, swept +and scoured out by the sea, where there is a breach in the great cliff +rampart that guards our island’s western coast. Up this valley the wind +has, through the ages, heaped a huge sandhill which rolls and ripples +under its greensward down to the lip of the bay. Between the sand and the +clay lies the loch, narrowed by the rising slope of sand that forms its +northern bank. + +At its eastern end is the germ of a village. A little shop, a post +office, the long, low building which was a school before these days of +school boards—these and a few cottages stand between the loch and the +sunrise. Close to the water’s edge runs the highroad leading from a steep +little seaport town, away through the quiet country, luring men to the +sea and the great world of adventure beyond it. For with us isles-folk +the tune that sings itself in the dreams of youth is not “Over the +_hills_,” but “Over the _seas_ and far away.” + +Along the northern shore, as close as may be to the water, runs another +road—a road that leads to the kirk and the kirkyaird, and, incidentally, +to the laird’s house. Yet because men, who made the road, must preserve +an apparent sobriety and straightness of purpose, while Nature, who laid +the line between land and water, need care nothing for her reputation, +there runs between the road and the water a grassy margin. Here it is +of the narrowest, and there it spreads out into miniature capes and +peninsulas, where teal love to rest in the early morning, and rabbits +come down to nibble the juicy water-plants long before man is afoot. + +[Illustration: _Some “Big Hooses.”—I._ + +1. Skaill, Sandwick. 2. Binscarth. 3. Hall of Tankerness. 4. Westness, +Rousay. 5. Holodyke, Harray.] + +On the other side of the road the sandbank rises steep and green, a cliff +of sandy sward sometimes attaining a height of full twenty feet. There +the rabbits have their outposts. The green turf is splotched with the +scattered sand from their burrows, and their white tails bob and flutter +among the mounds they have made. + +This is but the flank of the sandhill. Farther to the west, where man has +never ploughed the sand, the loch is bounded by low, green links which +swarm with rabbits. Bunkers and hazards there are to delight the soul of +the golfer; yet hither that lover of links comes but seldom. The rabbits +and the birds have it all to themselves, save where some little fields +are set amid the links, and one or two houses of men. + +Out of the turf of the bank projects a great stone, gray with lichen, and +looking like the broken and petrified shaft of a mighty spear flung by +one of the giants who of old waged a titanic warfare from isle to isle. +Yet if a vague legend be true, the great stone is rather some bewitched +living creature waiting the breaking of spells; for, so they say, there +is a certain night in each year when it leaves its sandy bed and goes +down to quench its thirst in the waters of the loch. + +Yet the birds do not fear it. The wheatear jerks and bobs upon its +topmost edge as we gaze and wonder how and when he came hither. Then +with a flirt of his tail he is off to repeat his cheerful, tuneless call +upon the nearest mound. + +At its western end the loch widens and is divided into two little bays, a +bay of sand and a bay of mud. In the more northerly of these bays there +is being fought a long skirmish in the great, slow, endless war between +land and water; and now victory leans towards the land, for the sand, +blowing up day by day from the sea, settles here in the shallow water and +drives it back. + +Twenty years ago, between the loch’s edge and the links lay a field of +shining yellow sand, to which the golden plover were wont to come down in +great flocks of an autumn evening. Once the sand had established itself, +the advance of grass and flowers began. Pushing forward a vanguard of +reeds and rushes, they pursued their steady march down to the water’s +edge; and now, where the sands were, is a grassy meadow, starred in its +season with the pale blooms of the grass of Parnassus, its landward side +meshed by rabbit tracks, the tiny rivulets winding through it beset with +scented beds of wild peppermint and haunted by snipe, and its outer +margin giving cover to duck and coots, to water-hens and dabchicks. + +There are little islets beyond the meadow, some grass-grown, some still +of bare sand, and a little sandy beach at one place, where redshanks and +ringed plover run in the shallows. Thither too come the dunlin and the +sandpiper, and rarer birds—knots and ruffs, greenshanks with their triple +call, and whimbrels, the “summer whaups” of the isles-folk. Here you may +wade, knee-deep in clear water, to the very outer edge of the reeds +and find all the way a footing on hard sand. And the reeds will yield +their secrets. On this heaped pyramid the little grebe is hatching her +eggs, and that reedy platform is a coot’s nest. Or at a later season you +may chance, if the Fates be kind, to catch a glimpse of scurrying dusky +ducklings vanishing among the green stems, while their mother flutters +off, making-believe to have a broken wing. + +A wide, shallow ditch divides the marsh from the fields on the south, +and where the ditch ends an old stone wall begins, marches a little way +towards the water, and then breaks off to run round the bay of mud, and +so up along the south shore of the loch. Where it turns off, this wall +seems at one time to have meditated an advance into the water, and in +its retreat has left a tumbled straggle of stones which runs out along a +little cape. Here at twilight come great gray herons, shouting hoarsely, +to sit gazing into the waters. Here, too, curlews are wont to gather, +keeping well out of gunshot from wall or ditch. + +The southern bay—the bay of mud—holds a great reed-bed, where shelter +many water-fowl. The swans breed there, with coot and water-hen and +grebe. There, too, come the wild duck after their kind, mallard and teal, +pochard and scaup, golden-eye and merganser. But the bottom there is +muddy and treacherous, and it is a very doubtful pleasure to follow the +wild-fowl through their haunts in the reeds. About the inner margin of +the reed-bed, among the grassy tussocks and muddy pools, is a favourite +feeding-ground for snipe. There, too, the pewits gather, and gulls of +many kinds, while redshanks rise screaming from the water’s edge. + +Out in the middle of the loch is a small islet or holm. This islet is +nested on every summer by a colony of black-headed gulls. There, too, the +terns breed, and there the great white-breasted cormorants, which come +up after the eels of the loch, sit with black wings widespread in the +sunlight. The circling, screaming cloud of gulls which hovers over the +islet is a sight never to be forgotten, and the very thought of the sound +of their calling brings back those wonderful summer days when all the +world was young, and a brighter sun shone in a bluer sky. + +There are men scattered here and there about the world who look back to +the loch and its environs as to an earthly paradise; and ever in their +dreams the loch, the links, the shore are but a beloved and beautiful +background to one central figure—a boy with a gun. The seasons may +change and mingle, as seasons do in dreams, but the boy treads again the +familiar places, and renews his old disappointments and triumphs. Each +man sees different pictures and a different boy, but a boy with a gun is +always there. + +It is strange to think that there may be other boys to-day who hold the +loch and all its pleasant places in fee as we hold it by the tenure of +our memories. Stranger still to think of all the vanished boys, back +through the years, the generations, the centuries, who have loved our +little loch, hunted by its margins, and dreamed strange dreams among the +sunny hollows of the links. Could they return to-day, islesman born, +Norseman, Pict, or Scot, they would find many changes; for man is ever +busy improving and altering the face of his kindly Mother Earth: yet the +loch they would see but little changed. + +The waters shine as of old under the same sunlight, or ruffle into +miniature white-capped billows with the autumn winds, and by night +they mirror the unchanging stars. The splendour of the sandhills in +summer, when they robe themselves like kings with the purple and gold +of crowfoot and thyme; the hot scent of wild peppermint crushed under +foot; the trumpet call of the wild swans ringing through the frosty air +on winter nights; the pipings and flutings of the water-fowl among the +summer reeds; the screaming of falcons and croaking of ravens from the +cliffs; and overhead, from dawn to dusk, in the long days of the northern +summer, the myriad music of the larks;—all these things they would find +unchanged. And though the little fences and fields, the roads, the byres +and barns of men have changed the nearer scene, yet man has not altered +the “beloved outline of familiar hills,” nor silenced the deep music of +the eternal sea. + + DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON. + (_“Longman’s Magazine.” By permission._) + +[Illustration] + + + + +AMONG THE KELPERS. + + +In the end of March and the beginning of April, when the isles rise brown +from a steel-gray, wind-ruffled sea, their bare unloveliness is veiled by +pale blue smoke-drifts, which cast over the low, sloping shores a certain +charm of remoteness and of mystery. Later in the year, when the summer +seas are only less blue than the skies above them, and every island +shines like an emerald, white jets and spirals as from many altars rise +round all the shores. For spring and summer are the kelper’s seasons, and +long, dry days, which scorch and wither the young crops, are welcome to +the crofter who has secured a good stock of “tangles” in winter and a big +share in a “brook of ware,” now that “burning weather” has come. + +Until recently no kelp was burned after Lammas—that is, August 2—but of +late years, when the season has been dry, the fires have been burned even +so late as October. + +The kelper’s year may be reckoned from mid-November. Then he is paid for +his work in the year that is ended. Then the gales sweep up from north +or west, tearing from its deep sea-bed the red-ware, of which the long +supple stems are known to the islesmen as “tangles.” Should the wind +freshen to a gale during the night, the diligent kelper is up and out +before the first glimmer of dawn. Buffeted by the wind and lashed by the +stinging spray, he peers through the darkness, watching for those shadows +against the white surf of the breaking waves which he knows to be rolling +masses of seaweed and wrack. He is armed with a “pick,” an implement +resembling a very strong hayfork, but with the prongs set, like those of +a rake, at right angles to the handle. With this pick, struggling often +mid-thigh deep in the rushing waters, he grapples the tumbling seaweed +and drags it up the beach, out of reach of the waves. For the wind may +change, and the “brook,” as he calls a drift of weed, if not secured +at once, may be carried out to sea again, or even worse, to some other +strand where it will be lost to him. Of course, the winds and waves often +do this work alone, and pile the tangles in huge, glittering rolls along +the beaches. + +When the brook is fairly on the strand, the work of the kelper is only +begun. He has to carry the tangles from the beach to the seabanks above, +in carts where that is possible, and where no carts can pass, then +laboriously on hand-barrows. I know of one strand on which the great gale +of November 1893 landed a brook of tangles which kept the kelpers busy +for three months. Once on the banks, the tangles are stacked in great +heaps on “steiths,” or foundations built of sea-rounded stones arranged +in such fashion as to give free ingress to the air. There they lie till +spring, when by the action of wind and sun they have become hard, dry, +and wrinkled—brands ready for the burning. + +[Illustration: _Some “Big Hooses.”—II._ + +1. Trumbland, Rousay. 2. Graemeshall, Holm. 3. Melsetter. 4. Balfour +Castle. 5. Smoogro, Orphir.] + +Only the tangles can be dried in winter; but the softer parts—the +foliage, one may call it—of the red-ware is not lost, but goes to manure +the fields, and until a sufficient quantity has been obtained for that +purpose none is made into kelp. + +Each proprietor in the islands has right, generally under a charter +from the Crown, to the weed cast up on his shores. Each ware-strand, or +beach where drift-weed comes to land, is set apart for a certain number +of tenants on the estate to which it belongs, and each brook of ware as +it comes ashore is divided among these tenants, usually in proportion +to their rents. The general custom is, that it is decided by lot from +which portion of the brook each man shall draw his share. The middle is +generally considered the best part, as there the weed is in its greatest +bulk, and less rolled and beaten by the sea than at the ends; but it may +happen that one end is near the only part of the beach where the ware can +be carried up, and then the man who draws his lot there is saved much +labour. + +The sharing of the ware is a fertile seed of dispute and an inexhaustible +source of quarrel. The “kelp grieve,” or overseer who acts for the +proprietor, generally settles all disputes; and each kelper, with the aid +of his family, carries up his share of the brook, and spreads it on the +drying-greens. These are most frequently links that know not cleek or +driver, and upon them in the early morning the ware is spread, as thinly +as may be, to be dried on the short, crisp grass by sun and wind. + +To the man whose daily life is built about with stone and lime, the +summer work of the kelpers shines tempting as the waters to Tantalus. +He thinks not of that kelper in winter, plunging and struggling with the +slippery tangles amid the turmoil of the surf, but dreams only of quiet +summer days and the gray glimmer of sunlit waters seen through a veil of +drifting smoke. + +[Illustration: _Kelp-burning._] + +The links roll down in long, green billows from the ruins of an old +feudal castle, where the brown rabbit is the door-ward, and in whose +towers the starling nests unscared—roll down to a little bay, where +the long waves of the Atlantic come up unceasingly, curving in great, +green arches, before they break in thunder of white foam on the brown +rocks and yellow sand. Where the grass is thin and scant the sand shines +through, and this makes a bad drying-green, as kelp is of less value +when mixed with sand. But here is a short, close turf, nibbled upon by +rabbits, a racing-ground for lambs, where the thrift or sea-pink meets +the meadow-clover, and thyme and crowfoot break in ripples of purple and +gold to sweeten all the summer air. + +Than this a better drying-green cannot be found. On one side of the bay +a long stretch of flat rocks runs down from the grass to the sea, and +they too are utilized, when tides allow, to dry the seaweed. Here, in +May and June, the whole air tingles with the song of larks innumerable. +Long before sunrise, before the last stars have faded in the west, they +are up, weaving a magical garment of song over all the green land. All +day and far into the dim twilight that is our northern night they sing +without ceasing. Larks are everywhere. In that tuft of grass at our +feet is a nest with four of the dusky-brown eggs which hold next year’s +music. There, in the ditch by the roadside, is another nest, from which +the featherless young raise feeble necks to gape for food, showing their +yellow tongues with the three black spots, which children here are told +will appear on the tongue of that child who takes the laverock’s nest. +Again, a fledgeling, speckled like a toad, rises suddenly from the clover +and flies a few yards, while its anxious parents circle close overhead +with little tremulous bursts of song, or flutter with trailing wing along +the grass. + +That pretence of a broken wing, which now seems to be an instinct, must +surely at first have been arrived at by a process of reasoning. There +must have been long since a broken wing, and a boy, or a dog, or a snake +to chase the fluttering sufferer, and some wise observer among the +mother-birds of that forgotten day to see and make a note of the chase, +and with the heart-leap of a happy inspiration to find in it a new method +of protecting her eggs and tender young, and to hand down the lesson she +learned to our blithesome bird of the wilderness. + +But this summer world, so thrilled with lark music, is not held by the +lark alone in fee. From every dry-stone wall young starlings are calling, +“Chirr! chirr! chirr!” and the old birds hurry to and fro between their +nests and the brown fields, soon to wave with oats and bere, where they +gather the insects and grubs their younglings love. Their bronze feathers +gleam in the sunshine as they pass, and at their harsh note of warning as +they see strangers near their homes the tumult of the young birds among +the stones is instantly hushed. The farmer owes these cheerful and busy +birds a heavy debt of gratitude, as the number of his insect enemies +which they destroy is incalculable. + +On the smooth turf the dried ware is piled in conical heaps, like +giant molehills, to preserve it from the heavy night dews and from +possible rain, and among the brown hillocks the wheatear bobs up and +down, flirting his tail and repeating his cheerful “Tchk! tchk! chek-o! +chek-o!” At times the rapture of summer and of his love inspire him with +a vain desire of song. Up he goes, as if he were in very deed the skylark +he takes as his model, uttering harsh and unmelodious notes—a feeble +travesty of the golden rain of song that falls from the blue above him. +But his flight extends upwards only a yard or two, and he sinks down +again, chuckling to himself, as pleased with his song as any minor poet. + +As the day wears down to afternoon the corncrakes begin to call from the +young grass, and all night long they answer each other from field to +field. Speak of them to the kelpers, and everywhere one hears the same +story of their hibernation in old walls. That landrails migrate has been +proved beyond question, but equally beyond question does it seem that +some few sleep out the winter here. Any kelper will tell how he, or if +not he himself then some one of his neighbours, once in winter found a +corncrake in some old dyke, to all appearance dead. He carried it home, +and, laying it before the fire, watched the death-like trance slowly melt +into life and motion. + +As to the winter sleep I can only speak at second-hand; but I have seen +the birds in summer run like rats into the dry-stone dykes with which +our crofters so love to encumber and adorn their land. That these dykes +can be meant only for ornament is evident to the most casual observer in +this land where ponies, cows, sheep, ay, and the very geese, are ofttimes +tethered by the leg. + +Yet if the dykes serve no other purpose, they provide nesting-places for +the starling and the wheatear, for the rock-pipit and the sparrow, which +save the crops of the crofter from destruction by grub and fly. Mice +also shelter in them, and rats in those islands where rats are found. In +the happy isle of which I write no rat can live. They come ashore time +and again from vessels touching at the little pier near the village, but +where they go or what fate awaits them none can tell—only this, that they +are seen no more on the green lap of the world. + +But we have left the ware too long in the sun. Should rain come, the +kelper sees much of his profit melt away, for the salt which it causes +to crystallize on the dried weed wastes, and what is left makes inferior +kelp. All along the edges of the drying-greens are the burning pits or +kilns—hollows for all the world like huge plovers’ nests in shape, lined +with flat blue stones from the beach. They are about two feet deep and +some five feet in diameter. + +When the ware is ready to be burned a smouldering peat or a handful of +lighted straw is laid in the bottom of the pit. Over this dry ware is +piled, slowly at first till the fire catches, and ever more rapidly as +the red core of smouldering flame waxes. + +Sometimes ware and tangles are burned separately, but more frequently +the kelper burns them together. The tangles make the stronger and better +kelp. The pit is filled, and the ware or tangles are piled on till the +mass rises two feet or more above the level of the earth. Then for six or +eight hours it must be carefully watched and tended, and ever new fuel +piled on to prevent a burst of flame. When tangles are being burnt alone, +the kelper finishes off his pit with dried ware, as otherwise the tougher +knots and lumps of the latest burned tangles would not be thoroughly +consumed. + +Each pit holds about half a ton, and takes the best part of a summer +day to burn, the actual time depending on the state of the wind and the +condition of the weed. When at last it smoulders low, it is “raked” +before being left to cool. One man takes a spade with a very small blade +and a handle fully seven feet long, the lower half being of iron; two +other workers, as often women as men, have “rakes,” implements not +unlike a rough caricature of a golfer’s iron, but with handles as long as +that of the spade. With these rakes the kelp is mixed and smoothed, while +the spadesman turns it up from the bottom of the pit. Hard work it is and +hot, great jets of flame shooting out under the spade from what looks +like gray crumbling earth mingled with black ashes and white quartz; for +the kelp assumes so many colours and forms that to describe it accurately +were impossible. As the kelper turns and tosses the glowing mass on a +warm June evening, he knows he has come near the end of that labour which +began in the gray winter dawn, when the rolls of red-weed lashed about +him amid the roaring backwash of the waves. + +When the kelp has been sufficiently mixed, the pit is levelled and +smoothed over, all the outlying ashes are swept in with a handful of +dry ware, and it is left to cool and harden. Then, as the kelpers turn +homewards, the white sea fog creeps up by the rocks where all day long +the kelp smoke drifted. + +Such is the work of the kelper, and such the places of his toil. An easy +and a pleasant life it is compared to that of the men who labour in the +bowels of the earth or in the great manufactories of smoke-darkened +cities. He has the green turf under his foot and the clear sky over +him, the sea makes music for him unceasingly, and the salt winds bring +him health and strength. The furred and feathered folks share his land +with him, and gather their harvest on the same shores. As he goes to +his work in the morning, through the silver mists of dawn, a flock of +blue rock-doves with great clatter of wings flash off through the clear +air. The redshank pipes shrilly at him from the copestone of the nearest +wall, and over the ploughed fields where their precious eggs are lying +the pewits wheel and scream. “Pewit-weet! pee-weet!”—their note has in +it for the isles folk, to whom the cuckoo is but a name, the very voice +of spring and hope and love. The ringed plover stands motionless on his +three-toed yellow feet, calling with his sweet, low note, and invisible +save to the keenest eye until he makes a little run and betrays himself. +Linnets swing and sing on the swaying thistles and among the heather. On +the blue waters of the bay a little fleet of eider ducks is afloat, and +their curious, hoarse, barking chuckle rolls up over the waters. Perhaps +a seal raises his round head, shining like a bottle, and gazes with +mild eyes at the men upon the beaches; while overhead gulls and terns +swing past, cleaving the strong air with careless wing. Far out to sea +the white gannets hawk to and fro. Suddenly one poises in mid-air for a +moment, then drops like a stone into the water, a fountain of white spray +flashing up in the sunlight as he disappears. Your kelper will tell you +how in his younger days he caught the solan geese by means of a herring +fastened to a board and sunk a few inches below the surface of the water. +The bird sees the fish, poises, and swoops down only to drive his mighty +bill through the board and break his neck. + +Nearer shore than the gannets the kittiwakes are fishing, when suddenly +there glides among them a dusky skua, who forces the luckiest fisher to +drop his spoil, which the ravager catches in mid-air and bears off. A +true pirate of the air is the skua, and reminds me always of those low, +dark feluccas so dreadful and so dear to the sailor on the high seas +of romance. Far up in the blue ether a peregrine falcon sweeps round, +circling wide on motionless, outspread wings, or a raven goes croaking +from the cliffs to seek a prey, as he may have done for years unnumbered. +If the tradition of his longevity may be believed, that dark corbie who +flies croaking over the kelpers toiling in the morning sunlight, and sees +the white smoke rise from their harmless kilns—what fires may he not have +seen upon these beaches, and what strange smoke of sacrifice go up from +forgotten altars to the unchanging heavens? Give him even a shorter lease +of life than that which tradition assigns him, and still he may remember +the blazing beacons leap up to carry from isle to isle a warning of the +coming of Norse invaders. Allow him only two short centuries, and yet +he must have watched the smoke of many a burning homestead in the days +when the followers of the “Wee, wee German Lairdie” avenged their private +wrongs in the name of their king. The older men among the kelpers still +tell tales of the Jacobite lairds who lay hid like conies in the clefts +of the rocks till these calamities were overpast. + +The old stories—the folk-tales of the isles—linger fragmentary among the +kelping people. One may hear from them how all the fairies were seen to +leave some island riding on tangles, and how they all went down in the +windy firth, never to be seen again of mortals. Here is a man, bowed and +crippled by rheumatism, who will tell how he was shot in the back by a +“hill-ane” when ploughing. He saw not his assailant, but only the shadow +of him on the earth. Another old man remembers having his side hurt as +a boy, and going to a “wise woman” to be cured. She told him he had been +“forespoken”—that is, bewitched—by a woman then dead, and made him drink +water mixed with earth from the “fore-speaker’s” grave. She then put a +hoop covered with a sheep’s skin on his head, a basin of water on that, +and poured melted lead through the head of a key into the water, giving +the patient a piece of the lead in the form of a heart as a charm. The +cure wrought by this modern Norna was not, however, effectual. + +There are many quaint and even beautiful turns of speech among these +hard-working crofters. Their faces shine on my memory red like setting +suns through the white reek of the kelp pits. Here is one whose fathers +fled from Perthshire after “the ’45,” and who thinks that some day he +would like to go back to see the old place again—the “old place” which +none of his have looked upon for one hundred and forty years! He toils +night and day in summer cultivating his croft, fishing for lobsters, and +making kelp. His rent is perhaps seven or eight pounds. Books, you would +think, must be unknown to him; yet he will tell you he has “always been +a great reader of Sir Walter Scott’s works,” and under the spell of that +mighty wizard his hard life has budded and wreathed itself with romance. + +At the next pit is a man of a very different type. Quiet and slow, this +man has led an honest life, with an eye ever to the main chance. Pressed +once for an answer to some question important to the settling of a kelp +dispute, after vain attempts at evasion, he burst out, “Gie me time, Mr. +Blank, to wind up me mind.” + +Across the bay the pits are watched by an old bachelor—a _rara avis_ +among the kelpers—a little, clean-shaven, mouse-like man, who has “money +in the bank.” He holds a croft where his ancestors have dwelt longer than +the memory of man extends. The peat fire smouldering on his hearth has, +to his certain knowledge, burned unquenched for two hundred years. How +much longer ago it was kindled tradition recordeth not. Every night his +last work is to “rest” that precious fire, and every morning it claims +his earliest care. All his life he has toiled, gathering a harvest both +from land and sea, and a harvest of content and happiness as well, such +as few crofters know how to reap. “When I come oot on a fine simmer +morning at four o’clock wi’ never anither reek but me ain, I’m laird o’ +a’ the land as far as I can see.” He has the secret of the lordship of +the eye, which can give to a penniless man more profit of the pleasant +earth than to the greatest lord of land among them all. + +Look at this fellow, gaunt, black, and shaggy; he might be one of +_Punch’s_ Scotch elders. Asked if he remembered some event of thirty +years ago—“No, sir,” he said. “Ye see, I wasna at hame then; I was divin’ +in the face o’ the sea for a livin’.” He had been a fisherman, and quite +naturally chose to say so in this poetic phrase. + +These are only a few from among the many typical kelpers whose friendship +I am proud to own. But if the types among them are many and various, in +one thing they are all alike—their capacity for hard work. That work +does not cease with the smoothing over of the smouldering pits. When +the kelp has cooled it is broken up and lifted out of the pit in great +lumps which look like gray slag, with streaks of white, blue, and brown +running through it. Should it be exposed to rain its quality is much +deteriorated, and to avoid this danger storehouses are built by the +lairds, to which the kelp is carted. The kelp grieve weighs each man’s +quantity as it is brought in, and he is paid a fixed sum per ton. When +a sufficient quantity is gathered in the store a vessel is chartered, +and where there is a pier the kelp is carted alongside. In islands +where there is no pier it must be taken off in small boats. The kelpers +themselves provide the carriage. Then the sails are spread, and the +produce of the year’s work is carried off to chemical works far over +sea, where, by processes unknown to me, iodine is extracted from it. The +kelper receives about two pounds ten shillings for each ton of kelp he +manufactures, and the importance and benefit of the industry to these +crofters cannot be overestimated. I have known a man paying a rent of +eight pounds receive thirty-four pounds for his kelp in one year. Nor +is the actual price he receives the only benefit the crofter derives +from kelp. Were it not for the share of the profit falling to the laird, +he too often could not, in these days, afford to assist his tenants in +improving either their houses or their land. On the whole, then, the +kelper’s lot is not an unhappy one. His work lies in pleasant places, and +it is eminently healthy, and his days, as a rule, are long in the land +and on the sea. + + DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON. + (_“Longman’s Magazine.” By permission._) + + + + +A WHALE-HUNT IN ORKNEY. + + +“Whales in the bay so soon in the season!” exclaimed the clergyman, +starting to his feet. “Come away,” he continued, “you have yet another +day before you; we imitate the great of old, who entertained their guests +with tournaments.” + +The manse garden commanded a fine view of Mill Bay, and on rushing out +into the open air we saw a long dark line of boats, some with sails and +some with oars, stretching across the blue waters of the broad voe, +upwards of a mile from the shore. The practised eye of my host caught the +gleam of dorsal fins in front of the boats, and we immediately hurried +down to the beach, scarcely drawing breath till we stood on the bank +above the sands of Mill Bay. The inmates of the neighbouring cottages +had already assembled in eager groups on the grassy downs, and other +islanders still came flocking from remoter farms and cabins to the shore. +Several of the men were armed with harpoons, while farm lads flourished +over their shoulders formidable three-pronged “graips” and long-hafted +hayforks. + +Many of the matrons had their heads encased in woollen “buities,” and +this peculiar headdress imparted a singular picturesqueness to the +excited groups on the sea-bank. Other boats with skilled hands on board +put off from various points along the shore, and the fleet of small craft +in the bay was rapidly increased by the arrival of fresh yawls. The crowd +of urchins on the beach, who “thee’d” and “thou’d” each other like little +Quakers in the Orcadian vernacular, cheered lustily as boat after boat +hove in view round the headlands, swelling the fleet of whalers. + +The line of boats was now little more than a quarter of a mile from the +beach. The bottle-nosed or ca’ing whales, showing their snouts and dorsal +fins at intervals, seemed to advance slowly, throwing out skirmishers and +cautiously feeling their way. As the beach was smooth and sandy, with +a gentle slope, the boatmen in pursuit were endeavouring to drive the +“school” into the shallows, where harpoons, hayforks, and other weapons +could be used to advantage. + +The excitement of the spectators on land increased as the long line of +the sea-monsters drew closer inshore. From the boats there came wafted +across the water the sound of beating pitchers and rattling rowlocks, +and the hoarse chorus of shouting voices. This babel of noises, which +the water mellowed into a wild war-chant with cymbal accompaniment, was +meant to scare the “school” and hasten the stranding of the whales. But +an incident occurred that changed the promising aspect of affairs, turned +the tide of battle, and gave new animation to the scene. + +Eager to participate in the expected slaughter, two or three farm lads, +whose movements had escaped notice, suddenly shot off from the shore in +a skiff rowing right in front of the advancing line. The glitter and +splash of oars alarmed the leaders, and the entire “school,” seized with +a sudden panic, wheeled round and dashed at headlong speed into the line +of pursuing boats. + +A shout rose from the shore as the flash of tail-fins, the heaving of +the boats, and the rapid strokes of the boatmen showed all too plainly +the escape of the whales, and the success of their victorious charge. +Away beyond the broken line of the fleet they plunged in wild stampede, +striking the blue waters into spangles of silver foam. Arches of spray, +blown into the air at wide distances apart, served to indicate the size +of the “school” and the speed of the fugitives. + +“Whew!” exclaimed my reverend friend, “that was a gallant charge, and +deserved to succeed; but I hope our brave lads will yet put salt upon +their tails. The boatmen have toiled hard for their share of the fish, +and great would be the pity if the whales made right off to the open sea. +It is not every day that a ‘drave’ a hundred strong visits our shores, +and there they go round the head of Odness in full career.” + +A commotion among the crowd at a short distance along the beach here +arrested our attention. The exciting spectacle of the grand charge and +wild flight of the whales had so absorbed our gaze that we failed to +notice a mishap which was fortunately more ludicrous than alarming. +The three youths who foolishly rowed off from the shore and caused the +stampede had suffered for their rashness by getting their skiff capsized +when the sea-monsters wheeled round to the charge. On gaining the +outskirts of the crowd, we found the three luckless whale-hunters already +beached. Bonnetless, dripping, and disconsolate, they were the objects +of mirth to some, of commiseration to others. + +At last they made off, and we immediately set out in the direction of +Odness to catch a sight of the whales, which had quite disappeared from +the bay. The boats had turned in pursuit when the “school” escaped, and +they were now making all haste to double the headland. On gaining the top +of the cliffs, we were glad to observe that the whales, recovered from +their fright, drifted leisurely along the coast, giving way at times to +eccentric gambols. + +“All right!” cried my friend, handing me back my binocular; “they are +coasting away famously round Lamb Head, and they are almost certain to +take a snooze in Rousholm Bay, which is the best whale-trap I know in +Orkney. Let us sit down here on the top of the cliffs till the boats come +abreast, and then we shall take a nearer way to Rousholm than following +the coast.” + +The summit of the rocks, softly carpeted with grass, moss, and wild +flowers, afforded a pleasant resting-place, and commanded a picturesque +prospect. To eastward there was a wide expanse of sea, stretching away +without a break to the Norwegian fiords. The whale-hunting fleet, +composed of all varieties of small craft, was soon well abreast of +our resting-place. A fine and favourable breeze had sprung up, and +fishing-yawls, with their brown sails outspread, coasted briskly along. +The rearguard of the fleet consisted of row-boats manned by patient +and determined boatmen, who pulled hard at the oars in the prospect +of winning some share of the spoil. We remained a short time on the +moss-crowned cliffs gazing on the animated scene, and listening to the +voices of the boatmen, the plash of the waves below, and the plaint +of restless sea-birds. On leaving our lair we dropped down upon a +neighbouring farmhouse, where a couple of “shelties” were placed at our +disposal, and away we trotted along field-paths and rough tracks to the +head of Rousholm Bay, on the south side of the island. From all the +cottages and farms in the district the islanders were flocking to the +shore of the bay, and we thus had good hope that a portion of the school +at least had run blindfold into the whale-trap of Rousholm. On nearing +the shore we were delighted to find that our hope was fulfilled. A large +detachment of the whales, supposed to number one hundred and fifty, had +entered the bay, while the rest of the school had disappeared amid the +reaches of the Stronsay Firth. + +Rounding the point of Torness, and stretching across the mouth of the +bay, the fleet of small craft again hove into view, and pressed upon the +rear of the slowly advancing and imprisoned whales. Among the onlookers +there was now intense excitement, the greatest anxiety being manifested +lest the detached wing should follow the main army, and again break the +line of boats in a victorious charge. The shoutings and noise of the +boatmen recommenced, and echoed from shore to shore of the beautiful and +secluded bay. A fresh alarm seized the monsters, but instead of wheeling +about and rushing off to the open sea as before, they dashed rapidly +forwards a few yards, pursued by the boats, and were soon floundering +helplessly in the shallows. + +The scene that ensued was of the most exciting description. Fast and +furious the boatmen struck and stabbed to right and left; while the +people on the shore, forming an auxiliary force, dashed down to assist +in the massacre, wielding all sorts of weapons. The wounded monsters +lashed about with their tails, imperilling life and limb, and the ruddy +hue of the water along the stretch of shore soon indicated the extent of +the carnage. Some of the larger whales displayed great tenacity of life; +but the unequal conflict closed at last, and no fewer than a hundred and +seventy carcasses were dragged up on the beach. + +One or two slight accidents occurred, but to me it seemed marvellous that +the boatmen did not injure each other as much as the whales amid the +confusion and excitement of the scene. The carcasses, as I was informed, +would realize between £300 and £400; and grateful were the people that +Providence had remembered the island of Stronsay, by sending them a +wonderful windfall of bottle-noses fresh from the confines of the Arctic +Circle. + + DANIEL GORRIE + (_“Summers and Winters in the Orkneys.”_) + +[Illustration: _Wreck at Burgh Head, Stronsay._] + + + + +ARTICLES MADE OF STRAW. + + +The Orkney peasantry of two centuries ago lived in a poor country—a +country ground down by the tyranny of greedy and unscrupulous rulers; a +country whose inhabitants had neither the raw materials from which to +construct many necessary utensils nor the money to purchase them. It is +interesting to note some of the ways in which our forefathers overcame +the circumstances in which they were placed. One of the most notable is +the ingenious use of straw for the construction of many domestic utensils. + +The materials from which articles of straw were made were principally +_bent_ and the straw of black oats. The bent, after being cut, was +loosely bound into rough sheaves and left to dry and wither. It was then +bound into neat sheaves called _beats_, the legal size of which used to +be two spans in circumference. Each beat was carefully pleated at the +upper end, gradually tapering upwards into a cord which served to bind +two beats together. The pair of beats so fastened was called a “band of +bent,” twelve of which formed a “thrave.” From this bent were made the +cords, always called _bands_, which were used in the manufacture of +straw. During the long winter evenings each ploughman was required to +wind into bands one beat of bent. The cord was spun or twisted by the +fingers, the two strands being each twisted singly, and at the same time +laid into each other in such a way that the tendency of the strands to +untwist was the means of keeping the two firmly twisted together. + +The straw used was that of the common Orkney black oats, which was at +once tougher and more flexible than that of other cultivated kinds. +The straw to be used was not threshed with the flail, which would have +spoiled it, but was selected from the sheaves, held in a bunch between +the hands, and beaten on some hard edge to remove the grain. Such straw +was called _gloy_. From those two materials, bent bands and gloy, a very +wide variety of indispensable articles were manufactured by the Orkney +farmer. + +These articles may be divided into three classes—flexible, semi-flexible, +and inflexible. Of the flexible type, the most simple and primitive +article was the _sookan_, or, to give it a still older name, the +_wislin_. This was simply straw twisted loosely into a thick cord of one +strand, for temporary use. If not at once used to tie round something, it +had to be wound into a clew to preserve its twist. + +A very common use of sookans in the winter-time was to form what were +known as “straw boots.” A loop of the sookan was passed round the instep, +over the shoe or _rivlin_, the thick straw cord being then wound round +the ankles and the lower part of the leg. When the snow was deep, such +straw boots formed a very comfortable part of the peasant’s attire. Less +than a century ago, on a Sunday when the snow lay deep on the ground, +more than forty men wearing straw boots were seen in one Orkney church. +It must be added that on the way home some of them were severely reproved +by a neighbour for having performed this unnecessary labour on the +Sabbath day! + +Next in order comes _simmans_. This was a strong straw rope made of two +strands, also twisted by hand, and rolled into great balls or clews, the +size of which was the width of the barn door. The main use of simmans +was to thatch the corn stacks, and also the roofs of the cottages. A +newly-thatched cottage, with the bright warm colour of the new straw +ropes, was a pleasing object in an Orkney landscape. The sombre colour +given when the simmans were twisted of brown heather was less cheerful, +but Nature did her best even here by her decoration of the low walls with +bright yellow and green lichens. + +Most of the ropes and cordage required by the Orkney farmer were made +either of hair or of bent. The bent bands already noticed were made +into ropes on a rude machine called a _tethergarth_, and were used +for tethering cattle and sheep, and for “boat tethers” for small +fishing-boats. Finer bent ropes were applied to a great many uses, such +as flail “hoods,” sheep shackles, and all parts of horse harness. A very +important part of this, the collar or _wazzie_, was formed by twisting +four thick folds of straw together; and, when properly made, I suspect +the wazzie was much cooler for the horse than the modern collar with +its absurd cape. Even the plough-traces were made of bent ropes, which, +if quickly worn, were easily replaced. For bringing in the crop, a large +net made of bent cord, and called a _mazie_, was put round a bundle of +sheaves, and suspended, one on each side of the horse, from the horns of +the _clibber_, a rough kind of wooden pack-saddle. + +_Flackies_, or mats made of straw bound together with bent cord, were +used for many purposes. Small ones were used as door-mats, and large +ones were hung up as an apology for an inner door. Horse flackies were +laid over the back of the horse to protect it from the friction of the +clibber, and his sides from the load which it supported. Flackies were +also fixed on the rafters, under the straw, when thatching house roofs. + +We next come to what I have called the semi-flexible class of straw +articles. The first to be noticed is the _kaesie_, which, in various +shapes and sizes, was put to a great number of uses. It was made of +straw, bound by bent cord, like the flackie, but was of a closer texture, +and it was usually in the shape of a basket. The _meils-kaesie_ was so +called because it was made to hold a “meil” of corn—that is, a little +over a hundredweight. + +It was in these meils-kaesies that the corn was carried to the mill, and +the meal brought back from it; for carts were unknown, and roads were +but paths or tracks. Each horse carried a full kaesie on either side. +The horses travelled in single file, the head of each being tied to the +tail of the one in front. A man was in charge of each pair of horses, +to attend to the proper balancing of their loads. A train of twenty or +thirty horses marching in this way was a picturesque sight. On arriving +at the mill, the burdens were removed, and the head of the foremost horse +was tied to the tail of the hindmost, which prevented their moving away +until their drivers were ready to return home. + +Next may be mentioned the _corn-kaesie_, which was used to hold dressed +grain. These were shaped somewhat like a barrel, and were made in various +sizes. Then comes the common kaesie, used for carrying burdens on the +back. These also were of different sizes. In form they were narrow and +rounded at the bottom, and widened gradually towards the top, which was +finished by a stiff circular rim called the _fesgar_, to give firmness +to the basket. To the fesgar were fastened the ends of a bent rope of +suitable length, called the _fettle_, by which the kaesie was suspended +from the shoulders of the bearer. + +To the same class as the kaesies belong the _cubbies_, the names and uses +of which are legion. These were smaller than the former, and firmer in +texture, while the shapes showed more variety, as might be needed for +their special uses. We need only mention a few. The windo’ or winnowing +cubbie was used to pour out the corn gently on the barn floor, while the +wind blowing in at one door and out at the other carried away the chaff. +The sawin’ or sowing cubbie carried the seed corn in spring. The horse +cubbie was used as a muzzle for a horse when necessary. The hen cubbie +was suspended as a nest for the domestic fowls. The use of the spoon +cubbie, which hung by the side of the fire, needs no explanation. The +bait cubbie and the sea cubbie must close our list, the former used for +carrying bait, and the latter for the catch of fish. A cubbie was always +carried by the beggars who swarmed before the introduction of the poor +law, and to “tak’ the cubbie and the staff” was a phrase meaning to be +forced to beg one’s bread. + +We now come to what I have called inflexible articles. Here we may +mention first the _luppie_, once in universal use for holding all sorts +of dry materials, such as meal, burstin, eggs, and the like. Luppies were +round and barrel-shaped, close in texture, and as firm as a board. They +varied much in size, being made from about ten inches to three feet in +height. They had a rim round the lower end to protect the bottom, and two +“lugs” at the top. Those of the smallest size were used by housewives as +work-baskets. + +The work on these luppies, and on the straw stools to be mentioned next, +was considered the finest and most durable. Small coils or gangs of straw +were firmly and closely laced over one another. The lacing cord was of +the strongest bent, and the projecting ends of the bent were carefully +clipped off. These bands were known as _stool bands_. + +We now come to the straw stools or chairs, which were mainly of three +kinds. The first was a sort of low, round stool without any back. Such a +stool could be easily lifted to or from the fireside, and on an emergency +could be instantly converted into a luppie by simply being turned upside +down. The next was called the low-backed stool, having a semi-circular +back reaching to the shoulders of the sitter. Last comes the high-backed +or hooded stool, which was the easy-chair of the Orkney cottage. In +later times the seat was always made of wood, in the form of a square +box, with a slightly projecting top. Strips of wood were used to support +the front edges of the back, and to form elbow rests in front of these. +The seat box usually contained a drawer, in which the goodman kept his +supply of snuff, and perhaps the few books which made up the cottage +library. This form of chair, which is now regarded as the orthodox one, +was invented in the middle of the eighteenth century by a native of North +Ronaldsay, as the construction of the seat of wood took far less time +than working it all in straw; but the older form, with its circular straw +seat, and the side slips and elbow rests entirely covered with straw and +bent cords, was much more elegant in the lines of its form. + + WALTER TRAIL DENNISON. + (_Adapted from “Orcadian Papers.”_) + +[Illustration: _Making a straw-backed chair._] + + + + +THE WEATHER OF ORKNEY. + + +A foreign writer has said that Englishmen grumble more at their weather +than at anything else, while it is really the only thing about their +country of which they might be proud. His meaning is that, compared with +other regions of the world, the climate of Great Britain is singularly +free from disagreeable extremes of heat or cold, and of drought or flood. +And if this is true of Great Britain as a whole, it is especially true +of Orkney. In summer we rarely suffer from heat, and in winter we are +equally free from extreme cold. The mean temperature of the whole year in +Orkney (45·4°) is little below that of Aberdeen (46·3°), of Alnwick in +Northumberland (46·3°), or of Kew near London (49·4°). + +The equability of our temperature, or its freedom from all extremes of +heat and cold, is due to the influence of the sea. The temperature of the +ocean varies only about 13° during the year; it is lowest in February, +being 41·6°, while that of the air is 38·6°, and is highest in August, +being 54·5°, while that of the air is 54°. + +The smallness of the difference between the annual mean temperature of +Orkney and that of Kew is really due to the mildness of our winters. +Taking the mean of the three winter months, we find that of Orkney to be +almost the same as that of Kew, and slightly higher than that of Alnwick. +For the three summer months, however, Orkney is three degrees colder than +Alnwick and eight degrees colder than Kew. The hottest day in Orkney +during the last thirty years only reached 76°, while at Kew 92° was +recorded. + +The extent to which the sea influences our climate can best be seen by +comparing it with that of an inland or continental station of similar +latitude. Winnipeg, in the province of Manitoba, formerly well known to +Orkney men as Fort Garry in the Red River Settlement, lies in nearly the +same latitude as London. Its mean temperature, however, during the three +winter months is only 0·9°, or thirty-one degrees below freezing-point, +and thirty-eight degrees lower than that of Orkney; in summer it is 66°, +or thirteen degrees above that of Orkney. + +Not only is our climate ruled by the sea; it is ruled by a sea whose +waters are themselves somewhat warmer than their latitude might lead us +to expect. The temperature of the ocean is often affected by currents, +bringing water either from warmer or from colder regions. In the case of +the ocean waters round our coasts, the movement is from the south-west. +This movement is due at first to the Gulf Stream, which carries a great +mass of warm water from the Gulf of Mexico into the North Atlantic, and +afterwards to a surface drift caused by the prevailing south-westerly +winds. + +Our coast waters are therefore somewhat warmer than they would be if +there were no such movement, and much warmer than if there were a current +in the opposite direction, sweeping along the shores of Norway from the +northern ocean. If we compare our climate with that of Nain, in Labrador, +which lies in nearly the same latitude, and is also on the Atlantic +coast, we shall see how much depends upon the ocean currents. The cold +Arctic current which washes the Labrador coast, bringing with it melting +icebergs, snow, and fog, reduces the mean annual temperature of Nain to +less than 26°, more than nineteen degrees below that of Orkney. + +While the climate of oceanic islands is benefited by the equable +temperature of the ocean, it is often marked by excessive moisture and +rainfall. Yet even in this matter we shall see that Orkney has little to +complain of, while, of course, serious droughts are practically unknown. + +Scotland, though small in area, shows great inequality in the +distribution of its rainfall, due to the diversity of its surface and to +the fact that most of its rain is brought by westerly winds. Districts +near the west coast, especially if mountainous, have a much greater +rainfall than those towards the east, which are also on the whole less +elevated. Thus considerable portions of the West Highlands have an annual +rainfall of over 80 inches, Ben Nevis recording over 150. Many parts of +the eastern Lowlands, on the other hand, have only 30 inches or less; and +Cromarty, which is the driest station in Scotland, has only 23 inches. + +Compared with the mainland of Scotland, then, it does not seem that the +climate of our islands gives us much cause for grumbling, for our annual +rainfall varies from 37·7 inches at Sandwick to 30·7 at Start Point in +Sanday. Our wettest months are October, November, and December, during +which we receive from one-third to one-half of our yearly rainfall; our +driest months are April, May, and June, which together give us only +one-eighth of the total. + +One fact about rain is sometimes overlooked: in cool climates rain brings +heat. This may not be noticeable at the time, but its general effect can +be observed. Just as it requires heat to turn water into vapour, and as +evaporation always produces cold, so the change back again from vapour +into water sets free some of this heat, raising the temperature of the +air, of the rain itself, and of the land on which it falls. Much of the +warming effect of our westerly winds is due not to the direct warmth of +the Gulf Stream, as used to be supposed, but simply to the fact that +these winds are rain-carrying winds. They thus bring to us the benefit +of that solar heat which far away to the south-west caused the vapour to +rise from the surface of the ocean. + +The chief difference between our weather and that of Scotland is, +perhaps, the greater prevalence of high winds in Orkney. The land being +low, our islands are swept by the full force of the gales so common in +the North Atlantic. When speaking of winds, it may be useful to remember +the classification which is recognized by the Meteorological Office. +A wind moving at the rate of thirteen miles an hour is called a light +breeze; forty miles represents the velocity of a moderate gale, and +fifty-six miles a strong gale; seventy-five miles an hour is the speed +of a storm, and ninety miles that of a hurricane. We have the record of +only one hurricane, on November 17, 1893, with a velocity of ninety-six +miles. Several gales of over eighty miles have been experienced, and one +summer gale of seventy-five miles in the year 1890. During the fifteen +years 1890 to 1904 three hundred gales were recorded in Orkney, while +Alnwick experienced only one hundred and fifty-seven, and Valencia, on +the west coast of Ireland, one hundred and thirty for the same period. +Fleetwood, on the coast of Lancashire, however, had a record of three +hundred and six gales during those years. + +Every Orcadian must have noticed a type of weather which is common all +the year round, but especially so in winter. On a blue sky wisps of +cirrus or “mare’s-tail” cloud appear in patches. Gradually these increase +till they form a continuous haze, in which a lunar halo or “broch,” and +occasionally solar halos or “sun-dogs,” may be seen. Then the wind, which +was light and probably westerly, backs to the southward and eastward, and +the sky becomes threatening. The wind increases, perhaps to a moderate +gale, and rain falls heavily. The wind then shifts towards the south and +south-west, increasing in force, sometimes quite suddenly, or it may +change still further round towards the north. Meantime the barometer, +which has been low and falling, begins to rise briskly, and the weather +clears. + +To understand how this common series of weather changes comes about, a +little knowledge of cyclones is necessary. A cyclone is a movement in +the air resembling a whirlwind; the cyclones of the Indian Ocean and +the China seas, indeed, are real whirlwinds of the most violent and +destructive type. In the North Atlantic they exist for the most part as +enormous eddies in the great air-ocean, often several hundreds of miles +in diameter, probably rotating with the force of a gale near the centre, +and at the same time moving forward as a whole at a moderate speed. A +cyclone has been known to keep company with one of our Atlantic liners +during its whole voyage, but the rate of progress is often less than this. + +A cyclone owes its origin to some local excess of heat, such as might +arise from a heavy rainfall, the heat causing an upward movement in +the air. The inrush of cool air which then follows begins a circular +or whirling motion. The moist air in front of the cyclone gives up +its moisture with the fall in temperature, causing the rains that are +invariably found in front of such a movement. The air after the rainfall +is dry and warmer, and its ascent keeps up a partial vacuum or area of +low pressure, which is the centre or vent of the cyclone. It is really +the rainfall in front of the cyclonic system that causes its forward +movement, assisted by the rotation of the earth. Each space relieved +of its moisture forms in its turn the new centre. A coast-line, or an +anti-cyclonic movement of the air in front of a cyclone, will alter its +course. When one reaches the shores of Europe, it soon spends itself for +want of the moisture-laden winds in front to keep up the system. + +In the northern hemisphere the direction of rotation of a cyclone is +opposite to the movement of the hands of a watch; in the southern +hemisphere it is in the same direction as the movement of the hands of a +watch. This is the effect of the rotation of the earth, as will be clear +after a little thought on the matter. In the North Atlantic the forward +motion of a cyclone is always from the westward to the eastward; hence +the “storm warnings” which reach us from the United States. + +[Illustration: _Diagram of a typical Atlantic cyclone._] + +Our islands lie in the most common track of those Atlantic cyclones, and +the centre of the whirl often passes over or near the Orkneys. Now if you +will look at the chart or diagram of a typical cyclone as given here, and +suppose it to be moving slowly from south-east to north-west, or suppose +yourself to be moving through it in the opposite direction while it +remains still, you will see how the changes of wind and weather which we +have described must result from this movement. + +During the greater part of the year our weather is mainly due to a +constant procession of those Atlantic cyclones, great and small, and +hence arises the changeableness of our winds and our weather. But in +the spring we often have weather of a different type. Our winds are +then often cold, sometimes dry, and frequently easterly or northerly +in direction for several days together. Such weather is due to +anti-cyclones—that is, areas of high pressure, from which the air flows +downwards and spreads outwards in every direction. An anti-cyclone is +the opposite of a cyclone in almost every respect. Its supply of dry air +often comes from the ascending air in the centre of a cyclone, which has +deposited its moisture. At the meteorological station on Ben Nevis it +was sometimes noticed that when an anti-cyclone was stationed over the +south of England, and a cyclone was crossing the north of Scotland, there +was an upper air-current travelling from the latter to the former, and +no doubt supplying the dry air of the anti-cyclone. This is a type of +movement which is usually found over land rather than sea, and it has not +the regular forward movement of the cyclone. + +The last point which we may notice about our weather is the amount of +sunshine which we receive. At every well-equipped observatory, such as +that of Deerness, there is an instrument which records the duration of +sunshine, hour by hour and day by day, all the year round. In the matter +of sunshine, Orkney is not so badly treated as we may sometimes think. +The average number of hours of sunshine each year recorded at Deerness +is 1,177, while Edinburgh enjoys only 1,166. London is a little better, +with 1,260, while Hastings, on the more favoured south coast of England, +has an average record of 1,780 hours. Our brightest month is May, with an +average of 178 hours of sunshine, and our gloomiest month is naturally +December, with only 20·6 hours. + + + + +THE PLACE-NAMES OF ORKNEY. + + +Orkney place-names form an attractive subject of study. There is always +some reason why a certain place received its own particular name, though +that reason may often be difficult to discover. The use of a name is, of +course, to distinguish one place from other places of a similar class, +and the most obvious way of doing so is to refer to some special feature +or peculiarity of the place. In this way arise such names as the Red +Head, the North Sea, the Muckle Water, and Green Holm. Houses and farms +and islands are often named after the owner. + +When people of a different race and language settle in a country, or +when the language changes, as happened in Orkney after its annexation to +Scotland, the old names may still be used, although when their meaning +is unknown or has been forgotten they are apt to be changed in various +ways. People rarely take the trouble of inventing a new name for a place +if they can find out the name already given to it. Thus if there had +been any Celtic or Pictish inhabitants left in Orkney when the Norsemen +settled there, the Celtic names of the islands and hills and bays would +have been handed down from them to us. But all the old place-names in +Orkney are Norse, and the only Celtic elements found in them refer to the +settlements and churches of the Culdees, as we have already mentioned. + +The Norse place-names are usually descriptive, based either on the +appearance or the situation of the place, or on the name of its occupier. +Such names have an interest which is entirely wanting in the modern +names given to farms or houses, names which are often selected for +absurd or trivial reasons. There is little need for inventing any new +names in a land which has been so fully supplied with them already. For +it is not only the various islands and their most prominent physical +features that bear descriptive Norse names; hillock and meadow, field +and spring, rock, geo, and skerry—all have been named by our forefathers +with names of which the form as well as the meaning is now in many cases +forgotten. Those names should be regarded as relics entrusted to our +care, and we ought to learn them from the old people by whom they are +still remembered, and preserve them from alteration or oblivion, as the +material relics of our romantic history are now being preserved from +destruction and decay. + +_Orkney_, the general name of the island group, is partly Celtic and +partly Norse. Pliny, the Roman geographer, mentions _Cape Orcas_, +probably Duncansby Head in Caithness, and calls the islands _Orcades_. +The Celtic Scots called them the _Orc Islands_, and southern writers use +the form _Orcanig_. The root of the name is supposed to be _orc_, which +meant the bottlenose whale. The Norse visitors added the termination +_-ey_, meaning “island.” + +When the Norsemen settled in these islands, they gave to each a name +in their own language, and these names have been preserved with little +alteration, though their meaning has generally been forgotten. Some were +named from their configuration or appearance, as Hoy (_Ha-ey_), the high +island; Flotta (_Flat-ey_), the flat island; Sanday, the sand island; +Eday, the island of the _eith_ or isthmus; Burray (_Borgar-ey_), the +islands of the “brochs.” Some were named from their position, as Westray, +the west island; Auskerry, the east skerry. Some were named after +persons as Rousay, Rolf’s island; Gairsay (_Gareksey_), Garek’s island; +Graemsay (_Grimsey_), Grim’s island; Copinsay, Kolbein’s island. The name +_Rinansey_, the island of St. Ninian, often called Ringan, was afterwards +changed to Ronaldsay, with “North” prefixed to distinguish it from the +original Rognvald’s island, now South Ronaldsay. A few were named from +their uses, as Faray, the sheep island; and Hrossey, the horse island, an +old name for the Mainland (_Meginland_), or principal island of the group. + +It is very odd to find in books and on maps the Latin name _Pomona_ +applied to this last island—Pomona, the Roman goddess of harvest-plenty, +whose name was also used to indicate the fruits of the earth. The +explanation seems to be that a mistake was made by George Buchanan, +the greatest Latin scholar whom Scotland ever produced, in quoting a +passage from Solinus, an old Latin writer. Solinus, speaking of some +island which he calls Thylé or Thulé, says that it is five days’ sail +from the Orcades, and that it is large and rich in the constant yield +of its harvests (_pomona_). Buchanan, who knew much of Latin but little +of either Thulé or the Orcades, takes this to mean that “Thulé is large +and Pomona is rich and fertile,” and he concludes from this that Pomona +must be the chief island of the Orcades. Thus by a mere blunder the name +“Pomona” was given to the Mainland; but there is no good reason why +we should perpetuate this blunder. “Mainland” is the name which every +intelligent Orcadian should use. It is believed by some that the use of +the word _pomona_ itself is due to another blunder, the mistake of a +copyist, and that what Solinus really wrote was a contracted form of a +word which simply meant fruit. + +Our place-names have suffered much from the blunders of surveyors and +map-makers who knew nothing of the Norse language. Whenever they found +a name which bore some resemblance to an English word, they immediately +changed it into what they supposed to be its correct English form. A +good example of a name thus “corrected” for us is that of the place now +called “Walls.” The proper name of the district is _Waas_, and this is +the name which it should bear on the map. But the intelligent surveyors +no doubt knew that there is an English word “walls” which is pronounced +“wa’s” in Scotland, and so they assumed that the Norse place-name “Waas” +ought to be written and pronounced “Walls.” This is of course an absurd +error. “Waas” is a form of “Voes,” a name which is admirably suited to +the district, the land of the voes or bays. + +The name of our county town, Kirkwall, has been similarly disguised +by the well-meaning reforms of ignorant persons. Old people in the +islands still call it “Kirkwaa,” and this is the correct form of the +name. The Peerie Sea was called the “Kirk-voe” long before St. Magnus +Cathedral was built, the name being derived from the old church of St. +Olaf, whose doorway still exists, and this name, applied to the town, +naturally changed into “Kirkwaa.” It would probably be impossible now +to restore the old name; we can only be grateful that our map-makers +did not also turn “kirk” into the English form “church.” We may suspect +that the parish name Holm has been similarly tampered with. The local +pronunciation, which is “Ham,” indicates that the name may be derived +from _hafn_, a harbour, as in “Hamnavoe” (_Hafnarvagr_) and other cases, +but has no connection with _holm_, which means a small island. When the +meaning of _hafn_ had been forgotten, and the local pronunciation was +ignored, the name was naturally supposed to be connected with the _holms_ +which lie off the shore. + +A similar intrusion of the letter _l_ is found in _Pierowall_, and also +in _Noltland_, in Westray. The latter is sometimes, and more correctly, +written as “Notland.” The Norse name was _Nautaland_, the pasture for +“nowt” or cattle. The word _Pentland_ must be our last example of such +blunders. To the Norsemen the Scottish mainland was _Pettland_, the land +of the Picts; and even at the present day Orcadians, who have not been +misled by books and maps, still speak of the “Pettland Firth.” + +The names of farms or small districts are often very interesting. A +common termination in these is _-bister_, which represents the Norse +_bolstadr_, a farmsteading, the first part of the name usually being +derived from the name of the original owner, as in “Grimbister” and +“Swanbister,” the farm of Grim and of Sweyn. The word is connected with +_bol_, a dwelling, which still exists in our local dialect in the form +“beul,” meaning a stall in a byre or stable. Two Norse words, _bu_ and +_bær_, meaning a home or a household, give rise respectively to the +common farm name Bu, and to several names ending in _-by_, as Houseby +and Dounby. + +The termination _-ster_ or _-setter_, which is also very common, +represents the Norse word _setr_; the name _saeter_ is still used in +Norway for a summer pasture among the hills at some distance from the +farm. Several of our farms bear the name of Seatter, and the number of +compounds of this word is too large to need illustration. + +_Garth_, which meant an enclosure, is akin to the English words _yard_ +and _garden_, and is found in numerous farm names, sometimes alone, but +more frequently in compounds, where it appears as the termination _-ger_, +the _g_ being sounded hard. Other names for enclosed land were _quoy_ +(_kvi_) and _town_ (_tun_), and in almost every district we find farm +names in which these words appear. The Norse _skali_, a hall, appears +as _skaill_, either alone or as an element in compound names. There +are other common terminations which might be mentioned, all of them +significant and worthy of study, but these may suffice to illustrate how +full of meaning and interest our common place-names really are. + +We have said that the Norse word for “island” now appears as the +termination _-ay_ or _-a_. This termination, however, has in some cases a +different origin, especially where the name does not refer to an island. +Thus in the names Scapa and Hoxa the _-a_ is a contraction of _eith_, +meaning an isthmus. Scapa was _Skalpeith_, the ship-isthmus, and Hoxa was +_Haugseith_, the isthmus of the haug or howe. In the name of the island +of Sanday, the termination means “island;” in the name Sanday applied to +several places round Deer Sound, the reference is to the “Sand aith” or +isthmus already mentioned. In names of places such as Birsay and Swannay, +where a large burn is found, we may conclude that the _-ay_ represents +the Norse _-a_, meaning a river, as the _o_ does in Thurso. + +As we should expect from a seafaring race, the Norsemen have left us a +very liberal heritage of names for the various natural features of our +shores. Projecting points of land are called “ness” or “moul” or “taing,” +according to their configuration, and even the less prominent rocks +are still known as “clett” or “skerry,” or bear other names which were +originally simple descriptions of their peculiar forms. In the same way +descriptive names were applied to the water features, and every “voe” and +“sound,” every “hope” and “geo” have names which offer us a fine field +for study. + +In dealing with this last class of names, there are two Norse words +which may cause us some trouble—_hella_, a flat rock, and _hellir_, a +cave, both of which appear in place-names as _hellya_, while a third +word _helgr_, holy, sometimes assumes the same form. It is impossible to +determine what the original form and meaning of a name have been unless +we examine the place as well as its name. + +In studying our place-names, we ought to remember that the correct names +are those that are used by the old people who live in the district, not +those that are found on the map, or are used by people who adopt the +pronunciation suggested by the spelling. By means of the knowledge of a +few dozen common Norse roots, and a careful examination of the places +to which the names belong, most of our old-fashioned place-names may be +made to yield up their ancient meanings, and to throw some light upon the +past condition of the islands. When studied in this way, our place-names +are seen to be fragments of fossil history, organic remains of an early +stratum of society, as eloquent of the past as are the geological fossils +of the early ages of plant and animal life. + +[Illustration: _At the quern._] + + + + +Part III.—Nature Lore. + + + + +THE STORY OF THE ROCKS. + + +“Sermons in Stones.” + +A stone quarry is a common enough object in Orkney—so common, indeed, +that we may never have taken any interest in it. Yet this common quarry +is a place where we may learn some strange facts about the making of our +islands, if we visit it in the spirit of one who + + “Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, + Sermons in stones, and good in everything.” + +The quarrymen begin their work by clearing away the “redd” from the rock +beneath. First they remove the soil. This is dark in colour, not very +rich or deep, perhaps, and not so black as the more fertile soils of +other lands. Yet it contains the plant-food which nourishes our crops, +and thus nourishes ourselves. The particles are fine and loose, and the +soil is traversed everywhere by the small rootlets of plants. The dark +colour is due to the decayed substance of past crops of plants, which +largely consists of carbon. We must try to find out how this soil, which +is so precious to the farmer, has been formed. + +Every one knows the difference between the appearance of a new house and +that of an old one: in the former the stones of the walls are clean and +sharp, in the latter they have a weathered, time-worn look. In graveyards +the headstones recently put up have their inscriptions sharp and clear; +the older stones have their surfaces pitted, and the letters carved on +them are indistinct. Compare the old carvings and tracery on the outer +walls of our cathedral, made hundreds of years ago, with the clean-cut +masonry of new buildings which stand near it, and you will see that +stones decay with time and moulder away; they crumble into dust under the +winter’s frost and rains and the heat of the summer sun. + +So it is with all the rocks of which the surface of our islands is made +up. Year by year they moulder away. The dust or earth into which they +break down forms a soil in which plants take root and grow. The plants +push their root fibres downwards, helping to open up the cracks in the +rock; and when these roots die and decay their substance mingles with the +soil, giving it that black colour which marks old fertile soils that have +long been cultivated. + +Under the soil lies the subsoil—that is, rock which is half decayed and +partly broken up. In course of time it will become as fine as the soil +itself; for the subsoil gradually changes into soil. In wet weather the +rain, and in dry weather the wind, carry away the fine particles of earth +from the surface of the fields, and would sooner or later take away all +the fertile soil; but the continual action of the weather on the subsoil +supplies fresh material. Hence, while the old soil is constantly being +removed, new soil is forming to take its place. + +As we see in the quarry, under the soil and the subsoil there is rock. +This is true of all parts of our country; there is a rocky skeleton +beneath the thin layer of fertile soil which supports the plants and +animals. In the rocky skerries which are common along the shores we see +the nature of the rock-built framework of the islands. If the soil and +subsoil were swept away, as the waves have swept it from the skerries, it +would be plainly seen that the islands are built up of rocks. + +All the rocks of our islands, almost without exception, were laid down +under water. They consist of three different substances. One is sand, +in small rounded white or yellow grains. Another is clay, dark gray in +colour, very close grained and soft. The third is lime. + +A rock which consists mostly of sand is called sandstone. The Eday +freestone, which is much used for putting round the doors and windows +of shops and large buildings, is a sandstone. The common blue flagstone +contains clay mixed with more or less sand. The sandy beds are coarse, +gritty, and hard; the fine-grained flags contain more clay, and are +darker in colour, softer, and smoother on the surface. Nearly all the +fine flags contain lime; often it is seen in white shining crystals on +the joint-faces of the stones used in building. The presence of lime in a +soil improves it considerably. + +In different parts of Orkney the rocks differ much in appearance. In one +place we find yellow and red sandstone, in another blue and gray flags, +in another pudding-stone and granite. What is the meaning of this? It +shows that while the whole area of our islands was covered with water, +gravel was being laid down at one place, sand or muddy silt at another, +and so on. We can even make out the order in which the different layers +or strata were laid down. + +It is done in this way:—Usually the beds of rock are not now flat but +tilted, and show their edges turned up in a more or less sharp slope. If +we walk along any bare rocky shore we shall find that bed succeeds bed, +each resting on the top of all those which underlie it. No place could be +found to show this better than the shore of Hoy Sound from Stromness to +Breckness. We go on and on, crossing over bed after bed of rock, till we +have passed over the edges of a pile of flagstone which must be several +thousand feet thick. The same thing can be seen to the east of Kirkwall, +or, in fact, almost anywhere in the islands. + +Sometimes the beds dip or slant in different directions at different +parts of the shore. Then again they may be broken by cracks or faults +which bring different kinds of rock up against one another. If one could +visit the whole of Orkney and examine all the rocks, making out in what +order they follow one another, how often they are interrupted or repeated +by faults, and what is their inclination or dip, one could tell exactly +the order in which the rocks of each district were laid down on the +bottom of the old lake where they were formed. This is one of the tasks +which the geologist undertakes; and though it looks very difficult, yet +in Orkney it is quite possible to do so with pretty fair accuracy. + +What is the result? At the bottom of the whole we place the granite of +Stromness and Graemsay. This represents part of the floor of the old lake +on which the gravel and sand and mud were laid down—a part which stood +up above the water as an island. Next to this we find a thin layer of +pudding-stone. This is formed of the old gravel which gathered on the +beaches and shores around the granite island as it was slowly covered +over. Above that were laid down the flagstones of the West Mainland; +then those of Kirkwall, the East Mainland, and the North Isles; then +the yellow and red sandstones of Eday, Shapinsay, the Head of Holland, +Deerness, and South Ronaldsay. + +[Illustration: _Cliff showing horizontal strata._] + +The whole series of these rocks must be thousands of feet thick, and how +long they took to form we cannot conceive. + +Then there is a gap in the series. This means that for a time the lake +was dry land and instead of mud and sand being laid down, the rocks which +had been formed were partly washed away by rain and streams. After a long +time had passed, another lake was formed, and in it were laid down the +yellow sandstones of Hoy, which are quite different from the other yellow +sandstones of Orkney. + +When you think that each thin flagstone or layer of sandstone in our +quarry was once a sheet of mud and sand, and that it took months, no +doubt, or even years, to gather on the lake bottom, you can understand +how vast a space of time is represented by the old red sandstone of +Orkney. + + +“Books in the Running Brooks.” + +Let us now take a stroll along one of the little burns which flow between +their green or heathery banks in any of the valleys of our native +islands. These little burns are very small in comparison with the mighty +rivers of the world, yet they are quietly performing a great task, and in +the long past ages the amount of work which they have done is far greater +than you have ever imagined. + +It is summer, and the burn runs shallow and slow; the pebbles and sand +show clearly in the pools. The burn enters a little bay, and as it flows +across the shore it breaks up into several streamlets, each working its +way through the gravel. Brackish water plants grow here; the shore is +muddy, and the seaweed is often soiled with fine sediment. The burn has +brought this down, and has dropped it where it enters the sea. + +We follow the channel upwards, through flat, rich meadows, which may +be tilled, and covered with corn and other crops. In the meadow the +burn winds to and fro, and in each loop the outer side is steep, often +overhanging: under the grassy bank the trout lie hid. The inner side of +the bend is shallow, slopes gradually down to the water, and is covered +with small broken stones and gravelly pebbles. We can see that the +current is eating away the steep outer bank by undermining it, while on +the inner side the small stones are gathering. + +The meadow through which we are passing is flat, and covered with wiry +grasses which love wet situations. The stuff of which it is made can be +seen on the banks of the burn. It is a soft, dark-brown earth, almost +without stones, or with here and there a layer of pebbles. How has this +meadow been formed? The stream has done it. + +To find out how the stream made the meadow we must visit it in winter +after several days of heavy rain. Then a sheet of water covers the +meadow, making it a shallow lake. The water is very still except near the +channel of the burn; it is brown and full of mud. For some days the lake +remains, then the water begins to fall. The stream is clearer now, though +still dark with mud; good water this for the trout-fisher. A few days +more and the lake has vanished; the stream keeps within its banks, though +it is still full. + +Now look at the meadow. It is covered with a very thin film of +grayish-brown mud. In spring the grasses will grow quickly, and will be +greener than ever. The meadow is a little—ever so little—higher for the +new sheet of mud it has acquired. Winter after winter this goes on. The +brown earth which forms the meadow is flood mud. Its flat configuration +is due to its being laid down in a little temporary lake. + +Let us follow the stream still farther, and leave the meadow behind. The +channel gets steeper, and the water flows along quite merrily, faster +than in the level meadow below. The bends in the burn disappear. It is +in a hurry here and flows straight; in the flat meadow below it loiters +and swings lazily to and fro. The channel is shallow, and there are few +pools. The banks are often bare rock, or the stony clay which is produced +by the weathering of rock. The stream is washing away the clay; it even +attacks the hard rocks. + +To see how this is done you must come when the burn is swollen with heavy +rains. Then you will hear it rolling the stones along. They grind on one +another, and thus they get their rounded shape, or are broken up into +small fragments. As they are rolled along they wear away the rocks and +deepen the bed of the stream. Loose pieces are swept away, soft layers +are planed down. Many of the cracks and joints are opened and loosened, +ready for fresh attacks during the floods of next winter. + +This is where the gravel comes from. In the lower part of its course the +stream cannot move large stones, but in floodtime the smaller pebbles +are carried downwards. The big stones lie in the upper stream; they must +be broken smaller before they can be carried away. After rainy weather +you will often find that a rapid branch stream has shot a big heap of +pebbles into the main stream. When the floods rise above the surface of +the meadow they may strew sheets of little stones here and there over the +grass. + +After a big flood, if you know the stream well, you will find many +changes. Here a bank of gravel has been carried away; there a new one has +gathered. At every bend the bank shows undermining, and pieces have been +swept away. The fine stuff makes mud: part of this is laid down on the +meadow, but much of it is carried right out to sea. + +That running water will wash away sand, gravel, and mud is not new to +you. You have often seen it on the roads and in the roadside ditches, +in the little runnels around the farmhouses, or in the ploughed fields. +The burn is always doing the same thing, according to its powers. In +dry weather it does little, for its current is weak; in floods it works +rapidly. For perhaps two dozen days in a year every burn is in great +strength, and is a powerful agent in changing the form of the land. +This leads you to grasp the fact that the stream has dug out its own +channel, and that it carries rock material to lower levels, and at last +to the sea. If you know some of our burns well, and study and watch them +closely, you will find a world of interest in them. Every feature of +their channels is due to the work the flowing water is doing, and shows +the manner in which it is done. + +But what of the wide valley in which the burn flows? Other agencies have +been at work here besides the water: ice has left its mark on every +part of our valleys. But the burn has done most. On either side it is +joined by branches. Each of these is cutting its own channel, and thus +gradually deepening the valley. Each branch has its lesser branches; +together they cover the whole valley with an intricate system of water +channels. + +Between these channels, heather and grass are growing in the stony soil. +The soil, as you have learned already, is due to the decay of the rocks. +Frost and rain begin the work, and the growth of plants hastens and helps +it. Over the whole of the sloping valley sides the rocks are being broken +up into finer and finer particles. When heavy rain comes it washes away +the smaller particles, and little runnels appear which carry away the +surface water. + +Every year a portion of the soil is swept away to the meadows, or to the +mud sheets which floor the shallow sea below. None of this ever comes +back; it is sheer loss—a little at a time, but if the time be long enough +it amounts to a very great quantity. Every day since that burn began to +flow it has carried downwards a greater or smaller burden of soil. + +It took a long time for people to grasp the fact that running water is +a great earth-shaping agent. Every valley you have ever seen was made +in this way. Other things helped, but the stream was the main cause. A +valley is only a great groove eaten out of the rock. It is not due to any +earthquake or rending apart of the rocks; it is not an original feature +of the country. There was a time when there was no valley there; but from +the day the stream first began to trickle over the rocks it has gone on +deepening its channel and excavating the valley, and it is still doing so. + +The stream not only made the valley; it shaped the hills also. We +sometimes speak of “the everlasting hills.” No doubt the hills are very +old, and will last a long time. Yet the little stream is older and +mightier than they. It shaped them and brought them into being; in time +it will remove them and level them with the plain. + +Let us climb the side of a hill, and see what we can learn about it +by patient observation and inference. Any one of our flat-topped, +round-shouldered Orkney hills will do. They were all formed in the same +way, and teach the same lessons. + +[Illustration: _The Ward Hill, Hoy._] + +The ascent is gentle at first as we leave the plain or the bottom of the +valley. Then it gets steeper and steeper. Often it is like a series of +great steps—a sharp rise for a little, then a flat ledge; another sharp +rise, followed by a gentle slope, and so on. These terraces are formed +of beds of hard stone, which weather down very slowly. The softer rocks +crumble fast, and form the steep slope. All our flagstone hills show +these steps or terraces. They prove that the slope of the hillside is +determined largely by the rate at which the different rock beds wear away. + +After our stiff climb we get near the top. Many of our hills are +broad-backed. When we get above the steep part we find a flat top, and +it is often difficult to say where the actual summit is. In many places +there are great groups of hills, all of about the same height, but +separated by valleys. The Orphir, Firth, and Harray hills, the Rousay, +Evie, and Birsay hills, and the hills of Walls are all of this kind. Even +the Hoy hills show the same feature, though less clearly. In all these +cases the hilltops look like the remains of one continuous stretch of +high ground, which has been cut up into pieces by the digging out of the +valleys. The hills are the remnants of a plateau. + +This is not a mere supposition, but can be proved quite clearly. In +many Orkney hills there are beds of rock which can be identified by +the geologist by certain marks. They may contain peculiar fossils, or +they may be of a special colour or structure. In Firth and Orphir, for +example, there is a band of flagstone which yields roofing slabs. You +can follow this band from hill to hill for several miles, often by the +quarries in which it was extensively worked in former years. It occurs at +much the same level in all the different hills, though sinking somewhat +to the north according to the dip or slope of the rock bed. It is found +on both sides of the valleys, as, for example, at Finstown, at much the +same height. + +[Illustration: _The Hills of Orkney. Photographed from a Relief Model +based on the Ordnance Survey._] + +The Orkney hills, then, consist of a great pile of beds of flagstone +which once spread unbroken over the whole country. Out of this great mass +of flagstones and sandstones the running water of the burns has carved +the valley systems. The hills are the remnants which the streams have +not yet removed. As time goes on the valleys deepen and broaden, and the +hills get less and less. + + “The hills are shadows, and they flow + From form to form, and nothing stands.” + +It has taken vast ages to do this work, and the work is still going on. +It is very slow. The oldest man hardly notices any visible change in +the configuration of the country. But wind, rain, frost, and running +water are ever at work. Every day sees some loss, some material swept +away never to return. What becomes of it? It reaches the sea, and there +forms mud and sand. Time will change these into solid rock again, and may +ultimately use them in building new continents. The hills crumble into +dust, but it is “the dust of continents to be.” + + +Cliffs and Beaches. + +On looking at a map of Orkney or Shetland we are struck with the +irregularity in the shape of the islands and the winding nature of the +coast line. There must be some reason for this, and a little reflection +will bring it to light. If you look at the larger valleys you will notice +that most of them end in salt-water bays, while the hills or ridges +between the valleys run out into points or “nesses.” This is especially +the case in Shetland; but in Orkney, too, there are many instances +of it. The shape of the land extends beneath the water—the deep bay +continues the land valley, the point and the skerry mark the position of +the watersheds. + +We have seen that the valleys were eaten out by running streams. At one +time the land stood higher, and the burns flowed where now the salt +water covers the bottom of the bay. Thus the land was shaped. Then +the ground sank a little, and the sea flooded the lower grounds. The +hilltops remained above water as islands; the valleys and flat grounds +were changed into bays and sounds and firths. Think what would happen if +the land sank another hundred feet. Many of the present islands would +become shoals, and new islands would be made where the sea flowed round +the higher ground, winding out and in among them in narrow sounds and +straits, just as it does among the islands of the present day. + +Long ago Orkney and Shetland were much larger than they are at present. +Most of the North Sea was dry land, covered with trees. In several parts +of Orkney we can see trunks and roots of trees uncovered after heavy +storms have shifted the sand on the beach. These trees did not grow +beneath the sea, of course; but the land sank, and the salt water covered +the site of the old forest. + +Our wild animals, such as hares and rabbits, mice, voles, and shrews, +were not imported in boats. They were here probably before man arrived, +and they walked in on their own feet when the sea bottom was still part +of the dry land of Europe. Those who have studied this question think the +land is still sinking, or at any rate has not yet begun to rise. If it +were rising, we should find gravels and shells and sea-beaches above the +level of the present shores. Such raised beaches are found in many parts +of Scotland, but not in Orkney or Shetland. + +The shores are always changing, and every part of them bears evidence +of constant alterations. Where there are high banks or cliffs, you will +often find that pieces have fallen down; this is especially the case +where the bank consists of clay. Our Orkney rocks are very hard and our +cliffs very lasting, but in some parts of England there are villages +and churches now standing on the very edge of the cliffs which a few +centuries ago were at a considerable distance from the sea. + +It is the sea that wears away the cliffs by hammering at the rocks; +during storms the big stones on exposed beaches are rounded and worn by +the billows tossing them about and driving them against the rocks. On the +west coasts of our islands the great winter waves have enormous power; +no breakwater could resist them, and a ship which is driven ashore soon +goes to pieces. The cliffs are undermined at their base by the formation +of caves; the soft parts are eaten out into geos. Frost and rain open the +seams of the rocks and great masses tumble down; these are then tossed to +and fro until they are converted into heaps of boulders. The boulders get +less and less, and become pebbles; last of all they are ground down to +fine shingle and sand. + +Every kind of rock has its own characteristic type of cliff scenery. When +pieces are detached they separate along natural cracks which are called +“joints,” and these joints have a different arrangement in sandstone, +in granite, in serpentine, and in schist. Weathering then acts on the +exposed surface, and, if the rock is bedded, some beds are eaten away +more rapidly than others. There is much to interest us in our cliffs; +there is not a detail in their form which has not a meaning. + +[Illustration: _A sandstone cliff._] + +On wild shores where storm-waves are high we find large boulders; the +smaller ones are washed away and swept out to sea. Sometimes there is no +beach, but the cliff plunges down into deep water, for there the waves +are so powerful that they clear away all the broken rock. On sheltered +beaches we find small rounded pebbles. If we look at the stones on the +shore of a small fresh-water loch we find them scarcely rounded at all, +for the little waves cannot toss them about and rub them against one +another. + +The tear and wear of pebbles produces sand, and the sand is driven to and +fro by currents and by storms. It rests for a time in some of the bays, +but is not a fixture. A high wind drives some of it ashore to cover the +grass of the sandy links. A heavy storm may drag a great deal of it out +to sea. Unless it is held fast by bent or other plants, sand is always +moving. + +Even the stones travel along the shore, driven by the beat of the waves +in bad weather. There are stone beaches common in Orkney and Shetland +which are often called ayres, and which have behind them a salt lagoon +or oyce. The oyce opens to the sea at one end of the ayre, and a strong +tidal current flows out and in through the opening. An ayre is really +an army of stones on the march, constantly moving forward. In every bay +there is one direction from which the biggest waves come, and the stones +of the ayre have come from that direction. The opening of the oyce is at +the other end of the ayre. + +At first there was a bay with a shallow inner end. When the big waves +reach shallow water they turn over and have their speed checked. Stones +carried along the shore are dropped at the edge of the shallow water, +forming a bar. The bar goes on stretching across the bay as the storms +fetch more stones, and in time the oyce is nearly walled in. But as the +opening gets narrower and narrower the tidal flow gets stronger and +stronger There is a combat between the tidal currents and the storm +currents, and in time things are adjusted so that the speed of the +outflow is just enough to keep the opening from being closed up. + + +The Age of Ice. + +Along the burns and the seashores, and in stone quarries, we often see +banks of clay. Usually this clay is full of stones. In some places the +clay is merely the softened, crumbling top of the rock, and the stones in +it are of the same kind as the solid rock below. In other places the clay +contains stones which are quite unlike any rocks in the neighbourhood. +Sometimes these stones are very large, and they must have been carried +from some distant place, for they are of a kind of rock which is not +found in the islands. What is the history of this clay with travelled +stones, or “boulder clay,” as it is called? + +Boulder clay may be recognized by several marks. It is tough and sticky; +it shows no bedding or layers; and it may be only a few inches thick, or +it may form cliffs thirty or forty feet high. Pick a few stones out of +it: you will notice that they are not all of the same kind. Wash them +carefully in the sea or the burn. Their ends are blunt and worn, but they +are not rounded like sea-pebbles. Their surfaces are smooth, and are +covered with fine scratches, as if some one had drawn a needle or the +point of a knife along them. Nowhere except in this clay will you see +stones with these curious scratches. + +If you find the place where the bottom of the clay rests on the hard +rock, you should carefully remove a little of the clay and lay bare the +rock surface beneath. Wash it with a little water, and you will see that +it is covered with fine scratches exactly like those on the stones. Now +this smoothing and scratching of the stones and of the rock might be +explained by imagining that the clay at one time was in motion, pushed +forward by some immense force, and that the stones rubbing on one another +and on the rocky floor produced these scratches. + +Among the Alps, in Norway, in Greenland, and in other places where there +are high snow-clad mountains or a very cold climate, the snow gathers +in the valleys till it forms thick masses, and is compressed by its own +weight into ice: these masses are known as glaciers. Glaciers are really +slow-moving rivers of ice; they slip very slowly down the valley slopes, +travelling usually only a few inches in a day. When they reach the warmer +region at the base of the mountains, they melt away, leaving behind them +heaps of clay which they have swept down from the hills. The stones in +this clay are worn and smoothed and scratched exactly like those in +the boulder clays of Orkney and Shetland, and the rocks over which the +glaciers have moved are smoothed and scratched likewise. + +The boulder clay, then, is clearly a glacial deposit, formed at a time +when our islands were covered with moving sheets of ice. These ice sheets +were travelling from the North Sea towards the Atlantic, in a west or +north-west direction, for the scratches on the rock surface always have +that trend. We can often prove also that the boulders found in the clay +have travelled from the south-east. Thus at the Mont, near Kirkwall, +the boulder clay is full of red sandstone from the Head of Holland and +Inganess Bay. In Shetland stones have been carried from the east side of +the mainland right over the hills to the west shores. + +When we piece together all the evidence about this Ice Age or Glacial +Period, not only in Orkney and Shetland but in all the north-west of +Europe, we learn that it lasted a very long time, and that the North +Sea was filled with a great sheet of ice which must have been several +thousand feet thick. This ice was pushed out of the basin of the North +Sea westwards into the Atlantic by the pressure of the deep snow-cap +which covered the mountains of central Europe, and on its way it passed +over Orkney and Shetland. The broken stones and rubbish which gathered +below it formed the boulder clay. This may seem a very strange tale, +but every kind of evidence that is needed to prove its truth has been +found by those who have studied the boulder clay and the scratched rocks +beneath it. + +After the great ice sheet melted, the climate was still cold, and there +were times when snow and ice gathered on our hilltops and little glaciers +flowed down the valleys. These also have left traces behind by which you +can know where they were. In every one of the higher glens in the Orkney +hills you will find mounds of clay and stones, often forming a crescent +or bow running from side to side of the valley. They are very well seen +in Harray, Birsay, Orphir, and Hoy; but even in the East Mainland the +hills, though low, gave rise to little glaciers. In Shetland they are +almost as common as in Orkney. In many parishes there are clusters of +large and small mounds, some of them grassy and others covered with +heather, lying near the mouths of the main valleys. When these mounds +have been cut into by streams or by roads, we see that they are not +rocky hillocks but consist only of clay and stones, and that the stones +are often scratched like those in the stiff boulder clay. These mounds +are the “dumps” or moraines where the glaciers which filled the valleys +melted and dropped their rubbish. At that time our islands must have +resembled Spitzbergen, where to-day most of the hills have an ice-cap and +nearly all the valleys are filled with glaciers, some of which reach the +sea and give birth to icebergs, while others melt away and deposit lumpy +moraines over the valley bottoms. + + +Orkney Fossils. + +You cannot examine many of our Orkney flagstones carefully without +finding fossils. The most common are scales and bones of fishes. In the +rock these often appear as coal-black specks. When a fossil has weathered +for a long time, as in a stone dyke or on the seashore, it often becomes +bright blue, like a splash of blue paint. Sometimes whole fishes are +found in the gray flagstones, with every fin and every scale perfect. Of +course you will not find these every day or every year, but there are +many quarries in Orkney where you may get them occasionally. When the +quarryman uncovers a bed of rock, he often finds it sprinkled over with +great numbers of fossil fishes. + +We can picture to ourselves that, at some time long gone by, when these +flagstones were being laid down in the old Orcadian lake as sheets of +sandy and muddy silt, the fishes were suddenly killed by a volcanic +eruption, or by a period of drought, and their dead bodies covered the +muddy bottom for miles. Fresh mud then came down and buried them, and +preserved their remains. In process of time their bones and scales were +changed into the pitch-black substance which we now find in the rocks. +But we can still see that these specks and scales are really parts of +fishes. If we examine them under the microscope, we find that they have +all the marks of structure that the same parts of certain fishes have at +the present day. + +In almost every parish in Orkney there is at least one quarry which +contains good fossils, and there must be many others which we do not yet +know of. But no person who knows what a bit of fossil fish is like need +search very long among the flagstones of the shore without finding a +scale, a jaw bone, a tooth, or other relic of the fishes which lived in +Orkney at the time the flagstone muds were gathering. A heap of stones +thrown down by the roadside, for building a dyke or for mending the +roads, often contains fragments of dozens of fishes. + +It is not difficult for us to picture what these fishes were like when +alive. Some of them were about the size of sillocks or herrings, others +were as large as a big cod. They had scales all over their bodies, and +fins, supported by bony rays, just like living fishes. But though many of +them were of the same shape and general outline as a trout or a herring, +they differed from these in many ways. + +Their scales were often hard and bony, with a smooth, shining outer +layer of enamel like that which covers a tooth. Those fishes are called +_ganoids_. On their heads they had bony plates with the same hard +covering, often showing ridges and furrows, knobs, and other markings. +You may see these beautifully preserved in many of the fossil bones which +occur in the gray and blue flagstones. Those fishes belong to species +which are no longer living on the earth’s surface, but closely allied +kinds of fish are still found in a few rivers in Africa, America, and +Europe. The royal sturgeon is one of these. + +None of the fishes which are common in our seas at the present day are +ever found as fossils in rocks as old as the Orcadian flagstones. The +water of the Orcadian lake was fresh water. We know this because we find +no marine shells, and no crabs or cuttle-fishes in the flagstones, though +these kinds of animals peopled the sea at that time, and would have been +preserved as fossils if they had inhabited the lake. + +Some of the fishes in the lake were very grotesque and oddly-shaped +creatures. One of them had two curious bony arms or wings which stuck out +from its sides. It is not very common in Orkney, but is sometimes found +in quarries near Stromness, and a smaller fish of much the same shape may +be got in Deerness occasionally. They are called “winged fishes,” and are +quite unlike any fishes now living. So strange is this fossil that when +first found it was thought to be a curious beetle. + +Another strange fish was of great size; its head bones are a foot or more +in length. Pieces of the head of this fish may be seen in many parts of +Orkney, but the bones of the body were soft and rotted away after the +fish died. The back of its head was somewhat like a shovel in shape, and +the bones are often half an inch in thickness. There were two great holes +for the eyes near the corners of this shield. The back of the neck was +protected by another large plate. A specimen of this fossil can be seen +in the Stromness museum; it was called by Hugh Miller the _Asterolepis_, +or “star-scale fish,” of Stromness. + +Besides the fishes, other fossils occur in the flagstones, but not of +many kinds. At Pickaquoy, near Kirkwall, and in several other places, +very small shells, like tiny mussel shells, often cover the surface of +the beds of rock. Pieces of wood may also be seen in the flagstones; they +are flattened out and form black strips of a coaly substance, but as +they must have drifted a long distance from land, and sunk to the bottom +only when they became water-logged, they do not tell us much about the +nature of the plants which clothed the islands and the shores of the +lake. Yet we know that there were no flowers then, no grasses, or sedges, +or trees like those that now live, but only great reeds and tree-like +plants belonging to the same groups as the horse-tail that grows in +watery places and along roadsides, and the little green scaly club moss +that creeps through the heather, sending up its fruit-bearing spikes. +There were also many kinds of ferns. In the forests and swamps there were +land-snails and insects, but no frogs or lizards, still less any birds or +other warm-blooded creatures. The fishes are the highest types that then +existed; they were the “lords of creation” in that day. + +[Illustration: _“Winged fish” (Pterichthys)._] + + + + +A PEAT-MOSS. + + +Earl Einar it was, as the story goes, who first taught the Orkneyman to +make the turf into peats—Torf Einar, as he was called in memory of this +fact. If the story is true, he did a great work for the islands,—not +quite treeless in his day, perhaps, but yet in a bad way for fuel in the +long winter evenings,—and he deserves a monument almost as splendid as +that of Earl Magnus. + +The wood fires went out long ago, and the peat fires will, no doubt, +follow in due time. True, the peat-mosses are not yet exhausted, but year +by year they recede, and the road to “the hill” grows longer. There is +less time to spare now for peat-cutting than there used to be, for our +modern methods of farming require more constant labour. But through our +trade with other lands money is circulating more freely, and coal can be +bought to take the place of peat. The change means more money and less +time, and that is just the great difference between this century and +those which have gone by. + +But the peat-moss is not yet deserted, and in the early summer it is +still a busy scene in many places. Harvest has ever been a time of +joy, and peat-cutting is the harvest of the moss. The flaying-spade and +the tuskar are not mere toys, nor is “taking out” the newly-cut peats +a holiday task; but there are few scenes where more cheerfulness and +wholesome mirth can be seen than at many an Orkney peat-cutting. + +Let us approach one of these familiar “peat-banks,” not necessarily to +share in the fun, and certainly not to take part in the labour, but to +find out what we can about the substance which we call peat. Here is a +bank where the moss is deep enough to give three lengths of peat, one +above the other, besides the surface layer, which is cut off and thrown +down on the old peat ground. + +This top layer, we see, is, like ordinary turf, full of the roots of +growing plants—heather, rushes, sedges, and grasses of various kinds. +Filling up the spaces between them is a tangled mass of spongy mosses. +These mosses are the most important plants of all in the formation of +peat. + +The most common of the bog-mosses is the _Sphagnum_, a small branching +plant with thin, scaly leaves. Where there is plenty of light it is of +a vivid green, and the tops of the sprays look like tiny emerald stars. +Lower, where less light comes, the plant looks yellow and sickly, while +still lower it is black and decaying. The black substance which we call +peat is really a mass of decayed sphagnum moss. + +The upper part of our peat-bank, just below the turf which has been cut +away, is more loose and fibrous than the under part. The roots of the +larger plants may still be seen in it. The second and especially the +third peat are much closer in texture and of a deeper black colour. The +vegetable matter is more completely decayed, and if we were to compress +it sufficiently it would look very like coal. + +At one part of the face of the bank we notice a layer of a different +kind. We find the roots and parts of the stems and branches of small +trees embedded in the moss. There has been a wood here at one time—how +long ago, we cannot tell. That layer of moss which now lies above the +remains of the trees may have taken centuries to form. + +In many places we find more than one such layer of wood, separated as +well as covered by thick layers of moss. Some of the trees have been of +considerable size, too; the trunk of one found in the parish of Stenness +measured about five feet in circumference, while the moss near it was +thickly studded with the nuts which had fallen from it year after year. + +The trees whose remains have been found in our mosses include the poplar, +pine, mountain ash, birch, hazel, alder, and willow. One very interesting +fact is that the silver fir is also found, a tree which does not now +grow in Scotland, and is not found in Scottish peat-mosses, but which is +common in Norway. + +What curious tales those peat-mosses tell of the changes of climate +which have passed over our islands! At the present day it is only in our +deepest glens, as in Hoy, that we can find even small trees and bushes +growing wild. Yet at one time our islands must have been well wooded, +though it is only in the mosses that the remains have been preserved for +us to see. + +The sphagnum, again, has another story to tell. It requires abundant +moisture for its growth, and at present it can find this only in flat and +boggy ground. It is therefore only in such places that peat is now being +formed. Yet we find peat on most of our hillsides and even hilltops. This +tells of a time when our climate was much wetter than it now is, and when +sphagnum flourished everywhere. + +One more story of a different kind can be read from the peat-moss. Here +and there, as at Deersound and Widewall Bay, when the tide is out, we may +find peat-moss, and the remains of large trees among it, far down on the +beach, many feet below the level of high water, and most of it covered to +a considerable depth with the sand and gravel which form the upper beach +and the land near it. This tells clearly of a gradual sinking of the land +in the neighbourhood. When that moss was being formed, and when those +trees were growing, the shallow bay must have been dry land. + +The plants and flowers which grow on our mosses are worth more than a +passing glance. Let us look at some of them. The sphagnum we have already +mentioned; it belongs to the class of flowerless plants. The others we +shall mention are flowering plants. + +Best known of all, perhaps, is what we call heather. This name is used +for at least four different plants in Orkney. Two of these bear that +common but beautiful flower the heather-bell. One bears bells of a pale, +rose-coloured, waxy appearance; the other, which is more common, has +bells of a darker and often purplish red. The former is the cross-leaved +heath, with its little green leaves arranged in whorls of four; the +latter has its leaves in whorls of three, and is known as the fine-leaved +heath. + +The most common kind of heather is the ling, which flowers somewhat later +than the heaths. It is this plant whose spikes of tiny rose-coloured +flowers make our hillsides a purple glory in the early autumn, and whose +leaves and stems give them their familiar brown tint during the rest of +the year. A white variety is also found, the “white heather” which is +supposed to bring good luck to the finder. + +Another kind of heather is that which bears the small black berries so +well known to every young Orcadian. This plant is not a heath at all; it +is really the black crowberry. The berry is preceded by a tiny purplish +flower, which probably few of the berry-gatherers have ever seen. + +The “rashes” or rushes are a common feature of our moors. Two kinds may +be noticed, one with its flower-tuft more closely packed together than +the other. These rushes were of some use in former days. The white pith +was extracted and dried for winter use as wicks in the old oil-burning +“crusies,” before the introduction of paraffin. + +There are many smaller plants of a similar type, one of which, the bog +asphodel, ought to be well known; its pretty, yellow, star-like flowers, +grouped on a stalk some eight inches high, often make patches of our +moorlands glow with the shimmer of gold. + +The cotton-grass is probably more familiar. There are two kinds found +in Orkney, one bearing a single tuft of white down on each stem when +seeding, the other a group or cluster of tufts. This plant is not a +grass, and has no connection with the cotton plant; but the name is a +good one for all that, and no one can mistake the plant to which it +applies. + +[Illustration: _Plants of the peat-moss._ + +1. Common ling (_Calluna vulgaris_). 2. Cross-leaved heath (_Erica +tetralix_). 3. Black crowberry (_Empetrum nigrum_). 4. Cotton grass +(_Eriophorum polystachion_). 5. Grass of Parnassus (_Parnassia +palustris_). 6. Bog asphodel (_Narthecium ossifragum_).] + +One of our most beautiful moorland plants is that which bears the +attractive name, “grass of Parnassus.” This also is not a grass, and does +not in the least resemble one. It is well worth looking for and looking +at when found. From a group of dark-green, glossy, heart-shaped leaves +rises a slender stem four or five inches high, with one leaf growing on +it midway up its height. This stem bears a single cup-shaped flower as +large as a common buttercup, with five white petals marked with darker +veins. The central parts of the flower are yellowish-green. Round the +stigma stand the five stamens, and between these and opposite the petals +are five curiously shaped nectaries or honey vessels. They are fringed +with a row of white hairs, each ending in a yellow knob, and look like a +tiny golden crown placed in the centre of the flower-cup. The name of the +flower is said to be taken from Mount Parnassus in Greece, the home of +the Muses. Certainly the flower itself is dainty enough to be a favourite +with the poets. + +[Illustration: _Butterwort._] + +Some plants have developed the curious habit of eating, or, at any rate, +digesting and absorbing the juices of insects. Two of those insectivorous +plants may be found in our peat-moss. In certain places we may notice +that the thick carpet of moss is dotted with little rosettes of bright +yellowish green, which look like vegetable star-fishes scattered over +a beach of moss. That is one of our “plants of prey.” It is called the +butterwort. + +From the centre of the rosette rises a slender stalk of two or three +inches, bearing a small dusky purple flower somewhat like a dog-violet. +The green leaves which form the rosette are stiff, and lie close to the +ground, as if to keep a clear space among the other plants. They curl +up at the edges, and look as if they did not want to mingle with their +kindred round about; and indeed they do not, for they have other game in +view. + +Attracted by this bright green star, a small insect comes in search, +perhaps, of honey. He finds the leaf covered with a sticky fluid, and his +touch causes more of the fluid to come out of little pores in the leaf. +The insect is held fast, and the gum clogs up the pores of his body so +that he cannot breathe. He soon dies. Then the plant pours out an acid +liquid, which dissolves all the soft parts of the captured insect, and +leaves only the skeleton. At the same time this dissolved or digested +food is sucked in by the pores of the leaf. + +The acid juice of the butterwort is so like the juice of the animal +stomach, that in Lapland the people used to pour warm milk over +butterwort leaves, and thus changed it into a curd, just as we do by +adding to the milk some rennet, made from the stomach of a calf. + +[Illustration: _Sundew._] + +On this same patch of moor we may find another flesh-eating plant. +This is smaller than the last, and less easily found. It has a slender +flower-stalk with a spike of small whitish flowers rising from the centre +of a curious group of leaves. The leaves lie flat on the ground; they are +small and round, no larger than split peas, and covered with bright red +hairs that look like tiny red pins stuck in a tiny green pin cushion. + +Each of these hairs carries at its tip a bead of clear fluid, which +glitters in the sun; hence the plant is called the sundew. Let any +thirsty insect come to drink this dew, and a strange thing happens. +He finds his feet held fast by the sticky dewdrops, and the more he +struggles the more of these does he rub against. He is held fast until he +is suffocated, and then he is digested and absorbed by the leaf. + +When the fly alights on the plant, the hairs begin to bend in towards the +centre of the leaf. Even those hairs which have not been touched bend +over until all of them are helping to hold fast the prey and dissolve it +with their liquid. If the insect alights near the edge of the leaf, he +is thus carried towards the centre and held fast, while the leaf itself +bends so as to form a cup for the acid that pours from the hairs. If two +insects alight on the same leaf, the hairs form into two groups, those +near each animal curving towards him, so that the leaf acts as if it had +two hands. In this way all the insects that come are attended to. + +There are many other curious plants to be found in the peat-moss, but +those we have mentioned will suffice to show how much of interest there +is in our bleak mosses and moors. + + + + +SOME COMMON WEEDS. + + +What is a weed? We may best describe it, perhaps, as a plant growing in +the wrong place. A weed is not necessarily ugly, or harmful, or even +useless. Many common weeds are very beautiful, and some of them are very +useful; but if they are growing where we wish something else to grow, +we call them “weeds,” and root them out, or try to do so. Grass in our +hayfields and meadows is a valuable plant; grass in our flower-borders or +turnip-fields is a weed. So when we speak of weeds, we do not mean any +special class of plants, but only those which force themselves upon our +notice by springing up where we wish something else to grow. + +Many of our common weeds are very interesting plants to the botanist. +They have to fight for their lives; and the way in which they scatter +their seeds, and the power of those seeds to lie dormant for years +waiting a chance to grow, are well worth study. It is a war between the +farmer and wild nature, and when we look over our fields and pastures in +spring and summer we see clearly enough that the farmer is not always the +victor. In many a cornfield the oat crop seems to be merely incidental, +while the hardier children of nature flourish in spite of its intrusion. + +This is not as it ought to be. Even if they are otherwise harmless, the +weeds use up a large part of the plant food in the soil, and they rob the +young oats of the necessary light and air. In this way weeds prove an +expensive crop to the farmer. It pays him to study their life-history so +as to learn how they may be eradicated, and to spend some labour in the +task of doing so. + +A common pest in the Orkney cornfields is the “runcho” or “runchic,” +known elsewhere by the name of charlock or wild mustard. Its pale-yellow +flowers overtop the growing oats, and their unwelcome gleam makes some +fields conspicuous for miles around. The form of the flower shows that +the charlock belongs to the same family as the turnip and the cabbage +and the fragrant wallflower of our gardens. The flower has four petals, +and the cross-like arrangement of its six stamens, four long and two +short, has given them their name of _Cruciferæ_, or cross-bearers. The +seed-vessels, like those of the turnip, are in the form of a long, narrow +pod with a partition running down the middle. The seeds are small and +hard, and they grow only in a freshly-stirred soil with plenty of light +and air. When a field is laid down in grass they make no sign of life, +but when it is ploughed for the next crop of oats they spring up once +more, and make it as gay as a flower-bed. Two kinds of this plant are +found—the one, charlock, of a light yellow colour, common in peaty and +clayey ground; and the other, wild mustard, of a deeper yellow, found in +sandy soil. + +[Illustration: _Some common weeds._ + +1. False oat grass. 2. Chickweed. 3. Ragwort. 4. Prunella. 5. Wild +mustard (_Brassica Sinapis_). 6. Charlock (_Raphanus Raphanistrum_). 7. +Corn spurrey. 8. Sheep’s sorrel. 9. Common sorrel.] + +Another showy weed is the yellow corn-marigold. This handsome flower +seems more dainty in its choice of soil, and in some districts it is +not common. A glance at the open flower shows its kinship to the “wee, +modest, crimson-tipped” daisy. The so-called flower is not one, but a +host of tiny flowers or florets growing upon a broad green disc called +the receptacle. This compound or composite type of flower is found in a +large number of common plants, named on this account _Compositæ_. Many of +them are found in Orkney, and they are a very interesting as well as a +numerous family. + +One of the best known is the dandelion, a more beautiful flower than +many which we grow in our gardens, and only its abundance prevents our +admiring it. If we examine the florets of the dandelion, we see that +each of them has a corolla forming a long yellow ribbon on the side +farthest from the centre of the flower. In the corn-marigold only the +outer florets have this ribbon, which forms a halo of rays round the +central portion. In the daisy these rays are white, with the tips pink, +especially underneath. + +A well-known feature of the dandelion is the white down which it produces +when in seed—a wonderfully beautiful arrangement for spreading its seeds +far and wide to find room to grow. This is a common method of broadcast +sowing among the Compositæ family. The thistles, which form a well-known +section of that family, depend largely on their floating seeds in their +struggle against the farmer. Some farmers seem to forget this fact, for, +crowded in some corner of an old pasture, or in serried ranks by roadside +and ditchside, we may see those armed foes allowed to blossom and send +forth thousands of winged seeds to overrun the neighbouring fields, +and even the neighbouring farms. A few hours’ work with a scythe would +prevent the mischief. There might well be laws to prevent the careless +spreading of weeds as there are to prevent the spreading of infectious +disease among animals. + +One of the Compositæ family is a common weed in Orkney pasture fields—the +“tirsac” or ragwort. This is a coarse, vigorous plant, with a tough +stalk about two feet in height, crowned with a spreading tuft of yellow +daisy-shaped flowers. In fields where this weed is allowed to grow and +multiply, it soon comes to occupy a large proportion of the whole area, +and this means a considerable loss in the grazing value of the pasture. + +The large family of the grasses includes some of the plants most useful +to the farmer. All the grain crops, such as wheat, barley, and oats, are +cultivated grasses, as are also the plants which are used for pasture and +for hay. There are some wild grasses, however, which are very persistent +and troublesome weeds. Some of these, like couch grass, spread more by +creeping underground stems than by seeds. A common grass in Orkney is +that known as “swine-beads,” from the knotted form of its underground +stems. Its common name is false oat grass. It resembles small black oats, +but is much taller. Cartloads of its beaded stems may be gathered from +some fields when being prepared for turnips, and by so doing much trouble +may be saved. + +When a field is laid down in turnips or potatoes, the weeds have a hard +struggle for life. Those of slow growth are checked by the ploughing and +grubbing and harrowing, and later by the hoe and the scuffler. Yet there +are a few which in a moist season spring up quickly and soon cover the +drills. The common spurrey, with its narrow, sticky leaves growing in +whorls, and its tiny white flowers which open only in the sun, is perhaps +the best known. The chickweed is another common weed in such fields. +These, however, if kept down at first by the hoe, are of too feeble +growth to injure the crop among which they strive to find a living. + +Sheep’s sorrel and common sorrel, both commonly known as “sooricks,” were +more harmful half a century ago than they are at present. Cultivation and +the rotation of crops have reduced their quantity, but their enormous +power of spreading can be witnessed in a poor, thin, or peaty soil, where +the crops, especially grass, are meagre. There they spread, and sometimes +with such vigour that they push every other plant aside. Both kinds of +sorrel are common. The one with arrow-shaped leaves is called common +sorrel; that with spear-shaped leaves, sheep’s sorrel. Their leaves, +which have a very acid taste, often turn reddish. + +Another common and pretty little flower is prunella or self-heal. Whorls +of green bracts and violet flowers form a dense, short spike. It grows +from four to six inches high, and is to be met with on dry soils, and +although fairly common in oats, flourishes best in second year’s grass. +It is one of the large order of _Labiates_, a group which includes +the dead-nettle and the hemp-nettle, and when abundant it is a clear +indication of the exhaustion of some ingredients of the soil—often +lime. When fields are brought to a high state of cultivation, or are +near enough the seashore to get an abundant supply of sand, it almost +disappears; but when they are impoverished, it soon returns. + +These are only a few of the weeds which every farmer knows well. They are +worth study, for it is only when we know how they grow and spread that we +are able to prevent their increase. The cultivation and manuring of the +soil and the sowing of seeds are only one side of the farmer’s work; he +has to remove the wild growth as well as to promote the growth of what he +sows. Otherwise his fields will bear two crops at a time, one of nature’s +sowing and one of his own, and of these two the natural crop is likely to +be the more flourishing. + +[Illustration] + + + + +HOME LIFE ON THE ROCKS. + + +Guillemots. + +Nothing is more interesting than to look down from the summit of some +precipice on to a ledge at no great distance below, which is quite +crowded with guillemots. Roughly speaking, the birds form two long rows, +but these rows are very irregular in depth and formation, and swell here +and there into little knots and clusters, besides often merging into or +becoming mixed with each other, so that the idea of symmetry conveyed is +of a very modified kind, and may be sometimes broken down altogether. +In the first row a certain number of the birds sit close against and +directly fronting the wall of the precipice, into the angle of which +with the ledge they often squeeze themselves. Several will be closely +pressed together, so that the head of one is often resting against the +neck or shoulder of another, which other will also be making a pillow of +a third, and so on. Others stand here and there behind the seated ones, +each being, as a rule, close to his or her partner. There is another +irregular row about the centre of the ledge, and equally here it is to +be remarked that the sitting birds have their beaks pointed towards +the cliff, whilst the standing ones are turned indifferently. There are +generally several birds on the edge of the parapet, and at intervals one +will come pressing to it through the crowd in order to fly down to the +sea, whilst from time to time others also fly up and alight on it, often +with sand-eels in their beaks. On a ledge of perhaps a dozen paces in +length there may be from sixty to eighty guillemots, and as often as they +are counted the number will be found to be approximately the same. + +[Illustration: _Guillemot._] + +Most of the sitting birds are either incubating or have young ones under +them, which, as long as they are little, they seem to treat very much as +though they were eggs. Much affection is shown between the paired birds. +One that is sitting either on her egg or her young one—for no difference +in the attitude can be observed—will often be very much cosseted by the +partner who stands close behind or beside her. With the tip of his long, +pointed beak he, as it were, nibbles the feathers (or, perhaps, scratches +and tickles the skin between them) of her head, neck, and throat; whilst +she, with her eyes half closed, and an expression as of submitting to an +enjoyment—a “Well, I suppose I must” look—bends her head backwards, or +screws it round sideways towards him, occasionally nibbling with her bill +also amidst the feathers of his throat, or the thick white plumage of +his breast. Presently she stands up, revealing the small, hairy-looking +chick, whose head has from time to time been visible just peeping out +from under its mother’s wing. Upon this the other bird bends its head +down and cossets in the same way—but very gently, and with the extreme +tip of the bill—the little tender young one. The mother does so too, and +then both birds, standing side by side over the chick, pay it divided +attentions, seeming as though they could not make enough either of their +child or of each other. It is a pretty picture, and here is another one. + +A bird—we will think her the female, as she performs the most mother-like +part—has just flown in with a fish—a sand-eel—in her bill. She makes her +way with it to the partner, who rises and shifts the chick that he has +been brooding over from himself to her. This is done quite invisibly, as +far as the chick is concerned, but you can see that it is being done. + +The bird with the fish, to whom the chick has been shifted, now takes it +in hand. Stooping forward her body, and drooping down her wings, so as +to make a kind of little tent or awning of them, she sinks her bill with +the fish in it towards the rock and then raises it again, and does this +several times before either letting the fish drop or placing it in the +chick’s bill—for which it is I cannot quite see. It is only now that the +chick becomes visible, its back turned to the bird standing over it, and +its bill and throat moving as though swallowing something down. Then the +bird that has fed it shifts it again to the other, who receives it with +equal care, and bending down over it, appears—for it is now invisible—to +help or assist it in some way. It would be no wonder if the chick had +wanted assistance, for the fish was a very big one for so small a thing, +and it would seem as if he swallowed it bodily. After this the chick +is again treated as an egg by the bird that has before had charge of +him—that is to say, he is sat upon, apparently, just as though he were to +be incubated. + +On account of the closeness with which the chick is guarded by the parent +birds, and the way in which they both stand over it, it is difficult to +make out exactly how it is fed; but I think the fish is either dropped at +once on the rock, or dangled a little for it to seize hold of. It is in +the bringing up and looking after of the chick that one begins to see the +meaning of the sitting guillemots being always turned towards the cliff, +for from the moment that the egg is hatched one or other of the parent +birds interposes between the chick and the edge of the parapet. Of course +I cannot say that the rule is universal, but I never saw a guillemot +incubating with its face turned towards the sea, nor did I ever see a +chick on the seaward side of the parent bird who was with it. + +I observed that the chick—even when, as I judged by its tininess, it had +only been quite recently hatched—was as alert and as well able to move +about as a young chicken or partridge; but whilst possessing all the +power, it appeared to have little will to do so. Its lethargy—as shown +by the way in which, even when a good deal older, it would sit for hours +without moving from under the mother—struck me as excessive; and it would +certainly seem that on a bare, narrow ledge, to fall from which would be +certain death, chicks of a lethargic disposition would have an advantage +over others who were fonder of running about. + +The young guillemot is fed with fish which are brought from the sea in +the parent’s bill, and not—as in the case of gulls—disgorged for them +after having been first swallowed. It is, however, a curious fact that +the fish when thus brought in are, sometimes at any rate, headless. The +reason of this I do not know, but with the aid of glasses I have made +quite certain of it, and each time it appeared as though the head had +been cleanly cut off. Moreover, on alighting on the ledge the bird always +has the fish (a sand-eel, whenever I saw it) held lengthways in the beak, +with the tail drooping out to one side of it, and the head part more or +less within the throat—a position which seems to suggest that it may have +been swallowed or partially swallowed—whereas puffins and razor-bills +carry the fish they catch crosswise, with head and tail depending on +either side. + +[Illustration] + +I have once or twice thought that I saw a bird which just before had +no fish in its bill all at once carrying one. But I may well have been +mistaken; and it does not seem at all likely that the birds should +usually carry their fish, and thus subject themselves to persecution, +if they could disgorge it without inconvenience. With regard to the +occasional absence of the head, perhaps this is sometimes cut off in +catching the fish. + + +Seals. + +Quite near to where I watch the guillemots there is a little iron-bound +creek or cove, walled by precipice, guarded by mighty “stacks,” and +divided for some way into two by a long rocky peninsula running out from +the shore. On the rocks in one of these alcoves were lying eight seals, +which were afterwards joined by another, making nine, whilst in the +adjoining one were four—also, as it happened, joined by another, as I +watched—making fourteen in all: such a sight as I had never seen before. + +[Illustration: _Common seal._] + +I watched these seals of mine on this, my first meeting with them, for +a considerable time from the top of the cliffs—the glasses giving me a +splendid view—and soon knew more about them than I had done before, and +got rid of some popular errors. For instance, I had always imagined that +seals had one set attitude for lying on the rocks—namely, flat on their +bellies—a delusion which every picture of them in this connection had +helped to foster. Imagine my surprise and delight when it burst upon +me that only some three or four were in this attitude, and that even +these did not retain it for long. No; instead of being in this state of +uninteresting orthodoxy, they lay in the most delightful free-thinking +poses, on their sides, showing their fine, portly, columnar bellies in +varying degrees and proportions; whilst one utter infidel was right and +full upon his broad back, yet looked like the carved image of some old +Crusader on the lid of his stone sarcophagus. Every now and then they +would give themselves a hitch, and bring their heads up, showing their +fine round foreheads and large mild eyes; a very human—mildly human—and +extremely intelligent appearance they had, looking down upon them from +above. Again, they had the oddest or oddest-appearing actions, especially +that of pressing their two hind feet or flippers together, with all their +five-webbed toes spread out in a fan, with an energy and in a manner +which suggested the fervent clasping of hands. Then they would scratch +themselves with their fore feet lazily and sedately, raising their heads +the while, looking extremely happy, having sometimes even a beatific +expression. And then again they would curl themselves a little and roll +more over, seeming to expatiate and almost lose themselves in large, +luxurious ease—more variety and expression about them lying thus dozing +than one will see in many animals awake and active. + +Even in this little time I learnt that they were animals of a finely +touched spirit, extremely playful, with a grand sense of humour, and +filled “from the crown to the toe, top-full” of happiness. Thus one +that came swimming up the little quiet bay, in quest of a rock to +lie upon, seemed to delight in pretending to find first one and then +another too steep and difficult to get up on (for obviously they were +not), and would fling himself from off them in a sort of little sham +disappointment, gambolling and rolling about, twisting himself up with +seaweed, and generally having a most lively, solitary romp. A piece of +bleached spar, some four or five feet long, happened—and I am glad that +it happened—to be floating in the water at quite the other side of the +creek and, espying it, this delightful animal swam over to it, and began +to play with it as a kitten might with a reel of cotton or a ball of +worsted. More frolicsome, kitten-hearted, and withal intelligent play I +never saw. He passed just underneath it, and, coming up on the opposite +side, rolled over upon it, cuffed it with one fore foot, again with +the other, flipped it then with his footy tail as he dived away, and +returning, in a fresh burst of rompiness, waltzed round and round with +it, embracing it, one might almost say. At last, going off, he swam to a +much steeper rock than any he had made-believe to find so difficult, and, +scrambling up it with uncouth ease, went quietly to sleep in the best +possible humour. + +What intelligence all this shows! Much more, I think, than the sporting +of two animals together. This seal was alone, saw the floating spar at a +distance, and swam to it with the evident intention of amusing himself in +this manner. Later, another seal played with this same spar in much the +same way; yet both of them seemed to be quite full-grown animals. + +Then I saw something which looked like a spirit of real humour, as well +as fun. Three seals were lying on a slab of rock together, and one of +them, raising himself half up, began to scratch the one next him with +his fore foot. The scratched seal—a lady, I believe—took it in the most +funny manner, a sort of serio-comic remonstrance, shown in action and +expression: “Now do leave off, really. Come now, do leave me alone”—and +when this had reached a climax the funny fellow left off and lay still +again; but as soon as all was quiet, he heaved up and began to scratch +her again. This he did—and she did the other—three times, at the least, +and if not to have a little fun with her I can hardly see why. + + +Shags. + +Now I have found a nest with the bird on it, to see and watch. It was +on a ledge, and just within the mouth of one of those long, narrowing, +throat-like caverns into and out of which the sea, with all sorts of +strange, sullen noises, licks like a tongue. The bird, who had seen me, +continued for a long time afterwards to crane about its long neck from +side to side or up and down over the nest, in doing which it had a very +demoniac appearance, suggesting some evil being in its dark abode. + +[Illustration: _Shag._] + +As it was impossible for me to watch it without my head being visible +over the edge of the rock I was on, I collected a number of loose flat +stones that lay on the turf above, and, at the cost of a good deal of +time and labour, made a kind of wall or sconce with loopholes in it, +through which I could look and yet be invisible. Presently the bird’s +mate came flying into the cavern, and wheeling up as it entered, alighted +on a sloping slab of the rock just opposite to the nest. For a little +both birds uttered low, deep, croaking notes in weird unison with the +surroundings and the sad sea-dirges, after which they were silent for a +considerable time, the one standing and the other sitting on the nest +_vis-à-vis_ to each other. At length the former, which I have no doubt +was the male, hopped across the slight space dividing them on to the +nest, which was a huge mass of seaweed. There were now some more deep +sounds, and then, bending over the female bird, the male caressed her by +passing the hooked tip of his bill through the feathers of her head and +neck, which she held low down the better to permit of this. The whole +scene was a striking picture of affection between those dark, wild birds +in their lonely wave-made home. + +The male bird now flies out to sea again, and after a time returns +carrying a long piece of brown seaweed in his bill. This he delivers to +the female, who takes it from him and deposits it on the heap, as she +sits. Meanwhile the male flies off again, and again returns with more +seaweed, which he delivers as before; and this he does eight times in the +space of one hour and forty minutes, diving each time for the seaweed +with the true cormorant leap. Sometimes the sitting bird, when she takes +the seaweed from her mate, merely lets it drop on the heap, but at +others she places and manipulates it with some care. All takes place in +silence for the most part, but on some of the visits the heads are thrown +up, and there are sounds—hoarse and deeply guttural—as of gratulation +between the two. + +The nest of the shag is continually added to by the male, not only while +the eggs are in process of incubation, but after they are hatched, and +when the young are being brought up. In a sense, therefore, it may be +said to be never finished, though for all practical purposes it is so +before the female bird begins to sit. That up to this period the female +as well as the male bird takes part in the building of the nest I cannot +but think, but from the time of my arrival on the island I never saw the +two either diving for or carrying seaweed together. Once I saw a pair of +birds together high up on the cliffs, where some tufts of grass grew in +the niches. One of these birds only pulled out some of the grass, and +flew away with it, accompanied by the other. + +It is not only seaweed that is used by these birds in the construction +of the nest. In many that I saw grass alone was visible, though I have +no doubt seaweed was underneath it; and one in particular had quite +an ornamental appearance, from being covered all over with some land +plant having a number of small blue flowers; and this I have observed +in other nests, though not to the same extent. I think it was on this +same nest that I noticed the picked and partially bleached skeleton—with +the head and wings still feathered—of a puffin. It had, to be sure, a +sorry appearance to the human—at least to the civilized human—eye, but +if it had not been brought there for the sake of ornament, I can think +of no other reason; and brought there or at least placed upon the nest +by the bird it must almost certainly have been. The brilliant beak and +saliently-marked head of the puffin must be here remembered. Again, +fair-sized pieces of wood or spar, cast up by the sea and whitened by +it, are often to be seen stuck amongst the seaweed, and on one occasion +I saw a bird fly with one of these to its nest and place it upon it. In +all this, as it seems to me, the beginnings of a tendency to ornament the +nest are clearly exhibited. + +Both the sexes share in the duty and pleasure of incubation, and (as in +some other species) to see them relieve each other on the nest is to see +one of the prettiest things in bird life. The bird that you have been +watching has sat patiently the whole morning, and once or twice, as it +rose in the nest and shifted itself round into another position on the +eggs, you have seen the gleam of them as they lay there “as white as +ocean foam in the moon.” At last, when it is well on in the afternoon, +the partner bird flies up and stands for some minutes preening itself; +while the one on the nest, who is turned away, throws back the head +towards it, and opens and shuts the bill somewhat widely, as in greeting, +several times. The new-comer then jumps and waddles to the farther side +of the nest, so as to front the sitting bird, and sinking down against it +with a manner and action full both of affection and a sense of duty, this +one is half pushed, half persuaded to leave, finally doing so with the +accustomed grotesque hop. It has all been done nearly in silence, only +a few low, guttural notes having passed between the birds whilst they +were close together. Just in the same way the birds relieve each other +after the eggs have been hatched, and when the young are being fed and +attended to. + +A shag is sitting on her nest with the young ones, whilst the male stands +on a higher ledge of the rock a yard or so away. He now jumps down and +stands for a moment with head somewhat erected and beak slightly open. +Then he makes the great pompous hop which I have described before, coming +down right in front of the female, who raises her head towards him, and +opens and closes the mandibles several times in the approved manner. The +two birds then nibble, as it were, the feathers of each other’s necks +with the ends of their bills, and the male takes up a little of the grass +of the nest, seeming to toy with it. He then very softly and persuadingly +pushes himself against the sitting bird, seeming to say, “It’s my turn +now,” and thus gets her to rise, when both stand together on the nest +over the little ones. The male then again takes up a little of the grass +of the nest, which he passes towards the female, who also takes it, +and they toy with it a little together before allowing it to drop. The +insinuating process now continues, the male in the softest and gentlest +manner pushing the female away, and then sinking down into her place, +where he now sits, whilst she stands beside him on the ledge. As soon as +the relieving bird has settled itself amidst the young, and whilst the +other one is still there—not yet having flown off to sea—it begins to +feed them. Their heads—very small, and with beaks not seeming to be much +longer in proportion to their size than those of young ducks—are seen +moving feebly about, pointing upwards, but with very little precision. +Very gently, and seeming to seize the right opportunity, the parent +bird takes first one head and then another in the basal part, or gape, +of his mandibles, turning his own head on one side in order to do so, +so that the rest of the long bill projects sideways beyond the chick’s +head without touching it. In this connection, and while the chick’s head +is quite visible, little, if any, more than the beak being within the +gape of the parent bird, the latter bends the head down and makes that +particular action as of straining so as to bring something up which one +is familiar with in pigeons. This process is gone through several times +before the bird standing on the ledge flies away, to return again in a +quarter of an hour with a piece of seaweed, which is laid on the nest. + +As the chicks become older they thrust the head and bill farther and +farther down the throat of the parent bird, and at last to an astonishing +extent. Always, however, it appeared to me that the parent bird brought +up the food into the chicks’ bills in some state of preparation, and +was not a mere passive bag from which the latter pulled fish in a +whole state. There were several nests all in unobstructed view, and so +excellent were my glasses that, practically, I saw the whole process as +though it had been taking place on a table in front of me. The chicks, on +withdrawing their heads from the parental throat, would often slightly +open and close the mandibles as though still tasting something, in a +manner which one may describe as smacking the bill; but on no occasion +did I observe anything projecting from the bill when this was withdrawn, +as one would expect sometimes to be the case if unmodified fish were +pulled up. Always, too, the actions of the parent bird suggested that +particular process which is known as regurgitation, and which may be +observed with pigeons, and also with the night-jar. + +Young shags are at first naked and black, also blind, as I was able to +detect through the glasses. Afterwards the body becomes covered with a +dusky gray down, and then every day they struggle more and more into +the likeness of their parents. They soon begin to imitate the grown-up +postures, and it is a pretty thing to see mother and young one sitting +together with their heads held stately upright, or the little woolly +chick standing up in the nest and hanging out its thin little featherless +wings, just as mother is doing, or just as it has seen her do. At other +times the chicks lie sprawling together either flat or on their sides. +They are good tempered and playful, seize hold playfully of each other’s +bills, and will often bite or play with the feathers of their parent’s +tail. In fact, they are a good deal like puppies, and the heart goes out +both to them and to their loving, careful, assiduous mother and father. + +When both birds are at home, the one that stands on the rock, by or +near the nest, is ready to guard it from all intrusion. Should another +bird fly on to the rock and alight, in his opinion, too near it, he +immediately advances towards him, shaking his wings, and uttering a low +grunting note which is full of intention. Finding itself in a false +position, the intruding bird flies off; but it sometimes happens that +when two nests are not far apart, the sentinels belonging to each are +in too close a proximity and begin to cast jealous glances upon one +another. In such a case neither bird can retreat without some loss of +dignity, and, as a result, there is a fight. + +I have witnessed a drama of this nature. The two locked their beaks +together, and the one which seemed to be the stronger endeavoured with +all his might to pull the other towards him, which the weaker bird, on +his part, resisted as desperately, using his wings both as opposing props +and to push back with. This lasted for some while, but the pulling bird +was unable to drag the other up the steeply-sloping rock, and finally +lost his hold. Instead of trying to regain it, he turned and shuffled +excitedly to the nest; and when he reached it, the bird sitting there +stretched out her neck towards him, and opened and shut her beak several +times in quick succession. It was as if he had said to her, “I hope you +observed my prowess. Was it well done?” and she had replied, “I should +think I did observe it. It was indeed well done.” On the worsted bird’s +ascending the rock to get to his nest, the victorious one ran, or rather +waddled, at him, putting him to a short flight up it. This bird was also +cordially received by his own partner, who threw up her head and opened +her bill at him in the same way, as though sympathizing, and saying, +“Don’t mind him; he’s rude.” In such affairs, either bird is safe as soon +as he gets within close distance of his own nest; for it would be against +all precedent, and something monstrous, that he should be followed beyond +a charmed line drawn around it. + + EDMUND SELOUS. (_From “Bird Watching” and “The Bird-Watcher + in the Shetlands.” J. M. Dent and Co. By permission._) + + + + +THE BIRDS OF SULE SKERRY. + + +Sule Skerry is a tiny, barren, surf-bleached islet, lying far out in the +open ocean, thirty-two miles west from Hoy Head, about the same distance +from Cape Wrath, and thirty miles from the nearest land, Farrid Head, +in Sutherlandshire. The Skerry, roughly rhomboidal in outline, is about +half a mile in length and a quarter of a mile in its greatest width, and +attains a height of only forty-five feet in its central part. All round +the shore is a belt of bare, jagged rock, where the wash of the great +Atlantic waves prevents any vegetation from finding a foothold, and of +the thirty-five acres or so which form the entire area of the island only +some twelve are covered with a mossy, vegetable soil. + +Lying, as it does, right in the track of trading vessels, this low +islet, together with the Stack, which rises to a height of more than a +hundred feet some four and a half miles to the south-westward, formed +a death-trap to many a ship, which was, no doubt, afterwards merely +reported as “missing,” and its shores when visited were rarely found +without some stranded wreckage to tell of the unrecorded tragedies of +the winter seas. It was not till the year 1892 that steps were taken to +mark this dangerous rock, but three years later saw the completion of +Sule Skerry Lighthouse, a massive tower of a hundred feet in height, with +a powerful light visible for a distance of eighteen miles. + +Sule Skerry is no longer either a dangerous or a lonely islet when +compared with its former state. The three lightkeepers who are always +on duty, together with their goats, poultry, and rabbits, give quite +an inhabited air to the place—probably too much so for the comfort of +the original occupants, the flocks of birds which find on it either +a permanent home or a temporary dwelling-place. Sule Skerry is an +ideal place for observation of the birds which frequent our islands, +both from the immense numbers of them which nest there, and from the +absence of high cliffs or inaccessible rocks. Luckily for us, one of the +lightkeepers formerly on this station, Mr. Tomison, a native of Orkney, +was a man unusually well qualified for such observation, and he has +recorded much that is of interest regarding the bird life of the Skerry. +From one of his papers on this subject we quote the following interesting +pages. + +[Illustration: _Sule Skerry Lighthouse._] + + +The Residenters. + +The birds of Sule Skerry may be divided into three classes—the +residenters, the regular visitors, and the occasional visitors. The class +of residenters is represented by the great black-backed gull, the herring +gull, the shag or green cormorant, and the meadow pipit. + +[Illustration: _Great black-backed gull._] + +The great black-backed gull is one of the handsomest birds of the gull +family, but owing to its destructive propensities amongst small birds, +rabbits, and occasionally young lambs, a continual warfare has been +waged against it for years by farmers and gamekeepers, until now it is +almost entirely banished to the outlying parts of the country. Before +the lighthouse was erected on Sule Skerry, large numbers of this species +frequented the island; but the lightkeepers found them such arrant +thieves that they reduced their numbers considerably. There are still +about twenty pairs resident on the island all the year round, and they +seem to find plenty of food either on land or at sea. Their breeding-time +is in May, and sometimes as late as June. When the young are hatched the +parents are continually on the lookout for food, and I have often seen +them swoop down and seize young rabbits. Frequently they make desperate +efforts to capture the old rabbits, but never successfully. They lay +three eggs in a nest composed of withered grass, and the process of +incubation lasts about four weeks. + +[Illustration: _Herring gull._] + +A small colony of herring gulls stays on the island all the year round, +but in summer vast flocks of them are in evidence when the herrings are +on the coast. Only the residents remain to breed, and about a dozen +pairs annually rear their young and spend their whole time in the +vicinity. Some of the young must emigrate to a more genial climate, for +although rarely disturbed their numbers are not increasing. They lay +three eggs early in May, and sit about four weeks. When hatched, the +young immediately leave the nest, and are so like the surrounding rocks +in colour that when they lie close it is almost impossible to discover +them. When hunting for food for their offspring, these gulls are almost +as great a pest as their cousins, the great black-backed, and are more +audacious thieves. + +The most numerous of the residenters are the scarfs. In summer and winter +they are always on the island, and apparently there is an abundant supply +of suitable food in the vicinity, for they never go far away. During +winter they congregate on the rocks in large flocks or colonies, and they +have become so accustomed to man’s presence that they fly only when one +approaches within a few yards of them. In very stormy weather they seek +refuge in some sheltered spot, far enough away from the coast-line to +be safe from the encroaching waves, and only when frightened by any one +approaching too near do they choose what is, in their opinion, the lesser +of two evils, and seek safety in flight. With the advent of spring they, +like all other birds, turn their thoughts to love. Their comparatively +homely winter dress gradually changes to one more appropriate to this +sentiment and more in harmony with the imposing surroundings. Early in +the year their plumage assumes a greener tint, and the graceful tuft +or crest on the top of the head becomes more and more prominent. This +crest practically disappears about the end of June, and seems to be a +decoration in both sexes only during the nuptial season. Usually they +manage to get through with their love-making and selecting of partners +by the middle of March, after which the operations of nest-building are +undertaken. + +In Orkney we associate a scarf’s nest with some almost inaccessible +cliff, but such is not the case on Sule Skerry, for the simple reason +that there are no cliffs. The nests are built all over the island, but +principally near the coast-line; and the sociableness of the bird’s +disposition shows itself in this fact, that they tend to crowd their +nests together in certain selected spots, to which they return year after +year. One place in particular, a patch of rough, rocky ground from forty +to fifty yards square, I have named the scarf colony on account of its +numerous population during the breeding season. Here in 1898 I counted +fifty-six nests. + +As to the materials used for nest-building, these are principally seaweed +and grass, but the scarf is not very particular as to details, and uses +anything that will suit the purpose. I have found pieces of ordinary +rope, even wire rope, and small pieces of wood used, and a very common +foundation is the skeleton of a rabbit which has died during the winter. +During building operations I have observed that one bird builds and the +other brings the materials. After all has been completed, three, four, +and sometimes five eggs are laid. Three is the most common number; five +is rare. During incubation the one bird relieves the other periodically. +It is a common sight to see one come in from the sea, sit down at the +edge of the nest, and hold a long palaver with its mate. The sitting bird +then gets up and flies out to sea, the other taking its place. + +When the young come out of the egg they are entirely naked, of a dark +sooty colour, and particularly ugly. Towards the end of the first week of +their existence a coating of down begins to grow, followed by feathers in +about three weeks. As near as I can judge from observation, the bird is +fully fledged in five weeks from the time of hatching. + +[Illustration: _Meadow-pipit._] + +The only other residenter is the meadow-pipit, tit-lark, or moss-cheeper. +It is the only small bird that remains on the island all the year round. +It nests generally in May, and lays five or six eggs. It is said that +two broods are raised in the season, but I have never noticed that here. +Towards the end of summer they are to be seen in considerable numbers, +but in September and October the island is visited by kestrels, who soon +thin them down. + + +The Regular Visitors. + +The regular visitors are puffin, razor-bill, common guillemot, black +guillemot, oyster-catcher, tern, eider duck, kittiwake, stormy petrel, +curlew, snipe, turnstone, and sandpiper. In this list I have advisedly +placed first the puffin, or tammynorie, or bottlenose, or coulterneb, +or pope, or sea-parrot, for it is a well-known and well-named bird. In +point of interest it undoubtedly takes the first place among all our +feathered friends. Its remarkable appearance, its activity, its assertive +disposition, and the regularity of its habits, compel the attention of +the most careless observer. + +[Illustration: _Puffin._] + +At one time puffins were much in demand for food. An old history of the +Scilly Islands tells us that in 1345 the rent of these islands was three +hundred puffins. In 1848, on account of the bird having got scarcer, and +consequently more valuable, the rent was fifty puffins. We are also led +to understand that the young birds, being plump and tender, were more +highly esteemed than their more elderly and tougher relatives. + +The most remarkable feature of this curious bird is its beak, the +peculiarities of which are its enormous size compared with the size of +the body, and its brilliant colours—blue, yellow, and red. For a long +time it was a puzzle that occasional dead specimens found washed ashore +in winter had a beak very much smaller and destitute of bright colours. +It has now been ascertained that the outer sheath is moulted annually, +being shed on the approach of winter and replaced at the return of the +breeding season. + +To give any idea of their numbers on Sule Skerry is an almost impossible +task, for when they are on the island they are hardly ever at rest. The +air is black with them, the ground is covered with them, every hole is +tenanted by them, the sea is covered with them. They are here, there, and +everywhere. + +They first make their appearance early in April, and spend from eight to +twelve days at sea before landing, coming close in round the island in +the forenoon and disappearing at night. Before landing they fly in clouds +round the place, and after having made a survey to see that all is right, +they begin to drop in hundreds, till in half an hour every stone and rock +is covered. They do not waste time, but start at once to clear out old +holes and make new ones, and for burrowing they can easily put a rabbit +in the shade. Those who are not engaged in digging improve the shining +hour by fighting, and for pluck and determination they are hard to beat. +They are so intent on their work that I have often seized the combatants, +and even then they were unwilling to let go their hold of each other; but +when they do, it is advisable for the person interfering to let go also, +if he would avoid a rather unpleasant handshake. + +After spending a few hours on the island they all disappear, and do not +usually land again for two days; but when they do come back the second +time there is no ceremony about their landing. They come in straggling +flocks from all points of the compass, and resume their digging and +fighting. They continue in this manner, never remaining ashore all +night till the first week of May. They spend very little time on the +construction of their nests, which consist merely of a few straws. The +greater number burrow in the dry, peaty soil, and their holes will +average at least three feet underground; but there are also an immense +number that lay amongst loose rocks and stones on the north side of the +island. The eggs laid there are always clean and white until the young +bird is hatched; but those laid underground in a day or two become +as brown as the soil, and seem more like a lump of peat than an egg. +During the time of incubation, which lasts a month, those not engaged in +hatching spend their time in fishing and resting on the rocks, and as a +pastime indulge in friendly sparring matches. + +One easily knows when the young are hatched by seeing the old birds +coming in from sea with herring fry or small sand-eels, which are carried +transversely in their bills, from six to ten at a time. The sole work of +the parent birds for the next three or four weeks is fishing and carrying +home their takes to the young. Very little time is given to nursing. +They remain in the hole just long enough to get rid of their burden, +and then go to sea again. As the young ones grow, the size of the fish +brought home increases. At first it is small sand-eels from one and a +half to two inches long, but at the end of a fortnight small herrings and +moderate-sized sand-eels are the usual feeding. I noticed an old bird fly +into a hole one day with a bigger fish than usual, and, to see what it +was, I put in my hand and pulled out both birds. The tail of the fish was +just disappearing down the young one’s throat, but I made him disgorge +his prey, and found it to be a sand-eel eight inches long. How that small +bird could find room for such a dinner was really wonderful. + +At first the young are covered with a thick coating of down, and probably +their appearance at this stage has given rise to the name “puffin,” +meaning a “little puff.” In a fortnight the white feathers on the breast +begin to show, and the birds are fully fledged in four weeks, when they +at once take to the water. As soon as they go afloat, young and old leave +the place, and about the middle of July one can easily see that their +numbers are decreasing, the end of August usually seeing the last of them. + +[Illustration: _Razor-bill._] + +There is a considerable colony of razor-bills on the island. Their time +of arrival is about the same as that of the puffin, but they make no +commotion when they come. They seem to slip ashore, and always keep near +the coast-line, ready to fly to sea when any one approaches. They begin +laying towards the end of May, and lay one egg on the bare rock, usually +under a stone, but in some cases on an exposed ledge. During incubation +one bird relieves the other, for if the egg were left exposed and +unprotected the black-backed gull would very soon appropriate it. Some +authorities say that the male bird brings food to its mate; but I have +never observed this, though I have watched carefully to see if such were +the case The young remain in the nest, or, to speak more correctly, on +the rock, for about two weeks if not disturbed, and I have seen a young +one remain ashore until covered with feathers, which would mean about +four weeks from the time of hatching. They all, young and old, leave +early in August. I am sorry to say they are becoming scarcer every year, +chiefly on account of their shyness and fear of man. + +The common guillemots are scarce. Their great haunt in this vicinity is +the Stack. There they are to be seen in myriads on the perpendicular side +of the rock facing the west. Only two or three pairs take up their abode +on the island; in fact their numbers scarcely entitle them to be called +Sule Skerry birds. The few young ones I have seen are carried to the +water as soon as they are hatched—at least they disappear the same day. + +Black guillemots or tysties are plentiful. Their time of arrival is about +the middle of March, but they are rarely seen ashore before the end of +April. Their nests are to be found in out-of-the-way crevices or under +stones, and are not easily discovered on account of the extraordinary +watchfulness of the birds and their care not to be caught on or near +their nests. They lay two eggs, and the young are fully feathered before +going afloat. They remain about the island till the end of September. + +[Illustration: _Oyster-catcher._] + +The first of all the visitors to arrive are the oyster-catchers. They +first put in an appearance about the end of February, when their +well-known cry denotes that the long, dreary winter is over. They spend +their time till the end of March chiefly feeding along the coast-line; +but after that time they pair, and are seen all over the island. About +the end of May they lay three eggs in a nest composed of a few small +stones; and when the young are hatched the noise of the old birds is +perfectly deafening on the approach of an intruder, and even when no one +is annoying them the clamour they make almost amounts to a nuisance. +On calm, quiet nights it is hardly possible to sleep for them, and one +feels inclined to get out of bed and shoot them down wholesale. The young +leave the nest as soon as hatched, and are rarely seen, for on hearing +the warning cry of the parent bird they at once hide among the long +grass or under stones, and on one occasion I found a pair some distance +underground in a rabbit’s hole. They all leave the island during the +first half of September. + +Next to the puffins in numbers are the terns—the Arctic terns. They are +also like the puffins in the regularity of their arrival at the island. +When first seen they are flying high up, and they continue doing so for a +day or two, only resting at night. There are several varieties of terns +scattered all over the British Isles, but in the north the most numerous +are the Arctic and the common tern. The latter rarely visits the island. + +[Illustration: _Arctic tern._] + +There are certain localities where the terns take up their abode, and +they stick closely to the same ground year after year, never by any +chance making a nest twenty yards outside their usual breeding ground. +They begin to lay in the first week of June, but I have found eggs on +the last day of May. They lay two eggs, and sometimes three. When the +young are hatched the parents are kept busy supplying them with food, +which consists chiefly of sand-eels and herring fry. Their method of +fishing is to hover over the water, not unlike the way a hawk hovers +when watching its prey, and when they see a fish to make a dart on it, +rarely if ever failing to make a haul. They also prey on worms when +it is too stormy for fishing at sea. On a wet evening, when the worms +are having an outing, the terns are to be seen in hundreds all over +the island, hovering about six feet above the ground, every now and +again making a dart down, and, when successful, flying home with their +catch to the young. No time is lost, for the old bird seldom alights +when handing over the worm. It swoops down to where the young ones are +standing with outstretched necks and bills gaping, screaming out to let +their whereabouts be known, and then flies off again for more. When the +young are able to fly they accompany their parents over the island, and +occasionally do a little hunting on their own account. + +About the first of August the young are fully fledged. Young and old then +assemble from all parts of the island to a piece of bare rocky ground on +the north-east corner, which they make their headquarters for about ten +days, flying out to sea for food, but always returning at night. About +the fifteenth of August they all disappear, and are seen no more till the +following May. + +[Illustration: _Stormy petrel._] + +The island is the headquarters of a large colony of stormy petrels. It +is not an easy matter to fix the exact date of their arrival, for they +are never seen during the day, and only come out of their holes at night. +They are first seen in the latter end of June, when on a fine clear night +one can see them flitting about close to the ground, very like swallows +in their movements. They begin to lay in July, and their nests are to be +found under stones and in rabbits’ holes. Almost the only way to find +them is to listen for their peculiar cry, which they keep up at intervals +the whole night through. If captured during the day, they seem quite +dazed when released, and at once fly into some dark place. The date of +their departure, like that of their arrival, is not easily fixed, but I +think it is during September. Young birds have been got on the lantern at +night as late as the end of September, but never in October. + +[Illustration: _Eider duck (male)._] + +The eider duck is a regular visitor, and a considerable flock make Sule +Skerry their headquarters for about eight months in the year. They are +first seen in March fishing off the island, but they very rarely land +before the end of April. In May they may be seen ashore every day, but +always near the water, ready to pop in if alarmed. They are very shy and +difficult to approach. In June the duck and the drake both come ashore +and select a place for their nest, and that is the only occasion on which +the drake takes a part in the hatching process. So far as my observation +goes, I have never seen him approach his mate during the month of +incubation. + +The nest is built sometimes on a bare rock, but more commonly among +grass, and consists of coarse grass for a foundation, the famous down +being added only as the eggs are laid. Five or six is the common number +found in one nest. From the time it begins to sit until incubation is +completed, the duck never leaves the nest unless disturbed, and will only +fly to sea if driven off. If approached quietly, it will allow one to +stroke it, and does not seem afraid. There are always one or two nests +close to the house, and though I have watched them closely at all hours, +night and day, I have never seen the birds go away for food, nor have I +seen their undutiful spouses bring any to them. I will not venture to +say that the duck lives a month without sustenance, but I am strongly +inclined to that belief. When frightened away, it goes only a short +distance, and returns immediately as soon as the cause of its fright has +been removed. + +[Illustration: _Eider duck on nest._] + +The whole inside of the nest is lined with down, which seems to be +intended only for the purpose of keeping the eggs warm. It is certainly +not intended to form a cosy nursery for the young, as they leave for the +sea a few hours after birth and do not return. Unless the down is removed +before the young are hatched it is useless, for it gets mixed up with the +egg-shells, which are always broken into very small pieces. After leaving +the nest the young birds rarely come ashore again, but remain afloat, +feeding along the edge of the rocks on mussels and crustaceans. The old +birds disappear in October, but some young ones remain till the end of +November. + +[Illustration: _Kittiwake._] + +Few kittiwake gulls visit the island, but these come regularly, and take +up their abode on the same ground year after year. They arrive in April, +and about the first of May begin nest-building, a work which keeps them +employed for about three weeks. They begin laying about the end of May, +and lay three eggs. The young are fully grown before leaving the nest, +and are fed by both the parent birds. They all leave the island about the +end of August, and not even a straggler is seen till the following spring. + +[Illustration: _Curlew or whaup._] + +I have now gone over all the birds that breed on Sule Skerry, and come +next to the regular winter visitors, consisting of the curlew, the snipe, +the turnstone, and the common sandpiper. + +About a dozen curlews or whaups make the island their home for about nine +months of the year. They leave about the end of May and return in August, +remaining on the island all winter. Their number always keeps about the +same—twelve or fifteen. They have the same characteristics as those found +elsewhere—their extraordinary alertness and their peculiar cry—but they +are distinctly less shy than is usually the case in other parts of the +country. They are never disturbed in any way, and the result is that, if +any one wished, it would be an easy matter to get within gunshot of them. +Their chief food is worms and insects, of which there is a plentiful +supply on the island. + +When the curlews leave the island, a few whimbrels take their place, and +remain about six weeks. They breed in Orkney and Shetland, but though +they remain on the island most of the breeding season I have never yet +found a nest. I have spent many an hour watching them from the light-room +with the glass to see if they were sitting, and have gone over the ground +where they are most frequently seen, but could never find an egg or any +attempt at nest building. They are very much like the curlew in general +appearance, only much smaller. + +[Illustration: _Snipe._] + +The snipe leaves the island in May, and is absent about four months, +usually returning in October. None, so far, have ever nested on +Sule Skerry, and they all go elsewhere for that purpose. There is a +considerable number of them resident during the winter, larger in some +years than in others. They sometimes get killed by dashing against the +lantern at night, but it is not often they fly so high. + +[Illustration: _Turnstone._] + +The turnstone always spends the winter on the island, arriving about +the end of August or the first of September, and from then on till +April it spends its time feeding on insects. On Sule Skerry it is in +no way afraid of man, but rather the opposite, for it depends a good +deal on the lightkeepers for its livelihood in stormy weather. Whenever +the lightkeepers go to feed their hens, the turnstones gather from all +parts of the island and sit round at a respectful distance—about a dozen +yards—waiting for their share, which they receive regularly every day, +and they seem to enjoy it very much. The lightkeepers often turn over +big stones to enable the hens to feed on the insects which are there +in immense quantities. The turnstones have learned the meaning of this +operation, and whether the hens are present or not, they soon gather +round for a feast when one retires a short distance. A few specimens of +the common sandpiper always accompany them, but they feed more amongst +the seaweed along the coast-line, and are more afraid of the approach of +man. + +[Illustration: _Sandpiper._] + + +Occasional Visitors. + +We now come to the third class, the occasional visitors. These are the +wild goose, the mallard or stock duck, the teal, the widgeon, the Iceland +gull, the Sclavonian grebe, the heron, the kestrel, the hooded crow, +the rook, the lapwing, the golden plover, the redshank, the corncrake, +the water rail, the fieldfare, the redwing, the snow-bunting, the +starling, the song thrush or mavis, the blackbird, the water-wagtail, the +stonechat, the woodcock, the skylark, the twite or mountain linnet, the +robin, the swallow, the black-headed gull, and the little auk. + +Wild geese pass the island on their way south in October, but very rarely +rest. Occasionally a flock will hover round for some time, but the sight +of a human habitation scares them away, and they continue on their way in +the direction of Cape Wrath. Last October half a dozen were seen resting +on the island one morning about eight o’clock. They seemed to be feeding +in one of the fresh-water pools, but all they would find there would not +fatten them. Sule Skerry is a very likely place for them to call at, as +it is right in their track when on the way to and from Iceland and Faroe, +but perhaps the island being inhabited causes them to give it a wide +berth. At any rate very few of them ever honour it with a visit. + +[Illustration: _Mallard._] + +The mallard pays the island frequent visits during the winter, two and +three at a time. They never stay long, for there is very little feeding +for them. They are particularly shy, resting only on the most outlying +parts, and seeming continually on the watch. Teal and widgeon are not +common. Of the former one sees a specimen or two every winter, while of +the latter only two have visited the island, and that was in March 1897, +when they stayed a few days. + +In November 1895 an Iceland gull arrived on the island, and remained to +the end of February following. It became fairly tame, sitting the greater +part of the day near the house on the watch for any scraps of meat that +were thrown out. Hopes were entertained that it intended remaining +permanently on the island, but on the approach of the breeding season it +departed. In 1898 one stayed for a week in November; in the following +year another was seen on the 23rd of November. This one was fishing in +company with some common gulls, and occasionally flew over the island +quite close to the tower; but I did not see it alight, nor was it seen +again on any of the following days. + +[Illustration: _Heron._] + +The common heron every year spends a day or two on the island, generally +in October or November, but it never seems at home. They wander about +in search of food, but apparently do not find very much. When leaving +the island they always, without exception, fly in the direction of Cape +Wrath, but where they come from I cannot say, never having noticed them +arriving. + +The hooded crow is an annual visitor, generally in November, and it +sometimes comes for a short visit in April. Two or three is the common +number at one time. There is, however, not much food for them, and on +that account their visit is soon over. A few rooks call about the same +time. + +Every year in April the lapwings make the island a resting-place, +staying from a week to a fortnight. The place does not seem to suit them +for nesting purposes, for I have never seen them make any attempt at +nest-building. After resting and renewing their strength, they seek out +some more hospitable part of the country. Small flocks of the golden +plover also rest on the island on their passage north in March and April, +and again on their way south in October and November, staying from eight +to twelve days. There are also a few straggling visitors during the +winter. + +The common redshank is a frequent visitor, staying perhaps a week at a +time, but it never nests on the island. In 1896 a corncrake’s well-known +song was heard during the greater part of June. It was heard again the +following season, but never since. The bird, however, is occasionally +seen in summer. The only way I can account for its silence is that the +goats and rabbits never allow the grass to grow to any length, and thus +there is no cover for it. I think most ornithologists are now satisfied +that this bird migrates to a warmer climate every year on the approach of +winter. Whether such is the case or not I do not feel prepared to say, +but from my experience of Sule Skerry I am quite satisfied it is only a +summer visitor there, and does not remain on the island all winter. The +water-rail pays the island a visit every winter, but I do not think +there is any danger of its being mistaken for the corncrake. They are a +little like one another in shape, but they are two distinct species, and +easily recognized. + +[Illustration: _Water-rail._] + +In October and November the island is visited annually by considerable +numbers of fieldfares, redwings, blackbirds, rock-thrushes, starlings, +and woodcocks. They generally stay from a week to a fortnight, and are +more numerous some years than others. Water-wagtails are rare visitors, +seen at various times of the year. Stonechats are also rare visitors, +only staying a few days in May. The skylark, so common everywhere else, +is a very rare visitor, and is only seen or heard once or twice during +the summer months. Robin redbreast is always seen in the autumn, and +generally stays a few weeks if the weather is moderate. The twite or +mountain linnet pays an occasional visit in summer, and stays for some +time; but I have never yet found a nest, and cannot say if it breeds on +the island. In June every year a few sparrows spend a fortnight on Sule +Skerry. Snow-buntings almost deserve the name of regular winter visitors, +for from October to March they are seldom long absent. + +Last September I got a bird which I knew to belong to the grebe family, +but I could not be sure of its proper name, and I sent it to Mr. Harvie +Brown for identification. He informed me it was a Sclavonian grebe, a +bird not very common in this part of the country. In November 1897 I +found a dead specimen of the little auk. + +[Illustration: _Solan goose._] + +Though not a Sule Skerry bird, the solan goose deserves notice in this +paper. The Stack, distant four and a half miles, has been their chief +breeding place in Orkney for ages, and every year it is tenanted by +immense numbers. The rock is 140 feet high, rising perpendicularly on +the west, but sloping gradually from the water to the summit on the +east side. It is on this slope that the solans congregate, and no other +bird is allowed to trespass on their preserves. In May, June, July, +and August their numbers are so vast that any one seeing the rock at a +distance would imagine it was painted white or composed of chalk. Sule +Skerry, however, is too far distant to allow of one forming any idea +of their numbers, but looking at them with the glass one sees the rock +simply covered, and apparently as many flying about as resting. Lewis men +visit the place annually in August, and carry away a boatload of young +birds. Last year they came up to the rock, but there was too much surf +for a landing, and as the weather was threatening they headed for the +Sutherlandshire coast. That night the wind blew half a gale, and fears +were entertained that it would prove too much for them, for their boat +was small and hardly powerful enough to be so far from home; but a few +days later they again approached the rock. They again failed to negotiate +it, and after waiting for about an hour they made sail for home, and did +not return. The weather certainly favoured the solans on these occasions. + +I have never seen a solan resting on Sule Skerry; they even carefully +avoid flying across the island, though they fish in immense numbers all +round, and sometimes within forty or fifty yards of the shore. They +usually begin to arrive in the vicinity about the end of January, and +their numbers continue to increase until the end of April, when they take +possession of the rock, and from then until the end of August their name +is legion. When the young are fledged, they gradually disappear, and from +the first of December till the last days of January they are not to be +seen. + +Thus they go on year after year, a fraction of that great feathered +multitude which has come and gone since the earliest ages, and will +probably continue to come and go as long as the world lasts, some +arriving and departing in silence, others heralding their coming and +going with the wildest clamour. On this subject, and speaking of the +northern isles, Thomson the poet says:— + + “Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, + Boils round the naked melancholy isles + Of farthest Thule, and the Atlantic’s surge + Pours in amongst the stormy Hebrides; + Who can recount what transmigrations there + Are annual made? what nations come and go? + And how the living clouds on clouds arise, + Infinite wings! till all the plume-dark air + And rude resounding shore are one wild cry?” + + J. TOMISON + (_“Orcadian Papers.”_) + +[Illustration] + + + + +COMMON SEAWEEDS. + + +A severe storm has been raging for several days on our shores, and no +ship has dared to cross the Pentland. To-day a great calm has fallen upon +the face of the waters, and the sun shines clear in the sky. A walk by +the seashore on such a morning will afford an excellent opportunity for +collecting specimens of our seaweeds, and for studying their life-history. + +Here they lie in all their varied colours, strewn on the beach like +autumn leaves in a forest. Now is our chance to secure some of those rare +and beautiful weeds that grow in the deeper water, and have been torn +off and driven ashore by the waves. If pressed and dried with care, they +will remain things of beauty for long. For this purpose we use squares of +stiff paper or card, on which we spread them out carefully under water. +When pressed, they will adhere to the paper by means of the mucilage +which they contain. + +[Illustration: _Common seaweeds.—I._ + +A, _Sargassum_ (Gulf-weed), B, _Cladophora_. C, _Enteromorpha_. D 1, +_Fucus vesiculosus_. D 2, Receptacle of same, with eggs and sperms. D 3, +Egg, with sperms. E, _Polysiphonia_.] + +The delicate fern-like or feathery fronds of those red seaweeds will +compare in beauty with the best of our flowering plants. This is all +the more wonderful when we consider their lowly origin. For the family +of the _Algæ_, to which the seaweeds belong, is the oldest and most +primitive of all the families of plants. To the Algæ most likely +belonged the first forms of life which appeared on the earth. + +If we are fortunate to-day we may find a specimen of the famous Gulf-weed +(_Sargassum_), which gives its name to the Sargasso Sea, and which is +said to have cheered Columbus on his celebrated voyage of discovery. In +the tropical Atlantic it covers immense areas of the ocean, and it is +occasionally cast ashore on the Orkney coasts, drifted hither by the Gulf +Stream and the westerly winds. It is easily recognized by its numerous +little round air-bladders, each on a separate branch. + +Now let us turn our attention to the seaweeds which we find growing +on the beach around us. In many a rock pool in the “ebb” we may see +a miniature forest of tiny weeds of beautiful colours and forms, a +veritable ocean garden. Near high-water mark we find here and there +in the pools pretty green algæ, some with broad, flat fronds, such as +the sea-lettuce (_Ulva_), and others with slender branching feathery +filaments (_Cladophora_). Many of the green algæ, however, prefer to live +in fresh water. If you make an aquarium, you will find the sea-lettuce +and the sea-grass (_Enteromorpha_) of great value in keeping the water +pure, owing to the amount of oxygen which they give out. + +Farther down on the beach the rocks are covered thickly with algæ of an +olive-brown colour. The rocks, indeed, would fare much worse in a storm +if the seaweeds were not there to protect them, as the grass protects the +soil of the fields. + +Look more closely at those big brown sea-wracks and you will notice +that the most common kind (_Fucus vesiculosus_) has little globular +air-bladders arranged in pairs along its flat, smooth-edged fronds. Each +blade has a distinct midrib, and where it divides, like all the Fucus +group, it splits into two equal branches. On some of the little end +branches you may see a yellowish swelling dotted over with minute knobs +and pores. These swellings are receptacles for holding the eggs and +sperms, which are contained in tiny cavities under each projecting knob. +Many seaweeds produce their fruit in winter, when the land plants are +sleeping and the fields are bare. + +The microscopic sperms correspond to the pollen and the eggs to the +ovules of the flowering plants. But there is one wonderful difference. +The sperms of the Fucus can move about freely by means of two little +projecting threads or cilia. When the tide is out, both eggs and sperms +come to the door of their little houses by the help of the mucilage in +which they float; and when the sea comes back swarms of these sperms swim +away and wriggle about, till one of them comes in contact with an egg. It +adheres to and fuses with the egg, which thus becomes fertilized, and is +then able to give rise to a young plant. A similar process goes on in all +the plants of the Fucus group. + +Here is one with notched or serrated edges (_Fucus serratus_), and +without air-bladders; there another well known to every schoolboy as the +“bell tang” (_Fucus nodosus_), with large air-bladders in the centre +line of the frond, and yellow fruit-bodies each on a branch of its own, +without any trace of midrib. + +The air-bladders of the seaweeds are natural buoys, by means of which +the plants are kept erect in the water. The mucilage which makes them so +slippery to walk over is of the utmost importance, as it protects them +from drought when they are left uncovered by the tide. Seaweeds are very +simple in their structure, and have no true roots, stems, or leaves. They +do not need such organs, for every part of their body is in contact with +the water which contains their food-supply. + +What are those tufts of reddish-brown threads growing all over the fronds +of this Fucus? That is a red seaweed (_Polysiphonia_), which often +makes its home under the shelter of a more hardy plant. In the red algæ +the sperms have no cilia, and cannot move about of themselves, but the +eggs have each a long thread, corresponding to the stigma of the higher +plants, and against this thread the sperms are driven by currents of +water. + +The little Fucus known as “teeting tang” (_Fucus canaliculatus_) ought +not to be passed unheeded. It is often much relished by sheep and cattle. +You may know it by its greenish-brown colour and by the distinct groove +on one side all along its length. It is found only in the upper part +of the “ebb”. Another interesting plant of this group may be found on +the large rocks nearer low-water mark. It is called the “sea-thong” +(_Himanthalia lorea_), because its fructification grows out from a +button-shaped base into long, forked, thong-like branches. + +[Illustration: _Common seaweeds.—II._ + +F, _Fucus canaliculatus_. G, _Himanthalia lorea_. H, _Laminaria +digitata_. I, _Rhodymenia_. K, _Chondrus crispus_. L, _Porphyra_.] + +If the tide is far out, we shall be able to see the tops of the +“red-ware” standing out of the water, and some of the tangles will be +quite dry. These tangles belong to the _Laminaria_ group, the giants +among the seaweeds. They contain a large amount of iodine in their +composition, and that is why they are used for the manufacture of kelp. +Notice how firmly they cling to the sea-bottom by their strong holdfasts, +which have weathered many a storm. + +An interesting feature in this group is their manner of growth. The +growing region lies at the junction of the stalk with the blade. You +will often find a specimen in which the old blade is being pushed away +on the end of the young one, ready to be broken off and cast adrift by +the waves. The stalk itself is perennial, but in some kinds of Laminaria +(_Laminaria digitata_, for example) the blade is usually torn into shreds +before it is thrown off. + +A well-known ally of the tangles is the “merkal,” also called +“honey-ware.” You can tell it by the prominent midrib and the broad, thin +wing on each side, running all its length. This is one of the edible +seaweeds. Do you see this bright red palmate plant growing under the +shelter of the tangles? It is the common dulse (_Rhodymenia palmata_), +which may often be seen for sale on the streets of our cities. Examine +it well and taste it, and you will be able to recognize it in future, +however much it may vary in form or colour. But do not eat too much of +it, for it is said to be somewhat indigestible. + +Another edible seaweed which has been widely used as an invalid food +may be found in the lower part of the “ebb,” often under the shelter of +larger plants. This is the Irish moss or carrageen (_Chondrus crispus_). +It is fleshy and pink in colour. A jelly is made from it which is +considered a great delicacy. + +The purple laver (_Porphyra_) is perhaps the most valuable of the +seaweeds as a food, and is said to sell at a high price in Yokohama. In +form it resembles the sea-lettuce. Many other marine algæ have been used +as food, and none of them are poisonous. In North Ronaldsay the sheep +seem to esteem them highly as food. + +The most important use of seaweed is to serve as food for various +kinds of molluscs, crustaceans, and fishes. The “plankton” of the +sea-surface—minute one-celled algæ—are very important in this way. What +grass is to the land animals, the marine algæ are to the living creatures +of the sea. When driven ashore by the waves, or when cut down by the once +familiar “hook,” the larger seaweeds are much used as manure for field +crops. They thus repay the debt they owe for any portion of their food +that may have come originally from the dry land. + +Before returning from our walk let us haul down this small boat from +its “noust” and take a bird’s-eye view of the seaweeds in their natural +habitat. Through the clear water beneath us we can see the strange shapes +of the submerged vegetation, dense and tangled, with here and there a +lazy sea-urchin on the broad red-ware, and the sillocks actively swimming +around. But our oars are entangled in the “drew” (_Chorda filum_), so +full of annoyance and even of danger to the swimmer. Look at one of those +long threads. It is covered with hairs; it tapers towards both ends, and +its fructification extends along its whole surface. In structure it is a +hollow tube divided into many chambers. + +What a variety of colours and shades we see as we look down on this +wonderful submarine scenery! We notice that near high-water mark green is +the predominant colour, and that the lower belt is mostly brown, while +here at low-water mark and beyond it, as well as under the shelter of the +sea-wracks and tangles, shades of red prevail. Beyond the depth of thirty +or forty fathoms seaweeds are extremely rare, owing to the want of light +at the sea-bottom: seaweeds, like other plants, cannot take in their food +in darkness. + +Notwithstanding their varied tints, the fundamental colour of all +seaweeds is green, as you can prove for yourselves by boiling a few brown +specimens, or soaking them for some time in fresh water. You will find +that the other colouring matters are dissolved out, and only the green +is left. The red or brown pigments are probably of use in aiding or in +protecting the green colouring matter, chlorophyll, in its important work +of assimilating the food material. + +[Illustration] + + + + +CRABS. + + +When I was a boy at school we frequently amused ourselves by catching +crabs. The scene of our operations was the Peerie Sea, where a wall had +been built along the shore. Here we used to gather, armed with a piece +of string and bait of some kind, and we often spent a whole long evening +perched on the wall, fishing for crabs. The Peerie Sea was a receptacle +for all kinds of refuse, and formed a happy hunting-ground for swarms of +crabs. + +When one thinks of catching crabs, one may naturally imagine an excursion +to the shore during ebb-tide, and much turning over of stones and +seaweed. Our method was quite different. We made the crabs come to us. +Our bait was a piece of fish or anything of an animal nature, provided it +was fairly tough. No hook was necessary; we simply tied the end of the +string round the bait. + +The baited line was let down into the water, preferably in the vicinity +of a crab, and drawn slowly along the bottom. If the animal was timid, +and not very hungry, he often scuttled off in a fright. Usually, +however, he was both hungry and fearless, and seized the bait at once, +trying to drag it in among seaweed or into a hole. Now came the exciting +part of the business. Our object was to haul him up before he quitted his +hold. The wall was high, and he required careful management. Sometimes +when he was drawn up out of the water he would let go, and fall back with +a flop into the sea again; sometimes he would hold on till he was drawn +up over the wall, and then we shook him off on the pavement behind. + +[Illustration: _Common shore crab._] + +Occasionally when we had no bait we would manage to land a crab with a +small stone or a cinder. So long as the stone lies motionless on the +bottom he pays no attention to it. As soon as it begins to move, drawn +along by the string, the crab rushes at it and seizes it with his claws, +and it is some time before he finds out his mistake. Not infrequently +he will allow himself to be drawn quite out of the water, clinging to +his find. It is very amusing to see the crab worrying a hard stone, then +dropping it when he has discovered it is not eatable, and then seizing it +again as it begins to move away from him, just like a kitten with a ball +of wool. Apparently he cannot resist the idea that movement means life. + +The commonest kind of crab in Orkney is the green shore-crab. He is on +the whole a bold animal, but when frightened he runs away with great +speed. He moves sideways, and thus meets with less resistance from the +water than if he were to move directly forward. Usually, however, he does +not walk fast, but creeps over the bottom in a leisurely fashion. When +seizing his food he comes up to it “head on,” his nipping claws held wide +apart; when he is near enough, he suddenly brings them together, and +begins to tear up the food in little bits and pack it into his mouth. + +His eyes are placed on the tip of movable projections, so that they +command a wide view. He cannot see behind him, however, or under his +body, and he usually keeps his eyes fixed in the direction in which he is +going. When he is resting, his eyes are ever on the watch. Every little +movement on the beach near him he notices at once. + +The crab has a peculiar method of feeding. His mouth is just under his +head, and the opening is guarded by two flat jointed plates, one on +each side of his mouth. If you pull these two plates apart—after having +arranged with a friend to hold his pincers—you can see where his mouth +is, and you may notice two strong things which look like teeth. These are +really his jaws; they move from side to side, and not up and down like +our jaws. To see how he feeds, you must put him into a glass jar, and +look up from below while he is eating a bit of fish. He tears it up with +his pincers, and puts little bits into his mouth, the parts of which move +from side to side as he eats. + +He is not very particular as to what he eats. He is, indeed, a cannibal, +and will eat the crushed leg of another crab as readily as anything else. +He is one of the most useful animals on the beach, however, and has been +called the scavenger of the shore. In fact, if one wishes to get the +flesh cleaned off the skeleton of any large animal, there is no easier +method than to lay it on the beach, well below high-water mark, and build +stones around it, leaving spaces between them to admit crabs. + +As we have already said, the crab is bold and fearless. He is safe in +his coat of armour, and his pincers are powerful weapons of offence and +defence. When fighting he rears himself up and throws his nipping legs +far apart with the pincers wide open. He then looks a formidable animal; +and he really is formidable, for with these legs he can protect almost +any part of his body, and the strength of his grip is considerable. + +Take up a dead crab and examine his biting leg. The different parts are +joined by hinges. Each hinge allows of motion only in one plane, but the +various planes are so adjusted that the limb can be moved in almost any +direction. Only one part of his body cannot be touched by his pincers, +and that is his back. If you wish to grasp a live crab with impunity, +seize him across the back just where his walking legs join the body. He +may struggle as he pleases, but he cannot nip you. + +It is quite a common thing to find a shore crab with one or more legs +wanting, or with one large pincer and one small one. What is the reason +of this? It means that at one time or other the crab has had a limb torn +off in a fight, for the males are continually fighting with one another. +When a limb is lost it is not a very serious matter, for a new limb soon +begins to grow on again, and after a time becomes as large as the lost +one. + +There are times, however, when the crab is by no means pugnacious. One +sometimes finds under a stone a crab which has hardly enough spirit to +lift his pincers in self-defence. On touching him one finds that he is +quite soft. What has happened to him? He has recently been casting his +coat; for, as the animal goes on growing within his shell, he becomes +too big for it, and the only thing he can do is to burst the shell and +come out of it, and then wait for a bigger one to grow. When he is thus +moulting, he is glad to crawl away and hide till he is able to face the +world again. Many of the empty crab shells that one picks up on the +beach are the old cast-off clothes of crabs still alive and vigorous. By +examining one of these we can see how thorough the process of moulting +is; not only are the shells of his back and his legs thrown off, but the +covering of his eyes, his feelers, his mouth parts, and even the inside +lining of his stomach,—for, strange to say, the wall of his stomach is +lined with the same kind of shell as the outside of his body. + +The crab is formed for living in water, but he can stand long exposure +to the air. If you cover him with damp garden soil or peat mould he will +survive for days. The reason is that so long as his gills are kept damp +he can breathe and live quite well. The lobster breathes in exactly the +same way, and when lobsters are being shipped for the southern markets +they are put in boxes with layers of wet seaweed to keep them alive. + +Have you ever seen the beautiful set of gills which the crab has? If you +find a dead crab that has been lying on the beach for some little time, +you can easily remove the upper shell, leaving the soft parts of the body +with the legs attached. Just above the attachment of the legs there is +a series of brown feathery-looking things which seem to cover the whole +side of the body. These are the gills. They lie in a special chamber, +occupying about half of the whole space inside the shell. While the crab +is alive, the gills are continually bathed in a current of water, which +is pumped in through a small hole at the side of his mouth and drawn out +at another hole near it. If the gills become dry the animal soon dies. + +There is a curious pointed flap folded tightly across the crab’s body +underneath, which is commonly called its “purse.” It used to be a +schoolboy belief that the crab carries its money here. The fact simply +is that the purse is kept closed for the sake of protection, as the skin +underneath it is soft and might easily be injured in a fight. + +You have all seen the long tail of the lobster, with its broad flaps at +the end. By suddenly bending its tail underneath its body the lobster is +able to propel itself backwards through the water at a great rate. The +crab and the lobster are, as you may know, closely related, and the purse +of the former corresponds to the tail of the latter. The purse or tail of +the crab, however, is always tucked up under the body, and is never used +for swimming. + +Both animals carry their eggs on this part of their body, and you may +occasionally find a crab with its purse so full of eggs that it cannot be +closed. These eggs have a curious history. When they are hatched, it is +not a small crab that comes out, but a funny little creature not in the +least like its parent. It has a rounded body and a long thin tail, and +swims actively about. At this stage it is called a _zœa_. + +By-and-by the creature settles down to the sea-bottom and casts its +shell. Its back is now broader and its tail shorter, and it is provided +with claws; but it is still quite unlike a crab, and swims freely about. +It is now known as a _megalopa_. Swarms of these may be found clustered +round seaweed and other floating substances, both near the shore and in +deep water. As it grows it again casts its shell, but it now tucks in +its tail and settles down in life as a real crab, though of course a +very small one as yet: you may find scores of them on the beach not much +bigger than a split pea. + +Besides the green crab there are others which are common on the +sea-beach. One of these is the edible crab or “partan.” This crab lives +in somewhat deeper water than the other, and is of a dark reddish or +purplish hue on the back, while its under parts are white. It is not +nearly so quick and active in its movements as the green crab, but when +it does get hold of anything it has a stronger bite. In deep water it +grows to a giant size, and it is regularly caught in creels and sold for +food, as its flesh is firm and good to eat. The flesh of the green crab, +on the other hand, is much softer and less abundant, and it is not used +for eating. Strangely enough, all crabs turn red when boiled, whatever +their colour when alive. + +Another curious crab is sometimes found in weedy pools on the beach. This +animal is of a spidery form, and is much more difficult to see than an +ordinary crab, for he is elaborately disguised. His back and legs are +grown over with hairy brown seaweed, and as he always lies among a mass +of similar weed it is impossible to detect him so long as he remains at +rest. When he does move, his movements are extremely slow. If you take +him out of the water, he looks a most uncouth creature as he feebly +sprawls about. Place him back in the bunch of seaweed from which he was +taken, and he immediately adjusts himself so as to become invisible. This +is his mode of escaping observation, for he is too slow and weak to be +able to defend himself. + +Still another odd-looking crab may be found in deep water. This animal +has rather thin legs, while its back is somewhat pear-shaped, the pointed +end being directed forwards. It is, however, a much more active animal +than the last mentioned, and we may often see it from a boat as it climbs +about on the broad blades of the tangles. It is rarely found on the +beach, but the cast-off shell of the animal may be found on almost any +part of our shores. + +One of the most interesting of our crabs is known as the hermit-crab. +He belongs to the family of soft-tailed crabs, and in shape is more +like the lobster than the other crabs we have mentioned. The hinder part +of his body being without armour, he is forced to seek an artificial +defence, and this he finds in the empty shell of a whelk or “buckie,” +into the spiral coils of which he inserts his unprotected tail. These +creatures are generally called hermit-crabs, because each lives in his +own separate habitation, like a hermit in his cell or like Diogenes in +his tub; but unlike these in their habits, they are so pugnacious that +they are also known as soldier-crabs. + +[Illustration: _Hermit-crab (with anemone on shell)._] + +Hermit-crabs may be found plentifully on the shores, of various sizes, +and inhabiting any kind of shell that they find to suit their size. If +we look into a shallow sand-bottomed rock-pool, we may see some of these +shells moving about at a rate to which they were quite unaccustomed +during the life of their builder and original occupier: we know at once +that each of these shells has now as a tenant one of those interesting +crabs. + +By means of an apparatus at the extremity of his tail the hermit holds +firmly to his temporary abode, and he flattens himself closely against +the shell, leaving exposed only the one large pincer which is specially +fitted to bar the door against intruders. It is difficult to seize the +creature at all; and even when a grasp of any portion can be secured, the +hold of the tail is so firm that the animal runs some risk of being torn +apart rather than leave his shell. + +A well-known writer on Natural History, the Rev. J. G. Wood, has given an +interesting account of the hermit-crab, from which we quote the following +paragraphs:— + +“The combative propensities of these creatures are wonderful. If two +hermits of fairly equal size are placed in an aquarium, they are +not content with appropriating different portions of the vessel to +themselves, but must needs travel over it and fight whenever they meet. +This struggle is constantly renewed, until one of them discovers his +inferiority and makes way whenever the victor comes near. When they fight +they do so in earnest, tumbling over each other, and flinging about their +legs and claws with great energy. They are not at all particular about +diet so long as it is of an animal substance, and will eat molluscs, raw +meat, or even their own species. More than once when a hermit has died +I have dropped the body into the water so as to bring it within view of +another hermit. The little cannibal caught the descending body in one of +his claws very dexterously, and holding it firmly with one claw he picked +it to pieces with the other, and put each morsel into his mouth in a +rapid and systematic manner that was highly amusing.” + +“When a hermit desires to change his habitation, he goes through a +curious series of performances. A shell lies on the ground, and the +hermit seizes it with his claws and his feet and twists it about with +wonderful dexterity, as if testing its weight; and after having examined +every portion of its exterior, he proceeds to satisfy himself about its +interior. For this purpose he pushes his fore legs as far into the shell +as they will reach, and probes every spot that can be touched. If this +examination satisfies him, he whisks himself into the new shell with such +rapidity that he seems to have been acted upon by a spring. Such a scene +as this will not be witnessed in the sea unless the hermit is forcibly +deprived of his shell, but when hermits are placed in a tank or vase they +seem to be rather fond of ‘flitting.’” + +[Illustration] + + + + +HOPPERS AND SHOLTIES. + + +Of the great multitude of different animals which live on the seashore +possibly the most numerous are the little creatures known as “sholties” +or “Shetland sholties.” They are to be found on almost every beach. Their +peculiar shape, flattened on the sides, their habit of hiding in crowds +under stones or seaweed, their intense alarm when they are suddenly +exposed, and their vigour in escaping into a new hiding-place, are known +to every schoolboy. They look very different from their pugnacious +relatives, the crabs; they are feeble creatures, more ready to escape +from danger than to offer fight. Yet they are most interesting little +animals, and the more one watches their ways the more one comes to +understand their wonderful adaptation to their surroundings. + +Though their general appearance is quite familiar, it is not so commonly +known that there are many different varieties of these creatures. As a +matter of fact, there are scores of different kinds, some living on the +beach, some just below extreme low-water mark, and others in the deep +sea. We shall concern ourselves here only with those that live on the +beach. + +There are three common kinds which every one ought to know. Two of these, +curiously enough, though _beach_ animals are not really _sea_ animals. +They are hardly ever in the water; they live on the fringe of beach which +lies just above high-water mark. The sea reaches them but rarely, and +they never voluntarily seek the water. These two kinds are known as the +shore-hopper (_Orchestia_) and the sand-hopper (_Talitrus_), the latter +being found mostly on sandy beaches, where they make little burrows in +which to hide, and the former living under stones or among the decaying +seaweed on stony beaches. They both get their name of “hopper” from their +habit of leaping or springing into the air, by means of which they often +avoid capture by enemies. French people call them “sea-fleas.” + +[Illustration: _Shore-hopper (Orchestia)._ _Sand-hopper (Talitrus)._ +_Sholtie (Gammarus)._ + +(All magnified about three times.)] + +The third variety, which is probably best known of all, and to which +the name of “sholtie” is here more especially applied, is that which +occurs farther down on the beach in places which are constantly wet with +sea-water. This animal (_Gammarus_) is much narrower in the body than +the other two, and some of its legs are bent backwards along its side, +so that by means of them it can run or crawl on its side. Indeed, when +out of the water this creature in quite unable to walk back uppermost; +whenever by any chance it does succeed in raising itself into what is for +most animals the normal attitude, it immediately topples over on its side +again. It can be readily distinguished from the other two forms by having +_two_ pairs of long, delicate feelers or antennæ in front of its head; +the hoppers have only one long pair of antennæ and one short pair. + +All these animals, in spite of their small size, are near allies of the +crabs and lobsters. A naturalist would tell you that they belong to +the group of the _Crustacea_, this name being applied to all animals +of the crab tribe on account of the firm, crackly skin or shell which +surrounds them. The Crustacea are marked by other features in addition +to the possession of this hard exterior. They are all jointed animals, +their body being built up of a series of segments, each of which carries +a pair of legs or appendages of some kind, these appendages also being +jointed. In the crab and the lobster a number of segments have become +fused or welded together to form the front part or body of the animal. In +the group of animals to which the sholties belong the segments are all +distinct. + +To understand something of the structure and the general habits of the +sholtie, all that we require to do is to collect a few specimens from +the beach and put them in a saucer with a little sea-water. They will +swim about in a very active fashion, the swimming being performed by +means of little fan-like appendages attached to the under part of the +animal just where the swimmerets are in the lobster. By the vigorous +strokes of these appendages the animal forces its way through the water. + +These appendages are, however, of use in another way; the gills of the +animal are attached to them. Even when it is lying almost dry, or in +water too shallow for swimming, these appendages can be seen to work +regularly and rhythmically with a gentle flapping movement. Sometimes +they stop working for a little and then begin again, but they are never +long at rest. In this way currents of water are made to bathe the gills +continually, and the flapping of the appendages is really a breathing +movement. + +The walking legs are attached to the fore part of the body. Some of them +point backwards, as has already been mentioned, and the animal prefers +to crawl or run on its side. As a rule, too, it propels itself over the +ground by jerking movements of its body, its tail being alternately +curled up and then suddenly straightened out again. It is in this way +that it wriggles over the stones and escapes into a place of safety when +exposed. + +One of the most characteristic points about the sholtie is its habit of +clinging to objects, especially if they afford a cover from the light. +Drop a bit of seaweed into the dish where they are swimming, and in two +or three minutes the sholties will all be found clinging to the under +surface of the weed. We might indeed imagine that they had escaped +from the saucer. They cluster like swarming bees round the smallest +blade of seaweed, and it is only by turning over the weed that we can +make sure that they are there. When exposed to full daylight they seem +uncomfortable, and keep swimming about trying to find a hiding-place. It +is only when they find something to cling to and to hide under that they +really rest and feel at ease. + +But we have not yet examined the hoppers. Though externally so like +the sholties, they are very different in constitution and habits. To +understand the difference between the two classes of animals, the best +plan is to put either a shore-hopper or a sand-hopper into some water +along with a sholtie. The latter is an active little animal in the water, +capable of moving about like a fish. The hopper, on the other hand, is +obviously out of his element; he sinks to the bottom of the dish and +there works his way along in lumbering fashion. His breathing organs can +be seen waving backwards and forwards in rhythmical fashion, but they are +too feeble to be used for swimming. The shore-hopper can breathe quite +well in water, and may live in it for days. It is said that sand-hoppers +do not stand long-continued immersion, and die of drowning. + +On land, however, the hopper is at home, provided he gets just +sufficient moisture to keep his gills damp. Not only can he crawl about +back uppermost—a feat which the _Gammarus_ would attempt in vain—but +as he crawls he keeps his tail curled up under his body, and by +suddenly straightening this out he can throw himself into the air with +considerable vigour. In this way he often not merely escapes from an +enemy, but even drives terror into the heart of the pursuer. It takes +some little time to realize that hoppers can be handled with impunity, +and are harmless for all their sudden jerky movements. + +Why do these animals live on the upper fringe of beach, and what do they +find there to eat? The answer is simple. They live on the cast up refuse +of the sea; they are the scavengers of the jetsam. Naturalists who are +collecting the skeletons of small animals often put the carcases which +they wish to have cleaned under some decaying weed on the beach. After a +week or a fortnight the bones are found to be picked absolutely clean. + +In order to tell the sand-hopper from the shore-hopper we have only to +look at his front feet. If they are all thin and slender, the animal is +a sand-hopper; if one pair of the front feet are clubbed at the end and +armed with a claw, we know that he is a shore-hopper. + +[Illustration] + + + + +SEA-ANEMONES. + + +When the tide ebbs and leaves the rocks exposed we may find here and +there a few soft, rounded objects attached to the bare rock, often bright +red in colour, and looking like strawberries or ripe cherries. They are +found especially on the sheltered sides of high rocks and in the angles +formed by slight ridges and clefts. We do not seem to have any local +name for these objects, although they are so common and conspicuous; one +wonders why our name-inventing forefathers did not bestow on them some +descriptive title. Their English name is “sea-anemone,” a term derived +from their resemblance to the anemone flower. + +It is only when they are covered by the water, however, that they deserve +the name of anemone, for then they open out like a bud and spread out +circles of leaf-like projections, much as an opening daisy or dandelion +does. They usually remain open during the whole time that the tide is +up; when the water goes back again these leaves all curl in towards the +middle of the anemone and are folded up inside, leaving only a little +dimple on the top to indicate where they have disappeared. + +Sea-anemones, however, are by no means flowers. Their jelly-like +consistency and their habits would lead us to classify them as animals, +and this they undoubtedly are. Though they seem to be rooted to one spot, +and to open and close like a plant, their real habits are those of an +animal. As a matter of fact, they are carnivorous animals; they first +kill their victims by poisoning them, and afterwards devour them. If they +had the power of moving rapidly in pursuit of prey, they would be as +deadly to the general population of the beach as are the most venomous +snakes to the creatures on land. As it is, they account for a very +considerable number of the beach inhabitants by simply lying in wait and +grasping the little animals that happen to stray within their reach. + +[Illustration: _Sea-anemones._] + +The beautiful circles of leaflets which we see so regularly arranged are +really active grasping tentacles, armed with whole batteries of little +poisonous stings. With these tentacles they seize hold of any little +creature, such as a “sholtie” or a young crab, that happens to move +over them. The poor animal is held fast in spite of all its struggles, +tentacle after tentacle is brought up by the anemone to grasp it, while +hundreds of fine stinging darts discharge into it their poison, and +the victim, its struggles gradually becoming more and more feeble, is +ultimately drawn into the centre of the animal, where lie its mouth and +its stomach. Then the tentacles are all closed in over the prey, and +remain thus closed for a time—a day or several days, according to the +size of the animal caught. During this time the process of digestion is +going on, and when it is completed the skeleton and useless parts of the +animal are discharged by the same opening as that by which it was taken +in, and the anemone once more spreads its tentacles to wait for its next +victim. + +It is not only living animals that the anemone will devour. Anything of +animal nature, dead or alive, is grist to its mill; and though it has +no eyes, it can quite well distinguish what is good for food. A waving +branch of seaweed borne towards it by currents in the water is quite +ignored, while a bit of flesh is never allowed to come in contact with +the tentacles without an effort being made to secure it. By some natural +power, whether by the sense of smell or of taste or by some other sense +unknown to us, the creature distinguishes unfailingly what it needs. It +is great fun to feed it with small portions of limpet or of whelk, and by +doing so one can see exactly how the process of feeding is carried on. + +One might imagine that the anemone would easily fall a prey to larger +and stronger animals. It has no hard skin or shell to protect it, and +its beautiful jelly-like appearance would suggest to any hungry fish or +crab that it is not only easy to demolish but would form a juicy morsel. +Yet it does not seem to be in any danger from such enemies. I was once +amusing myself by throwing little pieces of bait into the sea among a +crowd of sillocks. Along with the bait, which consisted of limpet and +fish, I threw in a morsel of one of these red anemones. A bold young +sillock immediately snapped it up. Then something seemed to go wrong, for +the poor young fish suddenly shot the anemone out of its mouth and swam +off without so much as looking at the other bait which I threw all round +about it. The piece of anemone was less palatable than it looked. + +Strangely enough an anemone is not much inconvenienced by being cut into +bits. The individual pieces if put into the sea again close up and grow +into new animals. No doubt the piece which the sillock swallowed was +fully alive, and stung the mouth and throat of its captor so severely +that the fish was only too glad to be rid of it. + +All anemones are not red in colour like those of which we have been +speaking. There is a great number of different kinds of these creatures +round our shores, but most of them are only to be found by careful +searching. Some are found in rock-pools; these are generally coloured +more or less like the seaweeds in the pools. Others are found only in +dark places; under large stones or boulders near low-water mark they grow +in all attitudes—upright, sideways, and upside down—attached by their +base to the surface of the stone. The greatest variety of them I ever saw +was found among the stones of a little jetty or pier, which was being +taken down to make room for a larger pier. The under surface and the +sides of the stones on this pier were simply covered with anemones of all +sizes, shapes, and colours. + +The various kinds of anemone differ not only in colour but also in size +and shape. Some are minute things, with a thin body or stalk crowned at +the top with long, fine tentacles, which they wave about actively through +the water in search for small prey. Others again are large, and one kind, +known as the dahlia, which is common in Orkney, attains to gigantic +proportions; when its tentacles are expanded it is as wide across the top +as the mouth of a large breakfast cup. The dahlia is variously coloured, +sometimes dark crimson, the tentacles being marked with broad rings of +crimson and white, sometimes green with red markings. The outside of +its body is usually covered with bits of gravel and broken shells, so +that when the animal closes up there is nothing to be seen but a rounded +heap of gravel. When open it is a magnificent creature, and its broad, +tapering tentacles shine with an iridescent light. + +[Illustration: _Dahlia anemone._] + + + + +Part IV.—Legend and Lay. + + + + +THE OLD GODS. + + +In the north of Europe there lived long ago that race of people whom we +know as the Norsemen—tall, fair-haired men, strong and warlike, and as +much at home on sea as on land. They came to Britain in great numbers +at different times, and many of them settled there. We read of them +sometimes as Vikings, sometimes as Danes, and sometimes as Normans. The +Saxon settlers of a still earlier time were of the same kindred. We have +already told the story of their settlement in Orkney, and of the earldom +which they established there. Everything that we can find out about this +wonderful race of sea-rovers and warriors is of interest to us; for +while most of the lowland dwellers of Scotland and England have some +Norse blood in their veins, we who live in these northern islands regard +ourselves as the lineal descendants of those Vikings. + +Before the Norsemen became Christians, they believed in many gods and +goddesses. They had gods of the sky and of the sea, of spring and of +summer, of thunder and lightning, of frost and of storm. Many a strange +tale they told of the doings of their gods, and most of those tales are +really pictures of the processes that take place in nature—of the wars +between wind and sea, between light and darkness, and between sun and +frost. + +In the beginning, they believed, there was the great Spirit, the Creator. +Of him they have no tales to tell. Then the world was made—or rather +the worlds, for the Norsemen thought that besides this world of men +there were a world of the gods, a world of the giants, and other worlds. +Between Asgard, the home of the gods, and Midgard, the world of men, a +beautiful bridge was built, which we call the rainbow. + +Odin was the highest of the gods. He was the god of wisdom and of +victory, and the friend of heroes. Men spoke of him as tall and strong, +with long, flowing hair and beard, and wearing a wide blue mantle flecked +with white, as the blue sky is flecked with fleecy clouds. On his +shoulders sat two ravens, Thought and Memory. They roamed over the world +every day, and came back at night to whisper in his ear all they had seen +and heard. At his feet crouched two wolves, which he fed with his own +hand. + +Odin had three palaces in Asgard. One of these was Valhalla, the home +of heroes; and hither came at their death all the brave men Odin loved +so well. He sent forth beautiful maidens to hover over every field of +battle, and to carry home to Valhalla those who fell in the fight. In +Valhalla the brave lived for ever. They spent their days in fighting, as +they had loved to do on earth; but every evening the warriors returned +to the hall of feasting, unhurt, and the best of friends. Such was the +Norsemen’s idea of a heaven for heroes. + +Odin gave men wisdom as well as courage. Only through suffering, however, +did he become the god of wisdom. It happened on this wise. Far below +the world of the giants was a crystal spring which watered the roots of +the tree of life—a great tree reaching up to heaven. This well was the +fountain of wisdom, and whoever drank of it became wise. It was guarded +by a giant called Mimir, or Memory. Mimir was older than the gods, and +wiser than they, for he remembered all things. Odin went down below the +world of the giants one day, and he said to Mimir, “Give me a drink of +the clear water of your well.” + +“Ah,” said Mimir, “this water is never given to any except at a great +price. You must be willing to give up the most precious thing you possess +before you can drink at Mimir’s fountain.” + +“Be it so,” replied Odin; “I will give whatever you ask.” + +Mimir looked at him, admiring his courage, and at length replied, “If you +would drink, you must leave with me one of your eyes.” + +This was a great price to pay, but Odin did not flinch. He drank of the +fountain, and came back to Asgard with only one eye, but he had won the +wisdom he desired. + +Thor was the god of thunder; he was the champion of the gods, and +defended Asgard against the giants. His was the largest palace in Asgard; +it had five hundred and forty halls and many great doors, and was called +by a name which means Lightning. Thor wore a crown of stars upon his +head, and rode in a chariot drawn by two goats, from whose hoofs and +teeth flashed sparks of fire. To Thor belonged three very precious +things. The first was his mighty hammer, with which he fought the frost +giants. The second was his belt of strength: when he girded himself with +this his strength was doubled. The third was his iron gauntlet: with this +he grasped his famous hammer, which he made red-hot when he fought the +giants. + +Loki was the spirit of evil and mischief. Having been banished from +Asgard for his wickedness, he lived many years in giant-land, rejoicing +in his evil deeds. He had three children, each as full of evil as +himself. So much mischief did they work that Odin looked down from Asgard +with a grave countenance. “This must not be,” he said; “Loki’s children +will fill the world with evil.” So Odin fared forth to giant-land. One of +the evil brood he sent to the under world of darkness, and one he threw +into the sea. The third, Fenris the wolf, was so strong that Odin spared +him. “If he were to live with the gods,” he said, “his strength might be +turned to good instead of ill.” So he took Fenris the wolf up to Asgard, +to see whether he would learn goodness with his strength. + +Who among the gods would care for the wolf-spirit? Brave Tyr was ready +with the answer. “Father Odin,” he cried, “I delight in strength. Let me +have the charge of this fierce fellow; I care not if the task be hard and +dull.” So Fenris became his charge. He fed him with sheep and oxen, and +took him with him upon his journeys. But Fenris did not learn the ways of +the gods. His muscles were like iron, and his teeth stronger than steel, +but his heart remained savage and cruel. + +One night Odin called the gods together. “Sons,” he said, “I have looked +upon Fenris, and seen his cruel strength. There is no love in his eyes, +and no thought of good in his heart. Day by day he becomes stronger for +evil. We must bind him, or he will destroy us.” They listened, and saw +that the counsel of Odin was good. “Come with me,” said Thor the mighty; +“I will forge a chain that will hold him fast.” All night long the gods +watched Thor toiling at his anvil, dealing great blows upon the glowing +iron, and sending sparks like shooting-stars through the darkness. When +morning came the massive chain was finished. + +“Come, Fenris,” called Thor, “you are strong; let us see you break this +chain which I have made.” Fenris allowed them to bind him with the heavy +links: when they had done so, he stretched his huge limbs, and the thick +iron snapped like a thread of silk. The gods kept silence as Fenris +walked away. + +Again Thor led them to his forge; again he toiled all night, hammering +and shaping great bars of steel. When morning came, another chain was +ready, ten times stronger than the first. But this chain also snapped +like a spider’s thread before the might of Fenris. + +The gods once more sat in council, and Odin’s face was grave. “Great +indeed is the power of evil,” said the All-wise, “but the power of good +must be greater still. Sons, let us call to our aid the skill of the +dwarfs. Tyr shall tell them of our need, and they will help us to bind +the enemy.” Like an arrow from the bow, Tyr sped from Asgard to the cave +of the dwarfs, the skilful workers in gold and gems, and gladly they lent +their aid to Father Odin. Three nights they toiled in the darkness, and +then they brought to Tyr a delicate chain which might have been spun from +a cobweb. “Here is thy chain, O Tyr,” they said. “Fierce Fenris cannot +escape from its bands.” + +When Tyr came back to Asgard, Fenris was called once more to test his +strength. He looked on the delicate thread, and he trembled; yet he would +not seem to be afraid. “If one of you will place his hand in my mouth, +so that there may be fair play, I will let you bind me,” he replied. The +gods looked in one another’s faces. Who would dare the power of the wolf? + +Brave Tyr stepped forward and put his arm between the wolf’s jaws. The +tiny chain was wound round Fenris. He rose to stretch himself and shake +it off, but it held him fast. With a wild howl he gnashed his teeth +together, and Tyr stood before the gods without his strong right arm. +Then a great shout arose in Asgard, “Hail to Tyr! he has given his right +hand to save the world from evil.” It was echoed from the hills, and rang +through the caves of the dwarfs. “The chain of the dwarfs is mighty,” +they said, “but stronger is the brave heart of Tyr.” So wisdom and +goodness together were more than a match for strength and evil. + +Baldur was the god of light. He was the fairest of all that dwelt in +Asgard, the best beloved of gods and men. Wherever he went he carried +with him that kindness and love which is to the heart of man what light +is to the sky. Every one loved him but Loki; the spirit of evil hated the +goodness that was in Baldur. Baldur’s palace was the home of all that +was bright and pure. It was built of the blue of the sky and the clear +crystal of running water. Here he lived in peace, for no evil thing +could enter. But Baldur became sad and troubled, for he dreamed that his +life was in danger. + +Then his mother went abroad over the whole world, and made everything +promise not to hurt Baldur. Who would harm the beautiful god? Earth, air, +and water, beasts and birds, and plants and flowers—all things promised +never to hurt him. So his mother returned to Asgard with joy, but still +Baldur was sad. Then the gods invented a kind of game to cheer his heart. +They made him stand in the midst while they threw at him weapons and all +hurtful things, to show that nothing could do him harm; and thus they +amused themselves many days. + +In the meantime Loki disguised himself as an old woman, and went to +Baldur’s mother. He said he marvelled that Baldur was not hurt, and then +the mother told him of the promise which all things had made never to +harm her son. + +“What! have all things promised this?” asked Loki. + +“Yes,” was the reply; “all things have promised except one weak little +plant, the mistletoe, which grows far away, and which I did not think it +worth while to ask.” + +Loki rejoiced in his evil heart when he heard this. He hurried to the +place where the mistletoe grew, and plucked a twig of it, which by his +magic he made into a spear. Then he came back to Asgard, where the gods +were playing their game of throwing spears at Baldur. + +“Why do you not join in the game?” he asked one of the gods. + +“Because I am blind,” he replied. + +“For the honour of Baldur you should throw a spear at him,” Loki went on. + +“I have no spear to throw,” answered the blind god. + +Then Loki put into his hand the mistletoe spear, and helped him to aim +it. The spear pierced Baldur through the heart, and he fell dead. Then +there were grief and anger in Asgard; weeping and mourning were heard for +the first time among the gods. + +Odin sent a message to the daughter of Loki, who ruled over the world of +the dead, and asked her to set Baldur free. She replied that he would +be set free if every living thing would weep for him; but if a single +creature refused to weep, he could not return. + +Then the gods went through all the earth, and prayed all things living to +weep for Baldur. One old woman alone refused, and so Baldur could not be +set free. The old woman was no other than Loki, who had taken this form +in order to hide himself. + +After the death of Baldur came a gloomy time in Asgard. The gods had +fierce wars with the frost-giants, and were defeated. This time is called +“the twilight of the gods.” But even then they looked forward to a better +time which was to come, when Baldur should return, and all should be +light and joy and peace. + +Thus the old Norsemen gave us the beautiful tale of Baldur, the sun-god. +When the days are short in winter, the time of the mistletoe, Baldur is +dead; but when spring returns, the war with the frost-giants is over, and +Baldur returns with light and joy to the northern lands. + + + + +A VANISHING ISLAND. + + +Eynhallow—the “holy island”—lies in the middle of the fierce tideway that +separates the Orcadian mainland from Rousay, the Hrolfsey of the Sagas. + + “Eynhallow frank, Eynhallow free, + Eynhallow stands in the middle of the sea; + With a roaring roost on every side, + Eynhallow stands in the middle of the tide.” + +So runs an old island rhyme, and surely never was there an island so +beaten upon and shouted round by the angry tides. It sets a black front +of jagged rocks to the Atlantic on the west, and the great billows, +rushing on the rocks, send spouts of spray high in the air, to whirl +eastward over the gradual slope of the isle. All day long the tide sweeps +past on either side, boiling and eddying like a swift and deep river. +When the wind is in the north-west and a strong ebb-tide is running, then +is the time to see the roosts in all their glory; for the inrolling ocean +swell meets the outrushing tide in the narrow channels, and the white +waves leap and roar as if some + + “wallowing monster spouted + His foam fountains in the sea.” + +To see this mad turmoil of the roost on a wild winter day is strange +and terrible; but when the white breakers shout and toss themselves in +the sunlight of a still June morning there is a paradoxical charm in +the sudden outburst of leaping, sparkling foam amid the blue waters, +unruffled of any wind, that the wildest storm of winter can never claim. + +There is an even stronger fascination in the swift, dark, silent rush of +the tides, ceaseless along the shores, sweeping in with the flood and +whirling out again with the ebb, and with the little green isle in their +midst setting its steep front to the angry ocean, but sheltering with its +two long eastward points a quiet sandy bay where no current ever comes. + +All along the coast, on either side of Eynhallow Sound, are low green +mounds, marking the places where once were the homes of the prehistoric +Orcadians, that Celtic or Pictish race which the conquering Norsemen +destroyed so completely that there is not in all the place-names of the +isles any trace of their forgotten tongue. Amidst such surroundings, one +has only to look at Eynhallow to know that it must have gathered legend +and tradition in the long years. + +In Rousay there still lingers a tale of the breaking of the spell that +held Eynhallow sea-bound; for “once upon a time” the isle was enchanted, +and visible to human eyes only at rare intervals. It would rise suddenly +out of the sea, and vanish as suddenly before any mortal could reach it. +And if any one should feel inclined to doubt this tale, can we not point +him to the isle of Heather-Bleather, which is still held by the spell of +the sea-folk, and appears and disappears even unto this day? + +When Eynhallow was still a vanishing island, it became known in Rousay +that if any man, seeing the isle, should hold steel in his hand and, +taking boat, go out through the tides, never looking at aught but the +island, nor ever letting go the steel till he leaped on to its virgin +shore, that man should break the spell and win the isle from the sea-folk +for his own people. After many failures—and who can tell how many a brave +heart went down the tide to the sea-trows in that perilous venture?—there +came at last the hour and the man; the vanishing isle was won from the +waters, and left standing “in the middle of the tide.” + +If there be yet any man brave enough to try the adventure of the +vanishing island, Heather-Bleather awaits his coming. I have never met +any person who would confess to having seen that mysterious isle, but +many of the dwellers by the roosts have spoken to those who saw it rise +green out of the waters. This island is the home of the Fin-men or +Sea-men (not to be too rashly identified with the sea-trows), a race of +beings who play a prominent part in Orcadian folk-lore. + +In Rousay they tell of a maiden mysteriously rapt from the hillside over +the sea, and sought in vain by her kindred. Long years after, “when grief +was calm and hope was dead,” the lost girl’s father and brothers were at +sea in their fishing-boat, when there rolled down upon them one of those +dense banks of sea-fog so common in the North in summer. The fishermen +knew not where they were, but sailed on until their boat grounded on +an island which at first they took to be Eynhallow. They soon found, +however, that they were on an island they had never seen before, and on +going up to a “white house” they found in the “guid-wife” who admitted +them their long lost daughter and sister. She welcomed them, and in a +little time her husband and his brother came in from the sea in “wisps” +(the local name for great rolls of heather “simmons,” or ropes, used +in thatching houses). Others say that they came in the guise of seals, +and cast off their skins. Be that as it may, they treated their human +connections well and hospitably. When the time came for the men to leave +for home, the woman refused to accompany them, but she gave her father +a knife, and told him that so long as he kept it he could come to the +isle of the waters whenever he pleased. Just as the boat put to sea the +knife slipped from the old man’s hand into the water; in a moment the fog +swallowed the island, and no man has set foot on it since. + +In summer and autumn evenings, when the sea-fog comes rolling up in great +banks from the Atlantic, and the westering sun fills the hollows between +with fantastic lights and shadows—when the islands seem all to shift and +change, appearing and disappearing among the huge masses of white vapour, +it requires no very strong imagination to see once more the green isle +of Heather-Bleather riding the waters, real and solid as its sister of +Eynhallow, won so long since from the sea-folk. + +Of its old enchantment the isles-folk say that Eynhallow still retains +some small part. No steel or iron stake, such as are used for tethering +cattle, will remain in its soil after sunset. Of their own motion they +leap from the ground at the moment when the sea swallows the sun. Then, +again, no rat or mouse can live upon the island, and it is not long since +it was usual to bring boatloads of earth from Eynhallow to lay under the +foundations of new houses, and under the corn-stacks in the farmyard. It +was firmly believed that through the charmed earth no mouse or rat could +pass. + + DUNCAN J. ROBERTSON + _(The Scots Magazine). By Permission._ + +[Since the preceding article first appeared, a very interesting discovery +has been made on Eynhallow, which may help to explain both the name of +the island—the “Holy Isle”—and the existence of so many supernatural +legends regarding it. References are made in the Sagas to a monastery +in Orkney in Norse times, and it is recorded that an abbot from this +monastery was appointed to that of Melrose in 1175. Many probable +sites were suggested as having been occupied by this monastery, but no +remains could be found, and some doubt was felt as to whether it ever +really existed in Orkney at all. In the year 1900, however, Professor +Dietrichson, a Norwegian, examined the ruins on Eynhallow, and was able +to show that they are the long-sought remains of the lost monastery—small +in size, but complete in all the details of a Cistercian monastery of the +period referred to in the Sagas.] + + + + +HELEN WATERS: A LEGEND OF SULE SKERRY. + + +The mountains of Hoy, the highest of the Orkney Islands, rise abruptly +out of the ocean to an elevation of fifteen hundred feet, and terminate +on one side in a cliff, sheer and stupendous as if the mountain had been +cut down through the middle and the severed portion of it buried in the +sea. Immediately on the landward side of this precipice lies a soft green +valley, embosomed among huge black cliffs, where the sound of the human +voice or the report of a gun is reverberated among the rocks till it +gradually dies away into soft and softer echoes. + +The hills are intersected by deep and dreary glens, where the hum of the +world is never heard, and the only voices of life are the bleat of the +lamb and the shriek of the eagle. The breeze wafts not on its wings the +whisper of the woodland, for there are no trees on the island; the roar +of the torrent stream and the sea’s eternal moan for ever sadden those +solitudes of the world. + +The ascent of the mountain is in some parts almost perpendicular, and in +all exceedingly steep; but the admirer of Nature in her grandest and most +striking aspects will be amply compensated for his toil, upon reaching +their summits, by the magnificent prospect which they afford. Towards +the north and east, the vast expanse of the ocean, and the islands, with +their dark heath-clad hills, their green vales, and gigantic cliffs, +expand below as far as the eye can reach. The view towards the south is +bounded by the lofty mountains of Scaraben and Morven, and by the wild +hills of Strathnaver and Cape Wrath, stretching towards the west. In the +direction of the latter, and far away in mid-ocean, may be seen, during +clear weather, a barren rock called Sule Skerry, which superstition in +former days had peopled with mermaids and monsters of the deep. This +solitary spot had long been known to the Orcadians as the haunt of +sea-fowl and seals, and was the scene of frequent shooting excursions, +though such perilous adventures have been long since abandoned. It is +associated in my mind with a wild tale, which I have heard in my youth, +though I am uncertain whether or not the circumstances which it narrates +are yet in the memory of living men. + +On the opposite side of the mountainous island of which I speak, and +divided from it by a frith of several miles in breadth, lie the flat +serpentine shores of the principal island or Mainland, where, upon a +gentle slope, at a short distance from the sea-beach, may still be traced +the site of a cottage, once the dwelling of a humble couple of the name +of Waters, belonging to the class of small proprietors. + +Their only child Helen, at the time to which my narration refers, was +just budding into womanhood; and though uninitiated into what would now +be considered the indispensable requisites of female education, was yet +not altogether unaccomplished for the simple times in which she lived, +and, though a child of nature, had a grace beyond the reach of art. + +Henry Graham, the accepted lover of Helen Waters, was the son of a small +proprietor in the neighbourhood; and being of the same humble rank with +herself, and, though not rich, removed from poverty, their views were +undisturbed by the dotage of avarice or the fears of want, and the smiles +of approving friends seemed to await their approaching union. + +In the Orkneys it was customary for the bridegroom to invite the wedding +guests in person; for which purpose, a few days previous to the marriage, +young Graham, accompanied by a friend, took a boat and proceeded to the +island of Hoy in order to request the attendance of a family residing +there; which done, on the following day they joined a party of young men +upon a shooting excursion to Rackwick, a village romantically situated +on the opposite side of the island. They left the house of their friends +on a bright, calm autumnal morning, and began to traverse the wild and +savage glens which intersect the hills, where their progress might be +guessed at by the reports of their guns, which gradually became fainter +and fainter among the mountains, and at last died away altogether in the +distance. + +That night and the following day passed, and they did not return to the +house of their friends; but the weather being extremely fine, it was +supposed they had extended their excursion to the opposite coast of +Caithness, or to some of the neighbouring islands, so that their absence +created no alarm whatever. + +The same conjectures also quieted the anxieties of the bride, until the +morning previous to that of the marriage, when her alarm could no longer +be suppressed. A boat was manned in all haste, and dispatched to Hoy in +quest of them, but did not return that day nor the succeeding night. + +The morning of the wedding day dawned at last bright and beautiful, +but still no intelligence arrived of the bridegroom and his party; and +the hope which lingered to the last, that they would still make their +appearance in time, had prevented the invitations from being postponed, +so that the marriage party began to assemble about midday. + +While the friends were all in amazement, and the bride in a most pitiable +state, a boat was seen crossing from Hoy, and hope once more began to +revive; but, when her passengers landed, they turned out to be the +members of the family invited from that island, whose surprise at finding +how matters stood was equal to that of the other friends. + +Meantime all parties united in their endeavours to cheer the poor bride, +for which purpose it was agreed that the company should remain, and that +the festivities should go on—an arrangement to which the guests the more +willingly consented, from a lingering hope that the absentees would still +make their appearance, and partly with a view to divert in some measure +the painful suspense of the bride; while she, on the other hand, from +feelings of hospitality, exerted herself, though with a heavy heart, to +make her guests as comfortable as possible, and by the very endeavour to +put on an appearance of tranquillity acquired so much of the reality as +to prevent her from sinking altogether under the weight of her fears. + +Meantime the day advanced, the festivities went on, and the glass began +to circulate freely. The absence of the principal actor of the scene +was so far forgotten that at length the music struck up, and dancing +commenced with all the animation which that exercise inspires. + +Things were going on in this way when, towards night, and during one of +the pauses of the dance, a loud rap was heard at the door, and a gleam +of hope was seen to lighten every face, when there entered, not the +bridegroom and his party, but a wandering lunatic named Annie Fae, well +known and not a little feared in all that countryside. Her garments were +little else than a collection of fantastic and parti-coloured rags, bound +close around her waist with a girdle of straw, and her head had no other +covering than the dark tangled locks that hung, snake-like, over her wild +and weather-beaten face, from which peered forth her small, deep, sunk +eyes, gleaming with the light of insanity. + +Before the surprise and dismay excited by her sudden and unwelcome +appearance had subsided, she addressed the company in the following wild +and incoherent manner,— + +“Hech, sirs, but here’s a merry meeting indeed. Plenty o’ gude meat and +drink here, and nae expense spared! Aweel, it’s no a’ lost neither; this +blithe bridal will mak’ a braw burial, and the same feast will do for +baith. But I’ll no detain you langer, but jog on upon my journey; only I +wad juist hint that, for decency sake, ye suld stop that fine fiddling +and dancing.” + +Having thus spoken, she made a low curtsy, and hurried out of the house, +leaving the company in that state of painful excitement which, in such +circumstances, even the ravings of a poor deranged wanderer could not +fail to produce. + +In this state we too may leave them for the present, and proceed with the +party who had set off on the preceding day in search of the bridegroom +and his friends. The latter were traced to Rackwick; but there no +intelligence could be gained, except that some days previous a boat, +having on board several sportsmen, had been seen putting off from the +shore, and sailing away in the direction of Sule Skerry. + +The weather continuing fine, the searching party hired a large boat, +and proceeded to that remote and solitary rock, upon which, as they +neared it, they could discover nothing, except swarms of seals, which +immediately began to flounder towards the water’s edge. A large flock +of sea-fowl arose from the centre of the rock with a deafening scream; +and upon approaching the spot, they beheld, with dumb amazement and +horror, the dead bodies of the party of whom they had come in search, +but so mangled and disfigured by the sea-fowl that they could barely be +recognized. + +It appeared that these unfortunates upon landing had forgotten their guns +in the boat, which had slipped from her fastenings, and left them upon +the rock, where they had at last perished of cold and hunger. + +Fancy can but feebly conceive, and still less can words describe, the +feelings with which the lost men must have beheld their bark drifting +away over the face of the waters, and found themselves abandoned in the +vast solitude of the ocean. + +With what agony must they have gazed upon the distant sails, gliding over +the deep, but keeping far aloof from the rock of desolation. How must +their horrors have been aggravated by the far-off view of their native +hills, lifting their lonely peaks above the wave, and awakening the +dreadful consciousness that they were still within the grasp of humanity, +and yet no arm was stretched forth to save them; while the sun was riding +high in the heavens, and the sea basking in his beams below, and Nature +looking with reckless smiles upon their dying agonies! + +As soon as the stupor of horror and amazement had subsided, the party +placed the dead bodies in their boat, and, crowding all sail, stood for +the Orkneys. They landed at night upon the beach, immediately below the +house where the wedding guests were assembled; and there, while debating +in what manner to proceed, they were overheard by the insane wanderer, +the result of whose visit has already been recorded. + +She had scarcely left the house, when a low sound of voices was heard +approaching. An exclamation of joy broke from the bride. She rushed out +of the house with outstretched arms to embrace her lover, and the next +moment, with a fearful shriek, fell upon his corpse! With that shriek +reason and memory passed away for ever. She was carried back delirious, +and died towards morning. The bridal was changed into a burial, and Helen +Waters and her lover slept in the same grave! + + JOHN MALCOLM. (_Adapted._) + (Native of Firth, Orkney; 1795-1845.) + + + + +A LEGEND OF BORAY ISLAND.[1] + + + In the far-off Northern Islands, + Where the wild waves ever flow, + I have heard a wondrous legend + Of the days of long ago. + + There, amid the circling waters, + Boray Isle lies all alone, + Silent ever, save at nightfall + On the eve of good St. John.[2] + + Those who in the faith of Odin + ’Neath the waves have sunk for aye, + Are as sea-beasts doomed to wander + Till the dawn of Judgment Day. + + Once a year on Boray Island + They revisit scenes of earth, + And, their ancient forms resuming, + Hold their wild unhallowed mirth. + + On the shore their sealskins leaving, + They in revels pass the time, + Till the midnight hour resoundeth + From St. Magnus’ distant chime. + + At the solemn knell the dancers + In wild haste their guise regain, + And as seals once more appearing + Plunge below the waves again. + + Long ago a Northern fisher + In a storm was left alone, + And to Boray Isle was driven + On the eve of good St. John. + + There saw the ghostly revels— + Music wild fell on his ear; + And he snatched a cast-off sealskin, + And he hid in mortal fear. + + All the evening long he watched them, + Till he heard St. Magnus’ chime— + Twelve deep tones proclaimed the hour + When was o’er the fated time. + + At the solemn knell the dancers + In wild haste their guise regain— + All save one; a fair sea-maiden, + Seeking for her robe in vain. + + All the others plunged and left her, + And no more could Eric bide, + But his friendly shelter leaving, + Hurried to the maiden’s side. + + Flung his fisher mantle round her; + With the Cross he signed her o’er; + And with loving words addressed her, + Bidding her to fear no more. + + “Fairest one! no longer fated + As a wild sea-beast to roam, + Come and be my bride, my treasure, + Mistress of my hearth and home. + + “Thou shalt be a christened woman + By the help of good St. John, + And at blessed Magnus’ altar + Holy Church shall make us one.” + + So he spake, and so he won her, + And he took her to his home; + ‘Margaret’ was the name they gave her, + ‘Pearl’ cast up from Ocean’s foam. + + Three bright years they dwelt together, + Love and joy around her grew; + Every day he blessed the tempest + That his bark on Boray threw. + + But when spring three times had circled, + Margaret’s cheek was thin and white; + Day by day her strength departed, + And she faded in his sight. + + Then she spoke, and thus she bade him: + “Death’s cold touch is on my heart, + But in peace from this dear homestead + Soul and body cannot part + + “Till I know my fate for certain— + If the holy water shed + On my christened brow will save me + From the doom of Odin’s dead. + + “Row me in your skiff, my husband, + On the eve of good St. John; + Take me back to Boray Island, + Lay me on the sands adown. + + “Clasping fast the Cross of Jesus, + I must meet the dead alone; + If they still have power o’er me, + Ere day breaks I shall be gone. + + “All alone you needs must leave me; + Pass in fast and prayer the time; + And return when o’er the waters + Peals St. Magnus’ midnight chime. + + “And if Cross and Chrism guard me + From the sway of spirits foul, + Then, my husband, know for certain + Christ will save my ransomed soul.” + + All her bidding he accomplished, + Though his heart was sad and sore: + On the fated eve he took her, + Laid her down on Boray shore; + + Went where he no more could see her, + To the islet’s farthest bound. + Soon he heard the ghostly dancers + With wild cries his wife surround. + + All the evening long they tried her, + Tempting her to turn again, + With weird strains of love or threatening, + To her life below the main. + + Sadly Eric watched and waited, + Passed in fast and prayer the time, + Till at last, o’er rippling water, + Pealed St. Magnus’ midnight chime. + + Then he rose, and hastened to her; + Found her on the lonely sands, + Lying with the Cross of Jesus + Claspèd in her folded hands. + + To the Islands of the Blessed + Margaret’s ransomed soul had fled, + And a smile of victory lingered + On her lips, though cold and dead. + + ALICE L. DUNDAS + (The Honourable Mrs. John Dundas). + +[1] Boray Island, or Holm of Boray, off Millburn Bay in Gairsay. + +[2] Midsummer Eve. + +[Illustration] + + + + +SONGS OF THE GODS. + + +The Challenge of Thor. + + I am the God Thor, + I am the War God, + I am the Thunderer! + Here in my Northland, + My fastness and fortress, + Reign I for ever! + + Here amid icebergs + Rule I the nations. + This is my hammer, + Miölner the mighty; + Giants and sorcerers + Cannot withstand it! + + These are the gauntlets + Wherewith I wield it + And hurl it afar off. + This is my girdle; + Whenever I brace it + Strength is redoubled! + + The light thou beholdest + Stream through the heavens + In flashes of crimson + Is but my red beard + Blown by the night-wind, + Affrighting the nations! + + Jove is my brother; + Mine eyes are the lightning; + The wheels of my chariot + Roll in the thunder, + The blows of my hammer + Ring in the earthquake! + + Force rules the world still, + Has ruled it, shall rule it; + Meekness is weakness, + Strength is triumphant, + Over the whole earth + Still is it Thor’s Day! + + Thou art a God too. + O Galilean! + And thus single-handed + Unto the combat, + Gauntlet or Gospel, + Here I defy Thee! + + LONGFELLOW. + + +Tegner’s Drapa.[3] + + I heard a voice that cried, + “Balder the Beautiful + Is dead, is dead!” + And through the misty air + Passed like the mournful cry + Of sunward sailing cranes. + + I saw the pallid corpse + Of the dead sun + Borne through the Northern sky. + Blasts from Niffelheim + Lifted the sheeted mists + Around him as he passed. + + And the voice for ever cried, + “Balder the Beautiful + Is dead, is dead!” + And died away + Through the dreary night, + In accents of despair. + + Balder the Beautiful, + God of the summer sun, + Fairest of all the Gods! + Light from his forehead beamed, + Runes were upon his tongue, + As on the warrior’s sword. + + All things in earth and air + Bound were by magic spell + Never to do him harm; + Even the plants and stones— + All save the mistletoe, + The sacred mistletoe! + + Hœder, the blind old God, + Whose feet are shod with silence, + Pierced through that gentle breast + With his sharp spear, by fraud + Made of the mistletoe, + The accursed mistletoe! + + They laid him in his ship, + With horse and harness, + As on a funeral pyre. + Odin placed + A ring upon his finger, + And whispered in his ear. + + They launched the burning ship! + It floated far away + Over the misty sea, + Till like the sun it seemed, + Sinking beneath the waves. + Balder returned no more! + + So perish the old Gods! + But out of the sea of Time + Rises a new land of song, + Fairer than the old. + Over its meadows green + Walk the young bards and sing. + + Build it again, + O ye bards, + Fairer than before! + Ye fathers of the new race, + Feed upon morning dew, + Sing the new Song of Love! + + The law of force is dead! + The law of love prevails! + Thor, the Thunderer, + Shall rule the earth no more, + No more, with threats, + Challenge the meek Christ. + + Sing no more, + O ye bards of the North, + Of Vikings and of Jarls! + Of the days of Eld + Preserve the freedom only, + Not the deeds of blood. + + LONGFELLOW. + +[3] The Song of Tegner, a Swedish poet. + + + + +THE SONG OF HAROLD HARFAGER. + + + The sun is rising dimly red, + The wind is wailing low and dread; + From his cliff the eagle sallies, + Leaves the wolf his darksome valleys; + In the mist the ravens hover, + Peep the wild-dogs from the cover— + Screaming, croaking, baying, yelling, + Each in his wild accents telling, + “Soon we feast on dead and dying, + Fair-haired Harold’s flag is flying.” + + Many a crest in air is streaming, + Many a helmet darkly gleaming, + Many an arm the axe uprears, + Doomed to hew the wood of spears. + All along the crowded ranks, + Horses neigh and armour clanks, + Chiefs are shouting, clarions ringing, + Louder still the bard is singing, + “Gather, footmen—gather, horsemen, + To the field, ye valiant Norsemen! + + “Halt ye not for food or slumber, + View not vantage, count not number; + Jolly reapers, forward still; + Grow the crop on vale or hill, + Thick or scattered, stiff or lithe, + It shall down before the scythe. + Forward with your sickles bright, + Reap the harvest of the fight— + Onward, footmen—onward, horsemen, + To the charge, ye gallant Norsemen! + + “Fatal choosers of the slaughter, + O’er you hovers Odin’s daughter; + Hear the choice she spreads before ye— + Victory, and wealth, and glory; + Or old Valhalla’s roaring Hail, + Her ever-circling mead and ale, + Where for eternity unite + The joys of wassail and of fight. + Headlong forward, foot and horsemen, + Charge and fight, and die like Norsemen!” + + SIR WALTER SCOTT. + +[Illustration: _A woodland path, Binscarth._] + + + + +KING HACON’S LAST BATTLE. + + + All was over; day was ending + As the foemen turned and fled. + Gloomy red + Glowed the angry sun descending; + While round Hacon’s dying bed + Tears and songs of triumph blending + Told how fast the conqueror bled. + + “Raise me,” said the king. We raised him— + Not to ease his desperate pain; + That were vain! + “Strong our foe was—but we faced him: + Show me that red field again.” + Then with reverent hands we placed him + High above the battle plain. + + Sudden on our startled hearing + Came the low-breathed, stern command,— + “Lo! ye stand? + Linger not—the night is nearing; + Bear me downwards to the strand, + Where my ships are idly steering + Off and on, in sight of land.” + + Every whispered word obeying, + Swift we bore him down the steep, + O’er the deep, + Up the tall ship’s side, low swaying + To the storm-wind’s powerful sweep, + And his dead companions laying + Round him—we had time to weep. + + But the king said, “Peace! bring hither + Spoils and weapons, battle-strown— + Make no moan; + Leave me and my dead together; + Light my torch, and then—begone.” + But we murmured, each to other, + “Can we leave him thus alone?” + + Angrily the king replieth; + Flashed the awful eye again + With disdain: + “Call him not _alone_ who lieth + Low among such noble slain; + Call him not _alone_ who dieth + Side by side with gallant men.” + + Slowly, sadly we departed; + Reached again that desolate shore, + Never more + Trod by him, the brave, true-hearted, + Dying in that dark ship’s core! + Sadder keel from land ne’er parted, + Nobler freight none ever bore! + + There we lingered, seaward gazing, + Watching o’er that living tomb, + Through the gloom— + Gloom which awful light is chasing— + Blood-red flames the surge illume! + Lo! King Hacon’s ship is blazing; + ’Tis the hero’s self-sought doom. + + Right before the wild wind driving, + Madly plunging—stung by fire— + No help nigh her— + Lo! the ship has ceased her striving! + Mount the red flames higher, higher, + Till, on ocean’s verge arriving, + Sudden sinks the Viking’s pyre— + Hacon’s gone! + + LORD DUFFERIN. + + + + +THE DEATH OF HACO. + + + The summer is gone, Haco, Haco; + The yellow year is fled; + And the winter is come, Haco, + That numbers thee with the dead! + + When the year was young, Haco, Haco, + And the skies were blue and bright, + Thou didst sweep the seas, Haco, + Like a bird with wings of might. + + With thine oaken galley, proudly, + And thy gilded dragon-prow, + O’er the bounding billows, Haco, + Like a sea-god thou didst go. + + With thy barons gaily, gaily, + All in proof of burnished mail, + In the voes of Orkney, Haco, + Thou didst spread thy prideful sail; + + And the sturdy men of Caithness, + And the land of the Mackay, + And the men of Stony Parf, Haco, + Knew that Norway’s king was nigh. + + And the men of utmost Lewis, Haco, + And Skye, with winding kyles, + And Macdougall’s country, Haco, + Knew the monarch of the isles. + + And the granite peaks of Arran, + And the rocks that fence the Clyde, + Saw thy daring Norsemen, Haco, + Ramping o’er the Scottish tide. + + But scaith befell thee, Haco, Haco! + Thou wert faithful, thou wert brave; + But not truth might shield thee, Haco, + From a false and shuffling knave. + + The crafty King of Scots, Haco, + Who might not bar thy way, + Beguiled thee, honest Haco, + With lies that bred delay. + + And hasty winter, Haco, Haco, + Came and tripped the summer’s heels, + And rent the sails of Haco + And swamped his conquering keels. + + Woe is me for Haco, Haco! + On Lorn and Mull and Skye + The hundred ships of Haco + In a thousand fragments lie! + + And thine oaken galley, Haco, + That sailed with kingly pride, + Came shorn and shattered, Haco, + Through the foaming Pentland tide. + + And thy heart sunk, Haco, Haco, + And thou felt that thou must die, + When the bay of Kirkwall, Haco, + Thou beheld with drooping eye. + + And they led thee, Haco, Haco, + To the bishop’s lordly hall, + Where thy woe-struck barons, Haco, + Stood to see the mighty fall. + + And the purple churchmen, Haco, + Stood to hold thy royal head, + And good words of hope to Haco + From the Holy Book they read. + + Then out spake the dying Haco, + “Dear are God’s dear words to me, + But read the book to Haco + Of the kings that ruled the sea.” + + Then they read to dying Haco + From the ancient saga hoar, + Of Holden and of Harold, + When his fathers worshipped Thor, + + And they shrove the dying Haco, + And they prayed his bed beside; + And with holy unction Haco + Drooped his kingly head and died. + + And in parade of death, Haco, + They stretched thee on thy bed, + With a purple vest for Haco, + And a garland on his head. + + And around thee, Haco, Haco, + Were tapers burning bright, + And masses were sung for Haco + By day and eke by night. + + And they bore thee, Haco, Haco, + To holy Magnus’ shrine, + And beside his sainted bones, Haco, + They chastely coffined thine. + + And above thee, Haco, Haco, + To deck thy dreamless bed, + All crisp with gold for Haco, + A purple pall they spread. + + And around thee, Haco, Haco, + Where the iron sleep thou slept, + Through the long, dark winter, Haco, + A solemn watch they kept. + + And at early burst of springtime, + When the birds sang out with glee, + They took the body of Haco + In a ship across the sea— + + Across the sea to Norway, + Where thy sires make moan for thee, + That the last of his race was Haco, + Who ruled the Western Sea. + + And they laid thee, Haco, Haco, + With thy sires on the Norway shore, + And far from the isles of the sea, Haco, + That know thy name no more. + + JOHN STUART BLACKIE. + (_From “Lays of the Highlands and Islands.” By permission + of the Walter Scott Publishing Company._) + +[Illustration: _A modern war-fleet in Kirkwall Bay._] + + + + +THE OLD MAN OF HOY. + + + The Old Man of Hoy + Looks out on the sea, + Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free; + He looks on the broad Atlantic sea, + And the Old Man of Hoy + Hath this great joy, + To hear the deep roar of the wide blue ocean, + And to stand unmoved ’mid the sleepless motion, + And to feel o’er his head + The white foam spread + From the wild wave proudly swelling; + And to care no whit + For the storm’s rude fit, + Where he stands on his old rock-dwelling— + This rare Old Man of Hoy. + + The Old Man of Hoy + Looks out on the sea, + Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free; + He looks on the broad Atlantic sea, + And the Old Man of Hoy + Hath this great joy, + To look on the flight of the wild seamew, + With their hoar nests hung o’er the waters blue; + To see them swing + On plunging wing, + And to hear their shrill notes swelling, + And with them to reply + To the storm’s war-cry, + As he stands on his old rock-dwelling— + This rare Old Man of Hoy.... + + The Old Man of Hoy + Looks out on the sea, + Where the tide runs strong and the wave rides free; + He looks on the broad Atlantic sea, + And the Old Man of Hoy + Hath this great joy, + To think on the pride of the sea-kings old— + Harolds and Ronalds and Sigurds bold— + Whose might was felt + By the cowering Celt + When he heard their war-cry yelling. + But the sea-kings are gone, + And he stands alone, + Firm on his old rock-dwelling— + This stout Old Man of Hoy. + + But listen to me, + Old Man of the Sea, + List to the Skulda that speaketh by me: + The Nornies are weaving a web for thee, + Thou Old Man of Hoy, + To ruin thy joy, + And to make thee shrink from the lash of the ocean, + And teach thee to quake with a strange commotion, + When over thy head + And under thy bed + The rampant wave is swelling; + And thou shalt die + ’Neath a pitiless sky, + And reel from thy old rock-dwelling— + Thou stout Old Man of Hoy! + + JOHN STUART BLACKIE. + (_From “Lays of the Highlands and Islands.” By permission + of the Walter Scott Publishing Company._) + + + + +ORKNEY. + + + The parting beam of autumn smiles + A farewell o’er these lonely isles; + Capped with its fire, the mountains soar + Like lighted beacons on the shore, + While far beneath, in depth profound, + The tides roll through each darksome sound— + Those passes where the troubled sea + Hurries with roar and revelry; + Where waves dash on in headlong haste, + By a wide world of waters prest. + Here ruined hall and nodding tower + Hint darkly at departed power, + Their domeless walls, time-worn and gray, + Give dimly back the evening ray, + Like gleams from days long past away. + + Saint Magnus! pile of ages fled, + Thou temple of the quick and dead! + While they who raised thy form sublime + Have faded from the things of time; + While hands that reared, and heads that planned, + Have passed into the silent land, + Still hath thy mighty fabric stood + ’Mid sweeping blast and sheeted flood. + Above thy tower and turrets tall + The thunder-cloud hath spread its pall, ... + And muttered o’er thine airy height + Its bursting accents to the night: + Though oft the wild and wintry storm + Hath reeled around thy towering form, + The mighty pile still proudly rears + Its head above the wreck of years. + + As through thy pillared aisles I tread, + Where rest the gone forgotten dead, + Each step a mournful echo calls + To wander through the dreary walls; + The sullen sounds they backward throw, + Which falter into whispers low. + Each tombstone’s frail and crumbling frame + Preserves not e’en an airy name; + The lines by Friendship’s fingers traced, + Now touched by Time’s, are half effaced; + The few faint letters lingering still + Are all the dead man’s chronicle. + + How often have the guests who ranged + Thy sacred labyrinths been changed! + Of crowds, who sang their anthems here, + How still each tongue—how deaf each ear!... + + But thou like them must pass away + Beneath the hand of pale decay; + Even now thy towering turrets feel + The weight of ages o’er them steal; + Thy summit in its airy waste + Rocks to the rude and rushing blast; + When years that wander o’er thee call + Thy time-struck fabric to its fall, + Thy mouldering columns lone and gray + Shall shelter then the bird of prey; + Each worshipless recess shall be + Place for their frightful revelry; + The raven’s hoarse and funeral note + Shall o’er sepulchral ruins float.... + + Still doth the ruined palace stand, + A crumbling relic in the land—Tenantless + fabric, huge and high, + And proud in ruined majesty; + The verdant ivy robes thy wall, + Weeds are the dwellers in thy hall, + And in the wind the tufted grass + Waves o’er thy dim and mouldering mass, + And freshly each returning spring + Blooms o’er thy mortal withering. + On darkening piles, and waning wrecks, + A gay green garment oft is spread; + For ruin, as in mockery, decks + The faded victims she hath made. + + With time and tempest thou art bent, + A drear, neglected monument, + Lorn as some frail and aged one + Who lives when all his friends are gone!— + Where is thy voice of music?—where + The strains that hushed the midnight air, + When Beauty woke her witching song, + And spellbound held the festive throng?— + A narrow and a nameless grave + Hath closed upon the fair and brave, + And all around is deadly still, + Save when, from some high pinnacle, + The raven’s croak, or owlet’s wail, + Blends with the sighing of the gale.... + + The hoary rocks, of giant size, + That o’er the land in circles rise, + Of which tradition may not tell, + Fit circles for the wizard’s spell, + Seen far amidst the scowling storm, + Seem each a tall and phantom form, + As hurrying vapours o’er them flee, + Frowning in grim society, + While like a dread voice from the past + Around them mourns the autumnal blast.... + + Yet not the works of man alone, + Though hallowed by long ages gone, + Charm us away in musing mood; + Bear witness each grim solitude, + ’Mid Hoy’s high shadowy mountain walls + Where mournfully the twilight falls: + There bosomed in a deep recess + Sleeps a dim vale of loneliness, + The circling hills, all bleak and wild, + Are o’er its slumbers darkly piled, + Save on one side, where far below + The everlasting waters flow, + And round the precipices vast + Dance to the music of the blast.... + + There rocks of ages sternly throw + Their shadows o’er a world below, + And fierce and fast each dark-brown flood + Careering comes in maddening mood: + O’er the sheer cliffs the waters flash, + And down in whitest columns dash, + Till, far away, we scarce can hear + Their dying falls and murmurs drear, + As, bursting o’er the dizzy verge, + They melt into the boiling surge. + + Here, when, perchance, the voice of men + Is heard within the fairy glen, + Deep muttering echoes start around, + And rocks of gloom fling back the sound, + While from their fragments, rent and riven, + A thousand airy dwellers driven, + Send forth a wild and dreary scream. + Like such as breaks a fearful dream + When Conscience to the sleeper’s gaze + Holds up the view of other days.... + + When, by Night’s mantle hooded o’er, + The heaving hills are seen no more, + Oft blended with the torrent’s dash + Are heard the thunder’s startling crash, + And burst of billows on the shore, + Like cannon’s deep and distant roar, + By echoes answered loud and fast, + That gallop on the midnight blast, + As if the Spirit of the vale + Heard in his cave the stormy wail, + And to the tempest rolling by + Shrieked loud his frightful mockery.... + + Where cairns of slumbering chiefs are piled, + And frown above the waters wild, + Rear their hoar heads, forlorn and dim, + Upon the ocean’s lonely brim, + There the fierce storm and maddening surge + Howl loud and long the warrior’s dirge, + And blended there together rave + Through many a deep and dreary cave, + And waken from their sullen lair + Sea-monsters, darkly slumbering there. + + Seen from those death-towers of the flood, + The ocean’s mighty solitude + Widens through boundless space around, + Vast, melancholy, lone, profound; + So vast that thought with weary wing + Droops o’er its distant wandering, + And, left behind, again returns + To muse upon the mouldering urns.... + + As the rude brush of evening’s wind + Leaves not a lingering trace behind + Of landscapes living in the stream, + Like the dim scenery of a dream + Called up by Fancy’s wizard wand, + When Sense is sealed by Slumber’s hand; + So Time’s drear blast hath swept along + Alike from record and from song + Their very names, who now lie hid + Beneath each dusky pyramid; + And all that hint of them are graves + Where the green flag of ruin waves, + Or crumbling remnant of the past + That ivy shelters from the blast, + And clings to still when others flee, + Like true love in adversity. + + On Noltland’s solitary pile + The last blush of the dying day + Plays like a melancholy smile + And hectic glow on pale decay ... + The moss of years is on the wall, + And fitfully the night-winds start + Through Bothwell’s roofless ruined hall, + Like sobs of sorrow from the heart; + Upon each floor of cold, damp sod + The clustering weeds like hearse-plumes nod; + Through chambers desolate and green + Hoots the gray owl at evening’s close. + Meant for far other guests, I ween— + Where wave-worn Beauty might repose, + And find that bliss in Love’s caress + Which hallows scenes of loneliness. + + See Hoy’s Old Man, whose summit bare + Pierces the dark-blue fields of air, + Based in the sea, his fearful form + Glooms like the spirit of the storm, + An ocean Babel, rent and worn + By time and tide—all wild and lorn— + A giant that hath warred with heaven, + Whose ruined scalp seems thunder-riven, + Whose form the misty spray doth shroud, + Whose head the dark and hovering cloud, + Around his dread and lowering mass, + In sailing swarms the sea-fowl pass, + But when the night-cloud o’er the sea + Hangs like a sable canopy, + And when the flying storm doth scourge + Around his base the rushing surge, + Swift to his airy clefts they soar, + And sleep amidst the tempest’s roar, + Or with its howling round his peak + Mingle their drear and dreamy shriek. + + The dying day has had its rest + Upon the mountain’s lofty crest; + Now, o’er the ocean it has fled, + And to the past is gathered; + From stunted shrubs of foliage bared + The farewell melodies are heard; + The twilight spreads a duskier veil + Upon the deep and lonely dale, + And, moaning to the evening star, + The mountain stream is heard afar. + The twilight fades and night again + Claims from our time her portioned reign; + Earth sets, and leaves us to admire + Yon vaulted canopy of fire, + Those burning glories of the sky, + Those “sparks of immortality,” + Which shed from high their living light, + And blaze through the blue depths of night.... + + At such an hour, should music stray + Soft from some isle, far, far away, + It seems to charm to silent sleep + The murmurs of the mighty deep; + The torrent, as it speeds along, + Stills its dark waters to the song, + And the full bosom feels relief, + Soothed by the mystic “joy of grief;” + Upon the heart-chords stealing slow, + It hallows every cherished woe, + And wakes sensations in the mind, + Wild, beautiful, and undefined, + As tones that harp-strings give the wind. + + Oh! at such soul-inspiring strain + The wondrous links of memory’s chain, + Though scattered far, unite again, + And Time and Distance strive in vain. + Again Youth’s fairy visions pass + In morning glow o’er Memory’s glass, + At every magic melting fall + They come like echoes to their call, + And with the dreams of vanished years + Steal forth again our smiles and tears. + + JOHN MALCOLM. + + + + +SCENES FROM “THE BUCCANEER.” + + +Night. + + Night walked in beauty o’er the peaceful sea, + Whose gentle waters spake tranquillity; + With dreamy lull the rolling billow broke + In hollow murmurs on the distant rock; + The sea-bird wailed along the airy steep; + The creak of distant oar was on the deep. + So still the scene, the boatman’s voice was heard; + The listening ear could almost catch each word; + From isles remote the house-dog’s fitful bay + Came floating o’er the waters far away; + And homeward wending o’er the silent hill, + The lonely shepherd’s song and whistle shrill; + The lulling murmur of the mountain flood, + That sung its night-hymn to the solitude; + The curlew’s wild and desolate farewell, + As slow she sailed adown the darksome dell; + The heathcock whirring o’er the heathy vale; + The mateless plover’s far-forsaken wail; + The rush of tides that round the islands ran, + And danced like maniacs in the moonlight wan,— + All formed a scene so wild, and yet so fair, + As might have wooed the heart from dreams of care, + If aught had charms to soothe, or balm to heal, + The pangs that guilt is ever doomed to feel.... + + +Morning. + + Day dawns, and from the main the mist is furled, + The night-cloak of a solitary world; + And slow emerging from the fleecy cloud + The mountains soar like giants from the shroud. + High o’er the rest, and towering to the storm, + Glooms o’er the ocean Hoy’s majestic form; + From his lone head, as roll the clouds away, + Behold Creation bursting into day, + As first it broke from night and nothingness, + When the Great Spirit brooded o’er the abyss. + How calm and clear the boundless waters seem, + As if awakening from a heavenly dream; + The little isles within their bosom lie, + Like dwellers in a bright infinity; + The crag terrific beetling o’er the west + Beholds the heaven reflected in their breast. + The dark-brown hills embrace each silent bay + That loves amid their solitude to stray; + And far beneath, with low sepulchral sound, + Moans the dark torrent through the dell profound; + And from the thunder-throne, the mountain cairn, + Shrieks to the waste the solitary erne.... + Scenes of my song, of earliest smiles and tears, + Ye wake the memories of departed years! + The distant murmur of your mountain streams + Steals o’er my spirit with departed dreams, + With many a tale and recollected lay, + Which, like the twilight of an autumn day, + Faint on your shores, of wonderful and wild, + Meet for the musing moods of Fancy’s child. + There have I roamed o’er many a soaring steep + When the last day-gleam died along the deep, + And o’er the still and solitary land, + The distant music of the reaper band + Came soft and mournful on the pensive soul, + As mermaid’s siren song o’er ocean’s roll. + There have I gazed upon the pathless seas, + As on the gates of two eternities— + Far east, where future days shall gild the wave, + And west, where all the past hath found a grave. + + JOHN MALCOLM. + + + + +TO ORKNEY. + + + Land of the whirlpool, torrent, foam, + Where oceans meet in maddening shock; + The beetling cliff, the shelving holm, + The dark, insidious rock; + Land of the bleak, the treeless moor, + The sterile mountain, seared and riven; + The shapeless cairn, the ruined tower, + Scathed by the bolts of heaven; + The yawning gulf, the treacherous sand;— + I love thee still, my native land! + + Land of the dark, the Runic rhyme, + The mystic ring, the cavern hoar, + The Scandinavian seer, sublime + In legendary lore; + Land of a thousand sea-kings’ graves— + Those tameless spirits of the past, + Fierce as their subject Arctic waves, + Or hyperborean blast; + Though polar billows round thee foam, + I love thee!—thou wert once my home. + + With glowing heart and island lyre, + Ah! would some native bard arise + To sing, with all a poet’s fire, + Thy stern sublimities— + The roaring flood, the rushing stream, + The promontory wild and bare, + The pyramid where sea-birds scream + Aloft in middle air, + The Druid temple on the heath, + Old even beyond tradition’s breath. + + Though I have roamed through verdant glades, + In cloudless climes, ’neath azure skies; + Or plucked from beauteous Orient meads + Flowers of celestial dyes; + Though I have laved in limpid streams + That murmur over golden sands, + Or basked amid the fulgent beams + That flame o’er fairer lands; + Or stretched me in the sparry grot,— + My country! thou wert ne’er forgot. + + DAVID VEDDER. + (Native of Deerness; 1790-1854.) + + + + +THE TEMPLE OF NATURE. + + + Talk not of temples; there is _one_, + Built without hands, to mankind given. + Its lamps are the meridian sun + And all the stars of heaven; + Its walls are the cerulean sky; + Its floor the earth so green and fair; + The dome is vast immensity,— + All nature worships there! + + The Alps, arrayed in stainless snow, + The Andean ranges yet untrod, + At sunrise and at sunset glow + Like altar-fires to God! + A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze, + As if with hallowed victims rare; + And thunder lifts its voice in praise,— + All nature worships there! + + The ocean heaves resistlessly, + And pours his glittering treasures forth; + His waves, the priesthood of the sea, + Kneel on the shell-gemmed earth, + And there emit a hollow sound, + As if they murmured praise and prayer; + On every side ’tis hallowed ground,— + All nature worships there! + + The grateful earth her odours yield + In homage, Mighty One, to Thee, + From herbs and flowers in every field, + From fruit on every tree; + The balmy dew, at morn and even, + Seems like the penitential tear, + Shed only in the sight of Heaven,— + All nature worships there! + + The cedar and the mountain pine, + The willow on the fountain’s brim, + The tulip and the eglantine, + In reverence bend to Him; + The song-birds pour their sweetest lays + From tower, and tree, and middle air; + The rushing river murmurs praise,— + All nature worships there! + + Then talk not of a fane, save _one_, + Built without hands, to mankind given. + Its lamps are the meridian sun + And all the stars of heaven; + Its walls are the cerulean sky; + Its floor the earth so green and fair; + The dome is vast immensity,— + All nature worships there! + + DAVID VEDDER. + + + + +APPENDIX I. + +CHRONOLOGY OF ORCADIAN HISTORY TO THE END OF THE EARLDOM, WITH RELATED +CONTEMPORARY EVENTS. + + +Certain historians assign earlier dates than those given below to the +events before 933. The chronology adopted here is that which harmonizes +best with the dates of events in other lands during that period. +Approximate dates are marked “c” (circa); events not directly connected +with the Earldom are in square brackets, and their dates in lighter type. + + A.D. + =78= (c.) Agricola’s visit to Orkney. + 563. [Columba in Scotland.] + =580= (c.) Cormac’s missionary journey to Orkney. + 597. [Augustine in England.] + 787. [First recorded appearance of Vikings in England.] + 800 (c.) [First period of Norse colonization begins.] + 841. [Rouen taken by the Norsemen.] + 852. [Norse kingdom established in Dublin.] + 862. [Rurik founds the Norse line in Russia.] + 871. [Alfred the Great King of England.] + 885. [Siege of Paris by the Norsemen.] + =900.= Battle of Harfursfirth—Second period of Norse colonization + begins. + — [Iceland colonized by Norsemen.] + =901= (c.) Harald Fairhair in Orkney—Earldom established. + — Sigurd I. earl. + =905= (c.) Battle with Maelbrigda of Ross—Sigurd’s death. + — Guttorm, Sigurd’s son, earl. + =907= (c.) Hallad, son of Rognvald, Earl of Moeri, earl. + =910.= Einar I. (Torf Einar), Rognvald’s son, earl. + 912. [Rolf or Rollo, Rognvald’s son, Duke of Normandy.] + =933.= Arnkell, Erlend I., and Thorfinn I., Einar’s sons, + joint-earls. + 950. [King Eric (Bloody axe) expelled from Norway.] + =954.= Eric and Earls Arnkell and Erlend fall at battle of + Stainsmoor. + =963.= Arnfinn, Havard, Ljot, and Hlodve, Thorfinn’s sons, + joint-earls. + =980.= Sigurd II. (the Stout), Hlodve’s son, earl. + 980. [Discovery of Greenland by the Norsemen.] + 986. [Discovery of America (Vinland) by the Norsemen.] + =995.= Conversion of Sigurd to Christianity by Olaf Tryggvason. + 998. [Olaf Tryggvason, King of Norway.] + =1014.= Battle of Clontarf—Death of Earl Sigurd. + — Sumarlid, Einar II., Brusi, and (later) Thorfinn II., + Sigurd’s sons, joint-earls. + 1015. [Olaf the Saint King of Norway.] + =1015.= Death of Earl Sumarlid. + 1017. [Knut (Canute) King of England.] + =1020.= Murder of Einar II. + 1027. [Norse kingdom established in Southern Italy.] + 1030. [Battle of Sticklestad—Death of St. Olaf.] + =1031.= Death of Earl Brusi—Thorfinn II. sole earl. + — Rognvald, Brusi’s son, claims a share of the earldom. + =1045.= Battle in the Pentland Firth between Rognvald and Thorfinn. + =1046.= Murder of Rognvald in Papa Stronsay. + 1056. [Malcolm Canmore King of Scotland.] + =1057.= Christ’s Kirk in Birsay founded. + =1064.= Death of Thorfinn; his sons Paul I. and Erlend II. + joint-earls. + =1066.= Harald Hardradi visits Orkney. + — Harold, Godwin’s son, King of England. + — Battle of Stamford Bridge. + — Invasion of Duke William of Normandy—Battle of Hastings. + 1087. [Moorish Empire established in Spain.] + 1096. [First Crusade.] + =1098.= Magnus (Barefoot), King of Norway, sends the Orkney earls + to Norway, and makes his son Sigurd “King” of Orkney. + 1103. [Death of Magnus—Sigurd King of Norway.] + =1103.= Hakon, Paul’s son, and Magnus, Erlend’s son, joint-earls. + =1115.= Murder of Earl Magnus (St. Magnus) in Egilsay. + =1122.= Death of Earl Hakon; his sons Harald I. and Paul II. + joint-earls. + =1127.= Death of Harald—Paul sole earl. + =1129.= Rognvald II. (Kali) appointed joint-earl by King Sigurd. + =1135.= Rognvald’s first expedition to claim the earldom. + — St. Magnus Church, Egilsay, founded. + =1136.= Rognvald’s second expedition—Earl Paul kidnapped by Sweyn + Asleifson. + =1137.= St. Magnus Cathedral founded. + =1139.= Harald II. (Maddadson) joint-earl. + =1151.= Crusaders winter in Orkney. + =1152.= Earl Rognvald’s Crusade to Jerusalem. + =1154.= Erlend III. joint-earl. + =1156.= Death of Erlend III. + =1158.= Earl Rognvald killed. + =1171.= Sweyn Asleifson’s last cruise and death at Dublin. + 1171. [English invasion of Ireland.] + =1175.= Abbot Laurentius transferred from Orkney (Eynhallow) to + Melrose. + 1194. [Battle of Floravoe, near Bergen; defeat of the + “Island-beardies.”] + =1196.= Shetland separated from the Orkney earldom. + =1197.= Harald III. (the Young), grandson of Rognvald, joint-earl. + =1198.= Death of Harald the Young. + =1206.= Death of Earl Harald II. (Maddadson); his sons David and + John joint-earls. + =1214.= Death of Earl David. + 1214. [Alexander II. King of Scotland.] + 1215. [Magna Charta granted in England.] + =1222.= Burning of Bishop Adam in Caithness. + — Death of Bjarne, the poet-bishop of Orkney. + =1231.= Death of John, the last earl of the Norse line. + =1232.= Magnus II., the first of the Angus line, earl. + — Loss of ship carrying the chief men of the Isles from + Norway. + =1239.= Gilbride I. earl. + ? Gilbride II. earl. + 1249. [Alexander III. King of Scotland.] + =1256.= Magnus III. earl. + =1263.= King Hakon’s expedition—Battle of Largs—Death of Hakon at + Kirkwall. + =1266.= Treaty of Perth—“Annual of Norway” established. + =1276.= Magnus IV. earl. + =1284.= John II. earl. + 1286. [Death of Alexander III. of Scotland—Margaret of Norway + heiress to the crown.] + 1292. [Death of Margaret the “Maid of Norway.”] + 1306. [Robert Bruce King of Scotland. According to a tradition, + the credibility of which is supported by various lines + of evidence, Bruce passed the winter of 1306-7 in + Orkney, not in the island of Rathlin.] + =1310.= Magnus V. earl. + 1312. [Treaty of Perth confirmed at Inverness.] + 1314. [Battle of Bannockburn.] + =1325.= Death of Earl Magnus V.; end of the Angus line. + — Malise of Stratherne earl. + =1353.= Erngisl earl. + =1379.= Death of Earl Erngisl; end of the Stratherne line. + — Henry I. (St. Clair) earl—Shetland restored to the earldom. + — Union of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark (Union of Calmar). + =1400.= Henry II. (St. Clair) earl. + 1406. [Prince James of Scotland captured by the English when on + his way to France.] + =1420.= Bishop William Tulloch, commissioner in Orkney for the + Crown of Norway. + =1423.= David Menzies of Wemyss commissioner. + =1434.= William St. Clair earl, the last earl under Norse rule. + 1453. [Constantinople taken by the Turks.] + =1468.= Orkney and Shetland pledged to the Scottish Crown. + — Marriage of James III. of Scotland to Margaret of Denmark. + =1471.= Lands and revenues of Earl William purchased by the + Scottish Crown. + =1472.= Bishop William Tulloch appointed to collect Crown revenues. + =1485.= Henry St. Clair representative of the Crown. + 1492. [First voyage of Columbus.] + 1497. [Voyage of Cabot to Labrador.] + =1513.= Battle of Flodden—Death of Henry St. Clair. + 1524. [Union of Calmar dissolved.] + =1529.= Battle of Summerdale. + =1540.= James V. of Scotland visits Orkney. + 1542. [Mary Queen of Scots born.] + =1565.= Lord Robert Stewart obtains a feu charter of Orkney and + Shetland. + 1567. [Mary Queen of Scots deposed—James VI. proclaimed—Flight + of Bothwell to Orkney and Shetland.] + =1568.= The Islands resumed by the Crown of Scotland. + =1581.= Lord Robert Stewart earl. + 1588. [The Armada.] + =1592.= Earl Patrick Stewart obtains the Islands. + 1603. [Union of the Crowns of Scotland and England.] + =1614.= Execution of Earl Patrick. + + + + +APPENDIX II. + +NORSE WORDS IN ORKNEY PLACE-NAMES. + + +The following is a list of the Norse words most commonly found in +place-names in Orkney, with their meaning. The forms in which they now +appear, as names or parts of names, are given in italic, except where the +old form is preserved with little change. + +1. LAND FEATURES. + + =Ass=, ridge; _-house_. + =Bjarg=, rocky hill; _-berry_, _-ber_. + =Bratt=, steep; _brett-_. + =Brekka=, slope; _-breck_. + =Dal=, valley; _-dale_, _-dall_. + =Fjall=, hill; _-fell_, _-fea_, _-fiold_. + =Gil=, narrow glen; _-gill_. + =Grjot=, gravel; _grut-_. + =Hals=, neck, col; _hass_. + =Hammar=, crag. + =Haug=, mound; _howe_, _hox-_. + =Hlith=, slope; _-lee_. + =Hvāll=, =hōll=, hill; _hol-_, _hool-_. + =Hvamm=, small valley, grassy slope; _quholm_. + =Kamb=, ridge or crest; _kame_. + =Knapp=, hilltop, knob. + _Kuml_, burial mound; _cumla-_. + =Leir=, clay; _ler-_. + =Mel=, sandbank, sandy downs. + =Mor=, pl. mos, moor; _mous-_, _-mo_. + =Myri=, wet meadow; _-mire_. + =Skal=, soft rock, shale; _skel-_. + =Thufa=, mound; _-too_. + =Varthi=, watch-tower; _ward_, _wart_. + =Voll=, valley; _vel-_, _-wall_. + +2. FRESH WATER. + + =A=, =o=, =or=, burn. + =Brun=, well; _-burn_. + =Fors=, waterfall; _furs-_. + =Kelda=, spring. + =Oss=, burn-mouth; _oyce_. + =Tjörn=, small lake; _-shun_. + =Vatn=, water; _watten_. + +3. SHORE FEATURES. + + =Bakki=, banks; _-back_. + =Barth=, projecting headland (edge of a hill, beak of a ship, etc.). + =Berg=, mass of rock; _-ber_, _-berry_. + =Bringa=, breast; _bring_. + =Eith=, isthmus; _aith_, _-ay_, _-a_. + =Ey=, island; _-ey_, _-ay_, _-a_. + =Eyrr=, gravel beach; _ayre_. + =Fles=, flat skerry; _flashes_. + =Gnüp=, peak; _noup_. + =Hella=, flat rock; _-hellya_. + =Hellir=, cave; _-hellya_. + =Hōlm=, small island. + =Klett=, low rock; _-clett_. + =Muli=, muzzle, lip; _mout_. + =Nef=, növ, nose; _nevi_. + =Nes=, nose; _-ness_. + =Oddi=, sharp point; _od_. + =Sker=, skerry. + =Stakk=, pillar rock; _stack_. + =Tangl=, tongue; _-taing_. + +4. SEA FEATURES. + + =Brim=, surf. + =Efja=, backwater, eddy; _evie_. + =Fjörth=, firth; _firth_, _-ford_. + =Gja=, chasm, creek; _geo_. + =Glup=, throat; _gloup_. + =Hafn=, harbour; _ham_, _hamn-_. + =Hōp=, shallow bay. + =Straum=, tide-stream; _strom-_. + =Vag=, narrow bay; _voe_, _-wall_. + =Vath=, wading-place, ford; _waith_. + =Vik=, bay; _-wick_. + +5. FARMS AND HOUSES. + + =Bolstadr=, dwelling; _-buster_, _-bister_, _-bist_. + =Brū=, bridge; _bro-_. + =Bu=, =bær=, farm; _bu_, _-by_. + =Bygging=, building, from byggja, to settle, to build; _-biggin_. + =Garth=, enclosure, dyke; _-garth_, _-ger_. + =Grind=, gate. + =Hagi=, enclosed pasture; _hack-_. + =Hus=, house. + =Krō=, sheepfold; _-croo_. + =Kvī=, cattle pen; _-quoy_. + =Rett=, sheepfold; _-ret_. + =Sel=, “saeter” hut; _selli-_. + =Setr=, =saetr=, out-pasture; _seatter_, _-setter_, _-ster_. + =Skali=, hall, house; _-skaill_. + =Skipti=, dividing, boundary; _skippi-_. + =Stadr=, homestead; _-ster_, _-sta_. + =Stofa=, room, house; _stove_. + =Thopt=, plot, site of a house; _-toft_, _-taft_. + =Tūn=, enclosure, hedge; _-ton_, _-town_. + +6. MISCELLANEOUS. + + =Djup=, deep; _deep-_, _jub-_. + =Faer=, sheep; _far-_. + =Flat=, flat; _flot-_. + =Gra=, gray. + =Graenn=, green. + =Ha=, high; _ho-_. + =Helgr=, holy; _hellya_. + =Hest=, horse. + =Hrafn=, raven; _ram-_, _ramn-_. + =Hross=, horse; _russ-_. + =Hund=, dog. + =Hvit=, white; _wheetha-_. + =Ling=, heather. + =Mykill=, great; _muckle_. + =Raud=, red; _ro-_. + =Skalp=, ship; _scap-_. + =Skip=, ship. + =Svart=, black; _swart-_. + + + + +APPENDIX III. + +LIST OF BIRDS FOUND IN ORKNEY. + + +Local names are given in brackets. An asterisk (*) indicates that the +bird is not known to breed in the islands. When any bird not in this list +is found, it will usually be worth while to put the fact on record. + + *=Auk, Little= (Rotchie). + + =Blackbird= (Blackie). + =Bunting, Corn= (Chirlie Buntling). + *=Bunting, Snow= (Snowflake). + + =Chaffinch=—_rare_. + =Coot= (Snaith). + =Cormorant= (Palmer, Scarf). + Crow, Hooded (Craa, Hoodie Craa, Grayback). + =Cuckoo=—_rare_. + =Curlew= (Whaup). + + *=Diver, Black-throated=—_rare_. + *=Diver, Great Northern= (Immer Goose). + =Diver, Red-throated.= + *=Dotterel=—_rare_. + =Dove, Ring= (Wood-pigeon)—_rare_. + =Dove, Rock.= + =Dove, Stock.= + =Duck, Eider= (Dunter). + *=Duck, Golden-eye=—_rare_. + =Duck, Long-tailed= (Calloo)—_rare_. + *=Duck, Scaup=—_rare_. + =Duck, Sheld= (Sly-goose). + =Duck, Teal.= + =Duck, Tufted.= + =Duck, Wild= (Stock Duck). + =Dunlin= (Plover-page, Plover-pagick). + + =Falcon, Peregrine.= + *=Fieldfare.= + + =Gannet= or =Solan Goose=. + *=Goose, Bernacle=—_rare_. + *=Goose, Brent.= + *=Goose, Graylag=—_rare_. + =Grebe, Little.= + =Greenfinch= (Green Lintie). + =Grouse, Red= (Muirhen). + =Guillemot, Black= (Tyste). + =Guillemot, Common= (Aak). + =Gull, Black-headed.= + =Gull, Common= (White-maa). + =Gull, Greater Black-backed= (Baakie). + =Gull, Herring= (White-maa). + =Gull, Lesser Black-backed.= + + =Hen Harrier= (Goose-haak). + =Heron, Common.= + + =Jackdaw= (Jackie, Kae). + + =Kestrel= (Moosie Haak). + =Kittiwake= (Kittie, Kittick, Kittiwaako). + + =Lapwing= (Teeack, Teewhup). + =Linnet= (Lintie, Lintick). + + =Merganser, Red-breasted= (Sawbill, Harl, Rantick). + =Merlin.= + =Moorhen= (Waterhen). + + =Owl, Long-eared=—_rare_. + =Owl, Short-eared= (Cattie-face). + =Oyster Catcher= (Skeldro). + + =Petrel, Fulmar.= + =Petrel, Stormy= (Sea-swallow). + =Phalarope, Red-necked.= + =Pipit, Meadow= (Teeting). + =Pipit, Rock= (Tang Sparrow, Tang Teeting). + =Plover, Golden.= + =Plover, Ringed= (Sandlark, Sinlack). + =Pochard.= + =Puffin= (Tammie-norrie). + + =Quail=—_rare_. + + =Rail, Land= (Corncrake). + =Rail, Water=—_rare_. + =Raven= (Corbie). + =Razor-bill= (Cooter-neb). + =Redbreast= (Robin Redbreast). + =Redshank.= + *=Redwing.= + =Rook.= + + *=Sanderling=—_rare_. + =Sandpiper, Common.= + *=Scoter, Common.= + *=Scoter, Surf=—_rare_. + *=Scoter, Velvet.= + =Shag= (Scarf). + =Shearwater, Manx= (Lyrie). + =Shoveller=—_rare_. + =Skua, Richardson’s= (Scootie-allan). + =Skylark= (Laverock, Lavro). + *=Smew=—_rare_. + =Snipe= (Snippick, Horse-gowk). + =Sparrow, Hedge.= + =Sparrow, House= (Sprug). + =Starling= (Stirling, Strill). + *=Stint, Little=—_rare_. + =Stonechat=—_rare_. + *=Swan, Hooper=—_rare_. + + =Tern, Arctic= (Pickie-terno, Rit-tick). + =Tern, Common= (Pickie-terno, Rit-tick). + =Tern, Sandwich=—_rare_. + =Thrush= (Mavis). + *=Turnstone=—_rare_. + =Twite= (Heather Lintie). + + =Wagtail, Pied= (Willie-wagtail). + =Warbler, Sedge=—_rare_. + =Wheatear= (Chackie, Stonechat). + =Whimbrel= (Little Whaup, Summer Whaup)—_rare_. + =Whinchat=—_rare_. + =Widgeon.= + =Woodcock=—_rare_. + =Wren= (Wirenn, Jenny Wren). + =Wren, Gold-crested=—_rare_. + + =Yellowhammer= (Yallow Yarling). + + + + +APPENDIX IV. + +BOOKS FOR FURTHER STUDY. + + +The subjoined list of books is given as a guide to further study by those +who may wish to extend their knowledge of Orkney in any of the aspects +suggested in this book. It is not in any sense a complete list of works +relating to the Islands, nor does it, on the other hand, confine itself +to such works in subjects where general study is the best foundation for +local research. The books marked * are now out of print, and can only be +obtained from libraries, or bought, when occasion offers, from dealers +in second-hand books. As regards books still current, the list may be +helpful to those who are building up school or parish libraries in the +Islands. The most complete bibliography of Orkney and Shetland is the +=List of Books and Pamphlets relating to Orkney and Shetland=, by James +W. Cursiter, F.S.A.Scot. (Wm. Peace and Son, Kirkwall, 1894.) + + +Archæology and Early History. + +*=Orkneyinga Saga.= Translated by Hjaltalin and Goudie. Edited, with +Notes, by Anderson. (Edinburgh, 1873.) The historical introduction by Dr. +Joseph Anderson is of special value. + +=The Orkneyingers’ Saga.= Translated by Sir G. W. Dasent. (London, 1894; +Rolls Edition.) A very fine spirited rendering into English, as may be +seen from the extracts given in the first part of this book. + +=The Saga of Hacon, and a fragment of the Saga of Magnus.= Translated by +Sir G. W. Dasent. (London, 1894; Rolls Edition.) This gives the Norse +account of the battle of Largs, and events leading up to it. + +The Icelandic text of the two preceding books is published in separate +volumes in the same series. + +=The Story of Burnt Njal.= By Sir G. W. Dasent. (Edinburgh, 1861; also a +later and cheaper edition.) This is the finest of the Icelandic sagas. +It deals mainly with life in Iceland, but contains several references +to Orkney under Earl Sigurd the Stout, and the fine description of the +battle of Clontarf quoted in this book. + +=The War of the Gaedhil with the Gaill; or, The Invasion of Ireland +by the Danes and other Norsemen.= Irish text, with translation and +introduction by Jas. H. Todd. (London, 1867; Rolls Edition.) This gives +an account from the Irish point of view of the Norse invasions of Ireland +up to and including the battle of Clontarf. + +=The Heimskringla; or, Chronicles of the Kings of Norway.= Translated by +Samuel Laing. (3 vols., London, 1844; new edition, edited by Dr. R. B. +Anderson, 4 vols., London, 1889.) + +=Heimskringla Saga.= The Saga Library Edition. Translated by Wm. Morris +and Eirikr Magnusson. (4 vols., London, 1893-1905.) The sagas included in +the Heimskringla form a history of the early kings of Norway, and contain +frequent references to Orkney. Snorri Sturlason, the author, ranks among +the greatest of historians. + +=Corpus Poeticum Boreale.= By Gudbrand Vigfusson and F. York Powell. +(2 vols., Oxford, 1883.) This is an almost complete collection of old +Norse Eddic and Court poetry, including poems by Torf Einar, Arnor the +Earl’s poet, Earl Rognvald, and Bishop Bjarni. In a valuable introduction +Vigfusson shows that many of the Eddic lays were written in the western +Norse colonies in the British Isles, and some of them presumably in the +Orkney earldom. + +=Icelandic Primer.= By Henry Sweet. (Oxford, 1886.) + +=Icelandic Prose Reader.= By G. Vigfusson and F. York Powell. (Oxford, +1879.) + +=Icelandic-English Dictionary.= By R. Cleasby. Edited by G. Vigfusson, +with appendix by W. W. Skeat. (London, 1874.) + +The preceding three books form the best equipment for studying the +language of the Norse period. + +=The Dialect and Place-Names of Shetland.= By J. Jakobsen. (Lerwick, +1897.) Many of the place-names explained occur in Orkney. + +=The Vikings in Western Christendom=, by C. F. Keary (London, 1891), +gives an interesting account of the early Viking age, from 789 to 888 A.D. + +=Saga Time=, by J. Fulford Vicary (London, 1887), gives a popular +description of society from the ninth to the eleventh century. + +=Orcades, seu Rerum Orcadensium Historia.= By Thormodus Torfaeus, +Icelandic historian (1697). Translated by Alexander Pope, minister of +Reay. (Wick, 1866.) Only a partial translation. + +*=Account of the Danes and Norwegians in England, Scotland, and Ireland.= +By J. J. A. Worsaae; translation. (London, 1852.) A standard work. + +=Monumenta Orcadica: the Norsemen in the Orkneys and the Monuments +they have left, with a Survey of the Celtic Pre-Norwegian and +Scottish Post-Norwegian Monuments in the Islands.= By L. Dietrichson. +(Christiania, 1906.) The most recent and most scientific account of +the Norse remains in Orkney, written in Norwegian, but with a very +full summary—almost equivalent to a translation—in English. Of special +interest is the account of the newly-discovered monastery in Eynhallow. + +=The Viking Age.= By Paul du Chaillu. (2 vols., London, 1889.) An account +of the manners and customs, as well as the history, of the Viking period; +well illustrated, but not accurate or authoritative. + +=The Early Kings of Norway.= By Thomas Carlyle. (London, 1875.) A short +account of the period from 860 to 1397; of no great historical value. + + +Norse Mythology. + +*=Northern Mythology.= By Benjamin Thorpe. (3 vols., London, 1851.) The +best and most complete work on the subject. + +=Northern Antiquities.= By P. Mallet; translation. (London, 1770; edition +in Bohn’s Series.) + +=The Mythology of the Eddas.= By C. F. Keary. (London, 1882.) + +=Norse Mythology: the Religion of our Forefathers.= By R. B. Anderson. +(Chicago, 1875.) + +=Asgard and the Gods: a Manual of Norse Mythology.= By Dr. W. Wägner. +(London, 1880.) The best popular book on the subject. + +=The Tragedy of the Norse Gods.= By R. J. Pitt. + +=Heroes and Hero-Worship.= By Thomas Carlyle. (London, 1841.) + +=The Earthly Paradise.= By William Morris. (London, 1868-70.) + +=Sigurd the Volsung.= By William Morris. (London, 1877.) + +=Epic and Romance.= Essays on Mediæval Literature by W. P. Ker. (London, +1908.) An authoritative and very readable account of the old Icelandic +literary art. + + +Later History. + +*=History of the Orkney Islands.= By the Rev. George Barry. (Edinburgh, +1805; reprinted, with prefatory account of the Islands, Kirkwall, 1867.) +One of the standard works dealing with the history of the Islands. + +*=Odal Rights and Feudal Wrongs.= By David Balfour of Balfour. +(Edinburgh, 1860). + +*=Oppressions of the Sixteenth Century in the Islands of Orkney and +Zetland.= (Edinburgh, 1859; Abbotsford and Maitland Clubs publications.) + +The above two books give an account of Orkney under Scottish rule. + +*=Monteith’s Description of the Islands of Orkney and Zetland.= +(Edinburgh, 1711; reprinted 1845.) + +*=General View of the Agriculture of the Orkney Islands.= By John +Shirreff. (Edinburgh, 1814.) An exceedingly interesting account of the +state of the Islands in the early nineteenth century. + +=Description of the Isles of Orkney.= By the Rev. James Wallace (minister +of Kirkwall). Published by his son. (Edinburgh, 1693; reprinted, with +notes by John Small, M.A., Edinburgh, 1883.) + +=The Present State of the Orkney Islands Considered.= By James Fea +(Surgeon). (Edinburgh, 1775; reprinted, Edinburgh, 1884.) + +=Orkney and Shetland Old-Lore Series.= A miscellany issued quarterly +by the Viking Club, London; contains numerous articles of historical +interest. + + +Descriptive. + +*=The Orkneys and Shetland.= By John R. Tudor. (London, 1883.) The best +descriptive work on the county; at once popular and systematic. + +=Kirkwall in the Orkneys.= By B. H. Hossack. (Kirkwall, 1900.) An +extremely full and detailed descriptive and historical account of the +town of Kirkwall. + +*=History of the Orkney Islands=, by the Rev. George Barry (Kirkwall +edition, 1867), contains a well-written description of the Islands. + +*=Summers and Winters In the Orkneys.= By Daniel Gorrie. (Kirkwall, N.D.) +A valuable series of sketches of Orcadian scenery and the conditions of +life about the middle of last century. + +=Rambles In the Far North.= By R. M. Fergusson. (Paisley, 1884.) + +=Our Trip North.= By R. M. Fergusson. (London, 1892.) + +=Handbook to the Orkney Islands.= (W. Peace and Son, Kirkwall.) Full of +interest. + +=Orkney and Shetland.= By M. J. B. Baddeley, B.A. Thorough Guide Series. +(Thomas Nelson and Sons, London.) The best tourist guide to the Islands. + +=Orkney and Shetland Almanac and County Directory= (W. Peace and Son, +Kirkwall; issued annually) contains statistical and other material of +value. + +=The North Sea Pilot. Part I.= (London, 1894.) A Government publication +for the use of mariners. Of much value to Orcadians interested in boating +or in navigation. + +=Tour through the Islands of Orkney and Shetland.= By the Rev. George +Low, with introduction by Dr. Joseph Anderson. (Kirkwall, 1879.) An +interesting account of the appearance of the Islands at the end of the +eighteenth century. + + +Geology. + +There is no book dealing specifically with the geology of Orkney. +Recourse must be had either to books dealing with the science generally, +or to those dealing with the Islands in which their geology is included. + +=The Orkneys and Shetland= (Tudor) contains an account of the geology of +the islands, written by Drs. Peach and Horne, with a useful geological +map. + +The most recent and complete geological survey of Orkney is that by +Dr. J. S. Flett, an account of which is contained in two papers in the +=Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh=. + +Some of Hugh Miller’s works, such as =The Testimony of the Rocks=, =The +Old Red Sandstone=, =Rambles of a Geologist=, and =Footprints of the +Creator=, contain numerous references to the geology of Orkney. + +=Robert Dick=, by Dr. Samuel Smiles, is an interesting account of a +Thurso baker who devoted his life to the study of geology in Caithness, +where the rook formation is the same as that of Orkney. + +Among general works in geology suitable for beginners may be mentioned +Huxley’s =Physiography= and Sir Archibald Geikie’s =Outlines of Field +Geology=, his =Class-book of Geology=, and his =Scenery of Scotland=. + + +Botany. + +=The Orkneys and Shetland= (Tudor) contains a list of the rarer British +plants found in Orkney, compiled by W. I. Fortescue. + +Volume xviii. of the =Transactions of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh= +contains a complete list of Orkney plants by Prof. J. W. H. Traill. +Another list is in preparation by Mr. Magnus Spence. + +=The Marine Algæ of the Orkney Islands=, by G. W. Traill (Edinburgh, +1890), contains a list of the seaweeds of Orkney. + +The following are some general works on botany which may be of service +to the beginner:—=Open-air Studies in Botany=, by R. L. Praeger (London, +1897), a study of wild flowers in their homes, with illustrations; +=Flowering Plants, their Structure and Habitat=, by C. L. Laurie, +illustrated (London, 1903); =Nature Studies=, by G. F. Scott-Elliot +(London, 1903); =A Plant Book for Schools=, by O. V. Darbyshire, +illustrated (London, 1908); =Flowers of the Field=, by C. A. Johns +(London, 1894). + +=Common Objects of the Seashore=, by the Rev. J. G. Wood (London, 1866), +contains good descriptions and illustrations of the seaweeds. + +For identification of plants perhaps the best books are the =British +Flora=, by Bentham and Hooker (London, 1904), and =Illustrations to +Bentham and Hooker’s British Flora=, by Fitch and Smith (London, 1905). + +For mosses, the best book is Dixon and Jameson’s =Student’s Handbook of +British Mosses=. + + +Zoology. + +For a general introduction to natural history the best books are—=Life +and her Children= (London, 1880), and =Winners in Life’s Race= (London, +1882), by Miss A. B. Buckley (Mrs. Fisher), and Professor Arthur J. +Thomson’s fascinating =Study of Animal Life=, which gives a list of other +books on zoology. + +The animals of the seashore are dealt with in Rev. J. G. Wood’s =Common +Objects of the Seashore= and =Fresh and Salt Water Aquarium=; =Seaside +Studies=, by G. H. Lewes; =The Aquarium=, by P. H. Gosse; and =The +Aquarium, its Inhabitants, Structure, and Management=, by J. E. Taylor. + +Gosse’s =Manual of Marine Zoology for the British Isles= (2 vols., +London, 1856) still remains the best book for the identification of +marine animals. + +For the study of birds the best works are the following:—=The Birds of +Shetland=, by H. L. Saxby (Edinburgh, 1884); =The Birds of the West of +Scotland=, by Robert Gray; =Bird-Watching= and =The Bird-Watcher in the +Shetlands=, by Edmund Selous. + +Saunders’s =Manual of British Birds= (London, 1889) is the best single +book for the identification of birds, each species being illustrated. + +=The Vertebrate Fauna of the Orkney Islands=, by J. A. Harvie Brown and +T. E. Buckley (Edinburgh, 1891), is in greater part a list of the birds +of Orkney, with a short account of each. + +=Orcadian Papers: being Selections from the Proceedings of the Orkney +Natural History Society from 1887 to 1904.= Edited by M. M. Oharleson, +F.S.A. Scot. (Stromness, 1905.) The selections are not confined to +natural history, but include historical and other contributions. + + +Fiction, Poetry, etc. + +=The Pirate.= By Sir Walter Scott. + +=Poems, etc.= By David Vedder. Edited by the Rev. G. Gilfillan. +(Kirkwall, N.D.) + +=Poems, Tales, and Sketches.= By Lieutenant John Malcolm, with +introduction by the Rev. G. Gilfillan. (Kirkwall, N.D.) + +*=The Orcadian Sketch-Book.= By Walter Traill Dennison. (Kirkwall, 1880.) +A unique collection of stories and poems written in the “North Isles” +dialect of the Orkney vernacular. + +=Orcadian Sketches.= By W. T. Dennison. With introduction by J. Storer +Clouston. (Kirkwall, 1904.) A selection from the preceding. + +=The Pilots of Pomona.= By Robert Leighton. (London, 1892.) + +=Sons of the Vikings.= By Dr. J. Gunn, M.A. (Edinburgh, 1893. Cheaper +edition, 1909.) + +=The Boys of Hamnavoe.= By Dr. J. Gunn, M.A. (Edinburgh, 1894.) + +=Vandrad the Viking.= By J. Storer Clouston. (Edinburgh, 1897.) + +=Garmiscath.= By J. Storer Clouston. (Cheaper edition, London, 1904.) + + * * * * * + +In addition to the material available in book form, much excellent +literature in prose and in verse, with more or less direct relation to +Orkney, has appeared in various magazines above the names of Duncan +J. Robertson, J. Storer Clouston, and others, specimens of which are +included in the pages of this volume. + + THE END. + + PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76756 *** |