Chapter 29

It was on a gray, wintry Saturday morning that we set sail on my first Orcadian voyage. I had, you may be sure, been up at an early hour, helping to load the little vessel with its miscellaneous cargo, to be carried to the many indolent island ports at which our skipper proposed calling. We were ready by about eight o'clock, when I was sent ashore along with Jerry to get two or three letters from the postmaster that had been waiting two weeks for the Falcon, to be taken to some of the outlying islands; for the schooner, in addition to her regular work, also carried the Queen's mails. Then, aboard again, we weighed anchor, the harbour was cleared, and we dropped below the Lookout Hill into the Sound.

It was a bitter cold morning, but my excitement on being outward bound on my first trip was enough to keep me warm, and I paced the deck proudly as we passed slowly into the broken water. Over the brown slopes of Graemsay the late-rising sun struggled sleepily to penetrate a dreamy haze; but soon his warmth had strength to melt the white hoar frost from our rigging, and with a brisk breeze and an outflowing tide we slipped through the Sound, dipping and rising as we met the swelling waves of the outer sea. Then the great headland of Hoy loomed into sight, its yellow and red cliffs gleaming across the water as if sunshine always bathed them.

From the deck, as we sailed blithely along, I watched the billows rolling landward and dashing upon the hard rocks, resounding with thunderous noise among the hollow chasms. I was unwilling to go below before we had passed beyond the sight of Stromness, but when we were abreast of the Black Craigs I thought I would go down and have a drop of hot coffee. I had no sooner got into the cabin, however, when, what with the pitching of the schooner and the smell of the cheese and bacon and other things, I began to feel a sickening, so I went on deck again and busied myself as best I could, though the skipper had told me he would not expect me to do any work until I got my sea legs.

I soon fell into my simple duties, which were the more easy to me since my acquaintance with ships and sailors in Stromness had given me some slight knowledge of the routine work of a small craft. Whenever the schooner was brought round on a new tack I was ready to lend a hand with the ropes. I helped to keep trim the deck, and even had the proud task of taking my trick at the tiller. When I was well enough to venture below I had the duty of preparing the meals, with the help of Jerry, who was man-of-all-work. But this was not until we had been out some days.

On the first day I did little but hang about on deck, or sit on the weather gunwale with Captain Flett. The old man was very kind to me, and even put his pipe away lest the smell of the smoke should make me feel sick.

One time, when we were so sitting together, I noticed an eagle rise from a ravine in St. John's Head, and we watched the bird sailing backward and forward on steady outstretched wing and finally disappear amid the shadows of the Red Glen. This suggested a long talk about the eagles that inhabited the solitudes of Hoy Island, and the skipper told many a thrilling story of his own adventures in search of eagles' nests in the time when rich rewards were offered for every eagle killed.

At midday the Falcon was abreast of the Old Man of Hoy--a curious isolated pinnacle of rock some five hundred feet in height standing out in the sea--and before the time of sunset we rounded Rora Head and entered a beautiful sheltered bay with a fine stretch of sloping beach, beyond which, on the brown moor, about a dozen tiny houses could be seen snugly nestling together beside a flowing stream that had its source away up amongst the hills.

This was Rackwick, one of the chief hamlets of Hoy; and when the schooner was brought well inshore the anchor was dropped. The captain then ordered Jerry to blow the horn to announce our arrival to the inhabitants far and near. Jerry thereupon took the fog horn and blew it till the noise resounded and echoed for miles around. Then we all went below to a meal of good Orkney herrings and hot tea.

The meal was just finished, and the men were lighting their pipes, when a boat from the shore was brought alongside--a heavy, clumsy boat with great square oars pulled by two burly crofters.

When I went on deck with the skipper I found that our arrival at Rackwick had been expected for some time.

"Man, Davie," interrogated one of the crofters in a broad Orkney dialect, "where has thoo been wandering sae lang? They was expecting thee mair than a twa week syne. Was thoo thinking o' starving us all?"

"Starving you, Tam," returned Flett. "Nay, nay, lad, we'll see ye dinna starve. Come aboard, lad, and let's know what you're needing. We have everything you can want, from a needle to an anchor. So just name it and you'll get it."

"We're needing none o' your anchors," said the crofter in a matter-of-fact tone as he climbed up the schooner's side, "but I just mind now, Mary Seater lost her last needle a week syne, and we have but twa needles in all Rackwick, so thoo'd better gie us a penny's worth."

Captain Flett told me to get the slate and pencil from below, and as the crofter gave his orders for the articles required I wrote these down under the initial item, "Needles, 1d."

When all the necessaries were brought together, they formed a goodly pile of merchandise in the boat. Here were bags of potatoes and of meal, a few loaves of bread, some tin cans and crockery, pieces of cloth, and coils of rope and small parcels of groceries. I went ashore in the boat to help the two men to unload her, and when this was done there was the work of bringing back to the Falcon what things were to be exported or given in exchange for goods received.

When the last load was brought on board some ingenuity was required to strike a just balance in the accounts, for in this primitive community actual money, though well appreciated, was of less consequence than money's worth, and the system of barter which Captain Flett necessarily adopted was very difficult of adjustment. However, my schooling was of some service to him in striking a balance, and at nightfall the business was agreeably settled.

The next day was the Sabbath, and in the morning Captain Flett appeared on deck dressed in his finest clothes of blue cloth, and wearing a very respectable soft felt hat over his neatly-brushed hair. The mate, Jerry, and I were also apparelled in our Sunday best. After breakfast we went ashore in the dinghy, and the four of us made our way in a body up to the Manse.

The room in which service was held was barely large enough to admit so great an addition to its weekly congregation, but we were permitted to take front seats near the chair occupied by the minister, who thus was able not only to exchange occasional civilities with the captain, but also to help himself to a frequent pinch from the old man's snuffbox.

I remember I thought the service extremely wearisome, and I soon grew tired of listening to the doctrinal discourse that was given for our benefit. I found diversion in looking through a little window behind the minister, and in observing the curious contortions which were given to a cow browsing on the heath outside whenever the animal passed a certain round knot in the glass.

Captain Flett remained ashore with the minister for the rest of the day; and in the afternoon, when Peter was asleep in his bunk, Jerry and I left the schooner and went for a walk across the hills. The weather was not very inviting, for the wind blew in cold, cutting gusts from the northwest, and there was little of interest to be seen on the bleak, treeless waste. The coastline of Scotland was hidden in mist, and even the crown of the Ward hi?^ll was covered by the low-lying clouds. There would be little, indeed, to tell of this walk were it not for an adventure that we encountered.

We had got round into the Red Glen, and were resting on a great gray boulder. Everything was so quiet in the shelter of the hills that even the birds seemed to recognize that it was Sunday. Not a living thing was to be seen or a sound to be heard, except the soughing of the wind and the trickling of a burn down the hillside. Presently a loud screech rent the air, and a large eagle swooped swiftly above us, carrying in its talons a rabbit or other small animal. Flying in gradually narrowing circles, the bird at last alighted among some rocks on the opposite side of the valley.

We ran as speedily as we could to where the eagle had dropped. To our disappointment, however, the bird took wing and hovered high in the air, but without its victim.

Continuing our way in search of the rabbit we saw a very curious sight. In the midst of a number of loose stones someone had set a trap, but had evidently neglected it. This neglect would have been hard on any animals that might have been taken, as their probable fate would be death by starvation. But what was probable did not happen in this case. When we reached the trap we found in it a fine golden eagle, alive and in splendid condition. Around him lay the remains--the well-picked bones--of some twenty rabbits and as many grouse which his mate had brought, and so saved him from a lingering death.

The captive eagle, with its great beak dripping with the rabbit's blood, flashed its bright round eyes and ruffled its feathers as Jerry picked up a large stone and prepared to dash it at the bird's head. Quick as might be, I arrested his uplifted arm.

"O, Jerry!" I pleaded; "dinna kill him, man. We have not so many eagles as that. Give the bird his liberty."

Jerry dropped the stone, and looked at me with a kindly smile.

"Well, Ericson," he said, "you're maybe right. A dead eagle isna much good after all. We'll let the bird fly."

Whilst Jerry attracted the attention of the eagle forward I went behind, and, taking my knife from my pocket, I was proceeding to open the jaws of the trap, when Jerry exclaimed, "Look out! look out aft!" and before I understood his warning, I was thrown bodily forward by a tremendous blow on my back.

The first eagle had watched our proceedings while on the wing, and had flown to her mate's assistance, alighting on my back, at the same time burying her talons in my woollen muffler. In my fall, however, I liberated the captive eagle, which hopped about lamely for a while, and then giving a kind of guttural chuckle, flapped his wide wings, and rose gracefully into the air.

Jerry rushed forward to rescue me from the pecking beak of my assailant. Fortunately the female bird, in her eagerness to follow her mate, did not show fight when Jerry belaboured her with his stick, but disentangled her claws from my muffler; at the same time, giving me some severe scratches. Then she took to flight in pursuit of her companion, and soon the pair of birds were seen sailing side by side far up among the leaden clouds.

I was not seriously injured, and, so far from regretting that we had not been victorious in the encounter, we were pleased at being the means of restoring the captive bird to its noble mate.