Volume 3 - Electric Scotland

sin ANT ISLES. 323
THE SHIANT ISLES. FOOD OF THE HIGHLANDS.
In the first voyage which I made on this north-west
coast, I hatl laboured hard for a whole day to reach
these islands : but the wind was foul, night came on, and
my head was so full of the Shiant fairies that I could not
sleep. When I dozed, it was to dream of yellow sands ;
and as the sea gull flew screaming past, I thought I
heard " the voice of Chanticleer." At three in the morn-
ing, I was roused by the cry, " put down the helm, haul
the foresheet to windward, let fly the jib sheet, lower
away the boat." It blew fresh and was scarcely light
the water and the sky were all one cloudy, grey, cold,
and dreary chaos ; the morning wind whistled bleak in
the rigging, and the white seas were foaming past. The
expedition did not look tempting ; but I had given the
orders to look out, and I now saw the dark mass of the
Shiant rocks gleaming through the dim haze, and marked
below by a long line of breakers. We landed with diffi-
culty, and had just time to open our eyes, when it be-
came a matter of prudence to haul off' again. So at least
the seamen thought ; but I am not quite sure that some
expectation of water spirits or goblins, wandering under
the high cliflTs that rose dark above us in the twilight
grey of the morning, had not as much influence over
their resolutions as the black clouds which were now
gathering fast to windward, and the roar of the sea that
was foaming all along this wild shore. But four years
had past away. The waves that were then breaking-
white against its cliffs, were rippling on the pebbled
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