The Cruise of the Snowbird: A Story of Arctic Adventure
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speaksfor itself: Dog biscuits, ten sacks."
Yes, reader, for independent of the crew all told there were on boardtwo passengers of the race canine--namely, honest Oscar, the SaintBernard, and Spunkie, the wildest and weirdest-looking Skye terrier thatever barked in the kennels at Arrandoon. These two dogs lived in theforecastle, and very useful they ultimately proved, as the sequel willshow.
Two days more and our heroes had gathered on the quarter-deck, to havethe last look they would have for a long time on their native land.
Most of them gazed in silence at the rugged and wild scene to windward.Their hearts were rather full to speak; but Rory, leaning on thetaffrail--he were nothing unless he were romantic, so he must needs say,or sigh, or sing, I do not know which it was,--
"`Farewell to the land of the rock and the wild wood, The hill and the forest, and proud swelling wave, To the land where bliss smiled on the days of our childhood,-- Farewell to dear Scotland, the land of the brave.'"
Then the breeze freshened, and the sails flapped as she leaned steadilyover to it.
"Keep her away," cried McBain, waving his hand to the helmsman.
And when they came on deck again, after dinner that evening, great seaswere rolling in from the Pentland Firth, from which came the gloriouswind. Nor was there any land visible in the west, where the sun wasdipping down into the waves like a great vermilion shield, his beamsmaking a bright red pathway betwixt them and the horizon. Long greyclouds were floating in the sky above, clouds of a dark and bluish grey,and yet every cloud was bound with a fringe of silver and gold.
Ere darkling some sails were taken in, and a couple of reefs in themainsail, but shortened even thus the good yacht seemed to fly over thewaves, bounding along like a thing of life, as if she positively lovedthe sea and felt made for it, but in all her glee she behaved herselfwell, and hardly shipped a drop of water.
Next morning there was a terrible noise and row on deck, and a direrattling of chains, and a shouting of words of command, and when Roryran up to see what was the matter he found that the anchor had just beenlet go, and that they were lying in Bressay Sound, right abreast of thestrangely picturesque little town of Lerwick.
"As soon," said Captain McBain, "as we've had breakfast we'll go onshore. You can make the best of your time, and enjoy yourselves all youcan. There is lots to see, and ponies to ride that I reckon will taxall your equestrian powers, but mind you're off by three o'clock. Thereis nothing to keep us here, and we'll weigh again this afternoon."
"But aren't you going to be with us?" asked Rory.
"Nay, boy, nay," replied McBain. "I go to pick up another passenger;and one, too, whose presence on board is bound to affect for evil or forgood our voyage to the far north."
"Dear me!" said Rory, "a bit of mystery, is it? Well, that makes it allthe more romantic; but get ready, boys, get ready. I, for one, mean tomake a regular forenoon of it. I want to see the pony I can't ride,that's all."
CHAPTER TEN.
ONSHORE IN SHETLAND--A FAMILY OF GUIDES--A WILD RIDE AND A PRIMITIVELUNCH--WESTWARD HO!--RACING A WHALE.
"What shall we do and where shall we go?" These were the questionswhich naturally presented themselves for solution to our three heroes,on first stepping out of their boat on Lerwick beach.
"We'll take a turn up the town," suggested Allan, "and see the place."
"And then go and have lunch somewhere," said Ralph.
"To be sure," said Rory. "An Englishman will never be long withoutthinking about eating. But let us take pot-luck for the lunch. We'lljust get a quarter of a dozen of Shetland ponies, that'll be one toevery one of the three of us, and ride away over the island. We'll fallon our feet, never fear."
"More likely," said Allan, with a laugh, "to fall on our heads and breakour necks; but never mind, I'm ready."
There were many listeners to this conversation. The town "loafers" ofLerwick are not a whit more polite than town "loafers" anywhere else,and seeing three smartly-dressed young yachtsmen, evidently the ownersof the beautiful vessel that lay at anchor in the harbour, they gatheredaround them, crowded them in fact, and were profuse in their offers oftheir services as guides to either town or country. But for the presentour friends declined their assistance, and set off on a brisk walk awayup the curious straggling narrow street. Here were few shops worth asecond look; the houses stand end on to the pavements, not in a straightrow, but simply anyhow, and seem to shoulder the passengers into themiddle of the road in the most unceremonious fashion. The street itselfwas muddy and fishy, and they were not a bit sorry when they foundthemselves out in the open country, quite at the other end of it. Bythis time they had shaken themselves clear of the crowd, or almost, forthey still had four satellites. One of these was quite a giant of afellow, with a pipe in his mouth and a tree in his right hand by way ofa walking-stick, and looking altogether so rough and unkempt that hemight have been taken for the presiding genius of this wild island. Instriking contrast with this fellow there stood near him a pretty andinteresting-looking young girl, with a little peat-creel on her back,and knitting materials in her hand, which betokened industry. She hadyellow hair floating, over her shoulders, and eyes as blue as summerseas.
"My daughter, gentlemen," said the giant, "and here is my son."
Our heroes could not refrain from laughing when they looked at thelatter. Such a mite he was, such a Hop-o'-my-thumb, such a mop of ahead, the hair of which defied confinement by the old Tam o' Shanterstuck on the top of it! This young urchin was rich in rags but wreathedin smiles.
This interesting family were engaged forthwith as guides.
They would all three go, not one would be left behind: the father andson would run, the daughter would ride, and the price of their serviceswould be half-a-crown each, including the use of the ponies.
Oh! these ponies, I do so wish I could describe them to you. They wereso small, to begin with, that Ralph and Allan looked quite ridiculous ontheir backs, for their feet almost touched the ground. Rory lookedbetter on his charger. The ponies' tails swept the heather, their coatswere like the coats of Skye terriers, and their morsels of heads wereburied in hair, all save the nose. Cobby as to body were thesediminutive horses, and cunning as to eye--that is, whenever an eye couldbe seen it displayed cunning and mischief.
Rory mounted and rode like a Centaur, the young lady guide sat like aShetland-queen. But woe is me for Ralph and Allan,--they were hardly onwhen they were off again. It must be said for them, however, that theystuck to their bridles if they couldn't stick to the saddles, and againand again they mounted their fiery steeds with the same ignominiousresults. Two legs seemed enough for those ponies to walk upon, and itdid not matter for the time being whether they were, hind legs or forelegs. They could stand, on their heads too, turn somersaults, and rollover on their backs, and do all sorts of pretty tricks.
"It's only their fun," cried Rory, "they'll shake down presently."
"Shake down!" said Ralph, rubbing his leg with a wry face. "_I'm_pretty well shaken down. Why, I don't believe there is a whole bone inmy body.--Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"
But when the ponies had gone through their performances to their ownentire satisfaction, and done quite enough to maintain their name andfame as wild Shetland ponies, they suffered their riders to keep theirseats, but tossed their manes in the air, as if to clear their eyesightfor the run they were now determined to have.
Then off started the cavalcade, rushing like a hairy hurricane along themountain road. Swiftly as they went, however, lo! and behold, at everyturn of the road the giant and his little boy were visible, the formervaulting along on his pole, the latter running with the speed of a wilddeer.
It was early summer in Shetland; the top of lonely Mount Bressay wasstill shrouded in snow, but all the moorlands were green with grass andheather, and gay with wild hyacinth and crimson-belled bilberry bushes;the light breeze that blew over the islands and across the blue sea wasbalmy and yet bracing--it was a breeze tha
t raised the spirits; yes, andit did something else, it appealed to the inner man, as Ralph expressed,and so, when after a ride of over a dozen miles a well-known roadsidehostelry hove in sight, our heroes positively hailed it with a cheer.What mattered it that the little parlour into which they were shown wasdestitute of a carpet and possessed of chairs of deal? It was clean andquiet, the tablecloth was spotless as the snows of Ben Rona, the cakeswere crisp, the bread was white, the butter was redolent of the fragrantherbage that the cows had browsed, and the rich milk was purer andbetter far than any wine that could have been placed before them; andwhen hot and steaming smoked haddocks were added to the fare, why theywould not have changed places with a king in his banqueting-hall.
All confessed they