The pilot's house, or rather we will say the room in which we lived, had two windows opposite to one another, east and west-would I could draw! One window, on the sheltered side, looked to the mainland and the high hills beyond the large Fjord, or sea loch, between us and them. It was as black as ink, and the squalls that turned this Fjord, like Loch Seaforth of old, into a mass of foam, alone told you that it was sea. The other window looked seawards, and to windward, but it was much brighter and clearer that way, and at times we had occasional glimpses of the point from which we had been blown last night. But what a sea was running! What a gale was blowing! What hail, thunder, and lightnings! We could fancy what a plague of hail could be. When I saw the sea breaking over the reefs we passed through, and the position of the promontory on which we now were, I could not, and never shall, understand how we avoided being smashed to pieces.

And what a scene this promontory presented that wild morning! Other living things had sought its refuge as well as ourselves. The gulls were screaming all over it. Wild geese were trying to stay their flight and hold on. The plover's note was more plaintive. The

snipes shriek as if in bodily pain. The hooded crows were buffeting with the storm, and my friend told me he saw some of them trying to make their way to the shelter under the ridge of the hill, fighting the air not only with their wings, but using their legs against the hill side as further propellers, as if climbing as well as flying. It would have been worse than sacrilege to have attempted anything against these poor refugees. Worse than violating sanctuary. Moreover not to give ourselves too much credit for too much high-flown feeling—I don't think we could have stood to shoot, and if we had tried to shoot anything we deserved to be shot ourselves.

Three days did we remain on our promontory, which we christened Mount Storm. At last it could blow no longer, and this frightful storm blew itself, comparatively speaking, out. I learnt much from that storm, which I shall not easily forget. Among other things, how kind, good, and hospitable the Norwegians can be when not spoilt by their intercourse with the genus tourist. How chivalrously courteous they were-that pilot and his wife! No magnate of the land and his dame could have done the honours of their castle better than this humble pair did those of their cabin

on this wild rock. They were a merry, warmhearted pair, much attached to each other, and perfectly satisfied with the precarious life they led on the rock; a little piloting, a little fishing; a few sheep and cows, and a pony, of course, forming their stock. Where they found a market for their produce, and how they got it there, is a mystery to me. I wished them good-bye with great regret, having bought a tremendously thick pair of worsted stockings of the wife, who almost wrung my hand off when I gave her a dollar for them. They seemed to part with us, too, with regret, and the pilot's eyes moistened when my friend insisted on his receiving some remuneration for all his trouble. And he made us promise to come and see him again if ever we returned that way, which, if spared, I trust we may. So we prepared to leave Mount Storm-where we had been delayed three days and nights by that frightful storm, which commenced on Sunday at twelve o'clock, noon, and lasted till Wednesday morning-wiser and better men, I hope and believe.

A lull had taken place. Our skipper was for getting home that night, after depositing us at our destination. His clear blue eye was bright and cheery, and he that had faced the

storm so boldly and so well, was as lighthearted on shore as a child, and was a great friend of the family's. The old and the young, the dog and the cat, and the pony, of course, were all much attached to him. The clear blue eye and open brow for woman, against the world. can depend on the blue eye when wanted; at least I never saw it fail, in danger, though I have the dark, swarthy, glaring eye.

me, in man or You know you

The little Kelpie lighted her fires and got up her steam, and blew her tiny whistle again merrily, and though there was plenty of sea and wind still, she seemed to call us cheerily, as if confidently proud of her powers. She stooped and bowed gracefully to the kind Mount Storm, as in gratitude for its shelter; and dashing boldly at the point again, through the open sea, soon landed us in safety at our destination.

Good-bye, you daring skipper, with your gallant little crew, and

"Weel may that boatie row,

The merlin and the creel."

88

CHAPTER X.

ULTIMA THULE.

E were landed at last, and had arrived at

WE

the end of our shooting, where we were to see what we should see. It was reported good for Ryper, Ducks, Geese, Snipe, and such-like birds. Though we had done with the fearful storm, yet there was plenty of wild weather about. As soon as we had got our traps, stores, &c., housed, which took time, we looked about 118. Whizz over our house came a cloud of Ryper from some shore. Clank, clank, and high in the air, over us soared a line of geese, going anywhere. There were screaming snipes, but in no large quantities, going in and out about the shore. The crows did not know what on earth to be at, only nowhere far in any diection would they go. They mistrusted the weather as much as I did. There were the stumps of rainbows, or Fahns, in the horizon, and all things seemed to say, "Rest, and be thankful." Now that is just what no English