CHAPTER III.

THE FIRST EXCURSION

The laird’s orders being too positive to be disobeyed, Ella and her

brothers were permitted to enter their new dwelling by the time the

herrings began to appear from the deep seas to the north. As Ella was

anxious to be preparing her resources against the rent day, she watched

the first signs of the approach of the fish, determining to try the

experiment of selling them fresh to the people at the other end of her

island, who, having no boats, could not fish for themselves. Ronald was

going out to his usual labour in the field one July morning, when he

observed Ella looking first up to the sky and then abroad over the

glittering Sound in which the islands lay, like vessels becalmed, and

beyond which arose the blue peaks of Argyleshire.

“The sun is bright over Lorn, Ella; were ye thinking of a trip to-day?”

“Indeed I was,—not with the nets,—time enough for that; but we might try

with the hook and see if the shoals are near; but if the sun will not

keep out, we shall only lose our day.”

“What is Archie going to do?”

“Archie, my man,” said his sister, “will ye bring me some eggs this day?

See, the fowl are waiting for ye.”

“We’ll wait a bit,” said Ella to her brother: “if he does not come back

in half an hour, we may trust to the sun not to cheat us.” So Ronald

looked out the rods and hooks, while his sister bustled about the

cottage before she girded herself for the oar. While thus employed, she

sang in the raised voice with which maidens sing in these islands. Ere

long, she turned round and saw Archie sitting at the door-sill fastening

a piece of string to a switch, in imitation of the rods Ronald was

preparing.

“Well, Archie; have you quarrelled with the birds to-day, that ye are

home so soon? And where are my eggs?”

“The fowl must wait,” muttered Archie. “I can’t play to-day.”

“Are ye ill, my lad?” enquired his sister, tenderly passing her hand

over his forehead: but Archie withdrew himself and began switching

himself with his new rod.

“Ye may go to the field, Ronald; I’m not for the sea to-day,” said Ella.

And in less than an hour the sky was overcast, and summer storms swept

over the Sound at intervals till night.

“We may always trust Archie,” observed Ronald. “He has a keener sight

into the place of storms than we.”

The next day the birds did not wait in vain for Archie. He was stirring

as soon as they, having stolen out from his sister’s side at dawn, and

crossed the bar of sand while the tide was yet low. When the sun peeped

above the mountains of Lorn, as fair as on the preceding day, the little

lad shouted and clapped his hands above his head; whereupon myriads of

sea-birds rose fluttering round him, and wheeled, and dipped, and

hovered with cries that would have dismayed a stranger, but which Archie

always gloried in provoking. While they drove round his head like autumn

leaves in a storm, the terns and gulls screaming, the auks piping, and

the cormorants croaking, the boy answered them with shouts and waved his

bonnet over his head. Then he clambered to the highest point he could

reach that he might watch the long files of solan geese, as they took

their morning flight southwards, and be sure that they were out of sight

before he filled his bonnet with their eggs.

His sister and Ronald observed him when they had pushed off from the

beach, and were winning their way, each with a steady oar, to the deep

waters beyond the bay.

“Fare ye well, Archie,” shouted Ronald in a voice which made the rocks

ring again; but Archie took no notice.

“He is too busy to mind. See how he peeps over yon ledge that neither

you nor I dare climb. I wager he finds a prize there: he’s dancing with

pleasure. He has taken them all, and down he creeps,—aye, take care, my

lad: that’s it; now on his knees, and there finding a step with his

foot. Ye see he never slips. Now he’s down, I’ll try to win a look.”

Ella sang with all the power of her lungs, and this time Archie turned,

clapped his hands and stood still to watch the boat.

“He will not be home sooner than we,” said Ronald. “He is happy to-day,

and he will wait for the afternoon ebb.”

“I have put some more bannocks in his hole,” said Ella, “and some fresh

water, so he will want for nothing till night.”

“And the storm cast up so much weed yesterday,” said Ronald, “that he

may float all the day, if he likes.”

This floating was Archie’s favourite amusement, in the interval between

the departure of the gannets in the morning and their return from the

south at eve. There was a strong current round the Storr, from an eddy

below the hole he called his cave quite round the point to a ledge of

rocks on the other side of the promontory; which ledge being a

favourable spot for embarkation, was called the quay. Archie’s delight

was to drop feathers, straws, weed, or eggshells, into the eddy, to

watch them come up again after they had disappeared, and float round the

point, and to find them again collected at the quay. Nobody could please

him so well as by giving him a new substance to float; and he brought

home many a gannet for the sake of the feathers, more than for the kind

smile and stroke of the head with which Ella rewarded such enterprises.

She was proud of Archie’s feats in bird-catching; and if ever she spoke

to a stranger on her domestic affairs, represented Archie as adding to

the resources of the household, in no small degree. He seldom exerted

himself to hunt the puffins out of their burrows in the rock, and had

not sense or patience to manage snares; but such birds as were stupid

enough to go on laying their eggs where they were taken away as soon as

they appeared, and such as were tame enough to sit still and be taken by

the hand, were Archie’s prey. He twisted their necks as he had seen his

brothers do, and pouched them in his plaid, and still conceived himself

to be on terms of close friendship with the species, fancying that their

morning screams were cries of invitation to him, and returning the

compliment at eve, by singing southwards from the highest point he could

reach, if he thought them late in coming home.

Ella was not mistaken in thinking the herrings were come. There were so

many stragglers ready to be caught with newly-tinned hooks, that it was

evident a shoal was at hand, and that her nets might be brought into use

within a few days.

“See there!” said Ella, when late in the afternoon she and her brother

suspended their labour to eat and rest; “it brightens one’s eyes to see

such a spoil for one day.”

“And such fine fish too,” replied Ronald. “My heart misgave me this

morning lest we should find them like what they were last year. It would

be a good thing for such as we if we could judge of herring like cod,

and know when we should find them well-fed and most fit to be eaten.

Last year they were as lean as a moor, and now they are as plump as a

barley-field.”

“Thanks be to Him that guides them in the deep waters,” said Ella;

“there will be joy under many a roof this season.”

Ronald reverently uncovered his head. “I wonder,” said he, “that we see

no more boats. Yon sloop is from Greenock, I wager; come to take up

herrings and kelp. She may keep her anchor down long; for not a hook has

been thrown in the Sound till ours, that I could see, and yonder is the

first kelp fire within sight this season.”

“Ye’ll have one of your own, next season, Ronald, and, I doubt not, it

will show light betimes. So willing as ye are to help in the field and

on the water, we owe ye our toil when the storms come. The field once

laid out, and the profits of the fish safe pouched, and Fergus’s peat

stored, he and I will be your servants in our turn, Ronald, and cut and

cull weed as fast as ye can draw it in. The rope is begun already.”

“Is it? How thoughtful ye are, Ella! When could ye find time to think of

my rope?”

“O, there’s ever time for what ought to be provided. I have thinned the

pony’s tail now and then for a long time, so that I have near hair

enough; and when Archie was heavy one day, I thought I could work for

you and sing to him at one time; and in the storm yesterday I twisted

more. We shall have a long stout rope before the first large drift of

weed, and if ye crop the ledges as plentifully as they promise, we shall

have a grand fire, one of the first of the season. How proud it will

make me, Ronald, to help to row over your first venture of kelp!”

“Not so proud as it will make me to put the money into the pouch, Ella.

To think that I help to pay the laird!”

“I wish it might be into his own hands,” said Ella. “I should like to

make you the bearer of it then.”

“And if not,” said Ronald, “it will be honour enough to discharge

ourselves of Mr. Callum. Ye have taught me my lesson there, Ella; and

when the time comes, I’ll show ye a picture of yourself as like as a lad

can be to a tall woman. I’ll go out beside the door when I hear the pace

of his pony on the shingle, and fold my arms in my plaid, and make a

reverence about half as low as to the laird, only stiffer. And I’ll show

the lap of the pouch and say, Here are the laird’s dues. Would it please

you to count them now or when we have pledged your head and ours?’”

“Ye’re a saucy lad,” said Ella: “you know he can’t bear to hear that any

one is head over him.”

“That is the very reason everybody puts him in mind of it,” replied

Ronald. “Well; all this time Fergus is holding his pony, and you are

spreading the best cloth, and he is looking doubtful whether he shall

come in, not liking the coldness of people so far below him, but

smelling the hot goose very savoury.—So he comes in to count the dues at

any rate, after which—”

“Now, Ronald, hold your tongue, or we shall have no dues to count. I’ve

done my meal, and see where we have drifted, and the sun going down

too.”

Ella plied both oars, while Ronald hastily devoured the rest of his

bannock. When they got within easy reach of home, they once more drew in

their oars and cast their hooks; but as it was with less success than

before, Ronald again gave a loose to his tongue, in a way which his awe

of his sister would not have allowed if Fergus had not been absent, and

if his being Ella’s sole partner in an excursion of business had not

established an unusual familiarity between them. After providing that

Fergus should have his turn as rent-payer, he went on—

“I should like to make Archie do it for once. Do you think we could

teach him his lesson?”

“I will not have him tried,” said Ella decidedly. “Archie is not made to

hold a money-pouch, nor to have any worldly dealings.”

“Yet he brings in what helps to fill it.”

“And how innocently! It is his love for the things that God made that

makes him follow sport. The birds are his playmates while they wheel

round his head, and when he takes them on the nest, he has no thought of

gain,—and evil be to him that first puts the thought into him! He

strokes their soft feathers against his cheek, and watches the white

specks wandering through the water like snow-flakes through the air. He

does not look beyond the pleasure to his eyes and to his heart, and he

never shall; and gold and silver are not the things to give pleasure to

such an eye and such a heart, and he shall never know them.”

“Then he can never know how much he owes you, Ella, for the care you

take of him. He little guesses how you have spun half the night to make

his plaid, and won money hardly to find him a bonnet, and all the toil

of your fishing, and grinding, and baking.”

“And why should he? He loves me, and all the better for not knowing why.

He wears his plaid as the birds do their feathers; he feels it warm, and

never thinks where it came from. He finds his barley-cakes and fresh

water in his cave as lambs find clover and springs in their pasture. I

see him satisfied, and like that he should love me for what costs me no

toil,—for singing when he is heavy, and for wearing what he brings me

when he is merry. When he lays his hot head in my lap, or pulls my skirt

to make me listen to the wind, I value his love all the more for its not

being bought.”

“I see you always lure him out when Mr. Callum is coming,” observed

Ronald.

“Yes; and for the same reason I let him hide himself among the rocks the

day the laird was here—I have a constant fear that Mr. Callum would be

for sending him away; and so I hinder our having any words about the

lad. I am easier about that since the laird himself took notice of him

so kindly: but Mr. Callum shall never lay a finger on his head, even to

bless him, if I can help it. Better keep him innocent of the man

entirely.”

“He is likely to be innocent of all but ourselves, and now and then the

Murdochs; for he sees nobody else.”

“He has more companions than we have, too. He makes friendship where we

only make war among living things. How he would handle these very fish

that we stow away so carelessly! But come; we have caught the last we

shall get to-day: let us make haste home and to rest. I must be stirring

early and away to make the first winnings for the pouch, and Fergus

shall have his turn with me to-morrow.”

Ella was determined to try for once whether she could not make her way

by land to the north of the island. There was no road, and the

difficulty of some of the passes was so great as to render the journey

as fatiguing as one of twenty miles. In a strait line, it would not have

been so much as two miles; but the many and steep ascents trebled the

actual distance, while some were nearly if not quite impassable. If she

could once, with her pony, traverse the island, she might be able to

judge whether it would afford any market for her fresh fish; and at the

same time learn whether there were fertile spots to which her brothers

might drive their cattle, and whether it would answer to load their pony

with weed for manure or kelp from different parts of the shore.

It proved a toilsome experiment. She sold some of her fish at her own

price; but there were so few families, and they could so seldom afford

to buy food, that it seemed hardly likely to answer to give up a whole

day of her own labour and the pony’s for so poor a return, in addition

to the previous day’s labour in fishing. They found some patches of good

grass among the dells, but too difficult of access to be of much use;

and their examination of the shore convinced them that Ronald had

possession of the best portion within the circuit of the island.—All

this settled, the next object was to prepare for a trip to the Greenock

sloop.

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Illustrations of political economy, Volume 2 (of 9) · 第 3 / 13 章