The Loclian of the White-fronted Geese 



dropping of the wind, the country was quickly in the grip of 

 the frost. But even though no clouds covered the south- 

 eastern sky, it was after nine o'clock this late December 

 morning that the sun rose from behind the snowy top of 

 Ben Airidh Char, and shone clear on the heather of the 

 moorland plateau. Away to the north there lay a mass of 

 billowy clouds, as though heralding squalls of snow from 

 off the cold waters of the Minch. In the sunrise the pale 

 grey of these great clouds became transformed to a faint 

 rosy hue, changing to a deep red colour as the rising sun 

 increased in strength. I have many times, in fine weather, 

 seen this wall of clouds, and they seem to be over Stornoway 

 and the hills behind it — that would be a full forty miles from 

 the "Lochan of the Geese." 



No wind disturbed the surface of Loch Ewe this day. 

 On its quiet waters lay a fleet of many herring boats. The 

 previous day at sunset they had set their nets, and were now 

 lifting them, for no herring is foolish enough to be caught 

 in the light of full day. Fishing craft of every description 

 lay there. One saw steam drifters from the East Coast, and 

 with them motor boats, large and sturdy enough, though 

 possessed of little speed. Then there w^ere the small sailing 

 craft belonging to the Highland crofters, and even rowing 

 boats were pressed into the service, for the fishing was good 

 that year, and much money was coming the way of the croft- 

 ing community through the fishing. Lying at anchor near 

 the pier w-ere the small carrying steamers which were to bear 

 the catches to the port of Lochalsh, a full sixty miles distant, 

 whence they might be sent by rail to the markets of the south. 

 Above the loch the smoke of all these craft lay in a thin blue 

 mist, through which could be seen the long Isle of Ewe, and, 

 away at the entrance to the open sea, where the long swell 

 broke lazily, the dark rocks of Rudha a' Choinn. 



The bogs were frozen hard this morning, so that one could 

 set a straight course for the Lochan of the White-fronted 

 Geese, and soon from the shelter of a rock I spied it wath the 



