2 WITH XATUHK AND J CAMKBJ. 



speculating u])()n our cliances of fctcliing St. Kilda 

 on tlie morrow. As an instance of the weatlier- 

 wisdom of the natives of the Western Isles, I think 

 it worth while to record the })r()phecy of a shrewd 

 old man — an inhabitant of Loch Boisdale — at smi- 

 down on the twelfth. He said that on the following 

 day we should have a strong breeze from the south- 

 east in the morning, a shower about dinner-time, 

 and a south-westerly wind with sunshine in the 

 afternoon. 



Early on the morning of the thirteenth we arrived 

 at weird and lonely Obbe, our last calling place 

 before attempting to breast the rolling waves of the 

 Atlantic, and carry the hrst news of the doings of 

 the outer world during the year of Grace eighteen 

 hundred and ninety-six to the isolated folks living — 



"Where tlie northern l)ill()\v.s in thunder roar 

 And da«h themselves to spray <jn Hirta's lonely shore." 



Our captain very much doubted whether we 

 should be able to land at St. Kilda on account of 

 a stiff breeze which was blowing from the ver}- 

 worst of all possible jjoints of the compass, viz. 

 the south-east. When the wind is in this quarter 

 it fills Village Bay — the only })lace in wliicli a 

 shij) can find shelter — with such fearful seas that 

 it is exceedingly dangerous to enter. 



The official jjilot, a wrinkle-visaged, weather- 

 beaten old man, wlio came al)oard at this place, 

 was, however, like the seer of Loch Hoisdale, liojje- 

 ful of an earl}' change in Ihe wcatlu'r, and advised 

 a liial. 



Whilst landing two or tlirc(> passengers, a 

 fi'iend of mine sliowed me a small, wliitewashed, 

 stone cairn, built upon a I'ock for tlie guidance of 



