IN THE SHETLANDS 205 
much less striking. I have seen the same thing with 
a shark at sea. 
This morning the ravens again flew over the ness, 
going the other way, however, and I only saw three 
of them. As before, it was the skuas who informed 
me of this, but, in spite of their shrieking, they did 
not seem to meddle much with the grim, black birds. 
Though there is an impressiveness about the raven’s 
whole appearance which, with the knowledge of what 
it is, sets the imagination working, yet there is noth- 
ing majestic in its actual flight, and these three, with 
their measured, laboured flappings, offer a clumsy 
contrast to the arrow-like grace of the skuas. 
The chick is still upon the ledge, so I have still 
a chance of seeing him leave it; but even with two 
plaids, on one of which I lie and in the other wrap 
myself, like an embalmed mummy, it is cold work 
waiting—and still more when one has the lumbago. 
I was awakened early this morning by nasty pains, 
more right on the hip—the very bone of it—than in 
the true lumbagoey region ; but it plays right lum- 
bago music—’tis enough, ’twill serve.” This comes 
of lying on the rocks for six hours at a time in a 
Shetland summer. I was a fool, I think, to come 
here; but is there any one who is not, either in think- 
Ing or acting at any time ici bas ? 
When we are born we cry that we are come 
To this great stage of fools. 
Now I have the lumbago, with very little for it, and 
had I not come here I should be regretting the loss of 
