HIGHLAND FISHERMEN. 313 



Gaelic spoken along the east coasts, the fishermen in parti- 

 cular being almost wholly a foreign race of people, that is, 

 not Highlanders. Some are English settlers, and some are 

 descendants of Danes and other races who have originally 

 been left by chance or choice on this coast. Their names are 

 frequently Danish or Swedish. In fact they are altogether a 

 different people from the Celtic inhabitants of the neighbour- 

 ing mountains. There is an almost regular line drawn 

 through the country, where the Gaelic language ends and the 

 English commences. The town of Nairn is divided by this 

 line, one half of the inhabitants being talkers of Gaelic, and 

 the other speaking only English. It is said that one of our 

 prime ministers boasted to a foreigner that his master, the 

 King of England, possessed a town so extensive that the 

 inhabitants of one end spoke a different language from those 

 of the other end. Nairn was the town in question ; and 

 whatever the merit of the joke may be, it corroborates what 

 I stated. 



To return, however, to our Highland fishermen. "Wearily 

 and heavily the poor fellows labour along the road, and by 

 the time they reach Forres, Nairn, and the other towns near 

 the shore, they are sadly knocked up, their food during the 

 journey having been poor and scanty, consisting generally of 

 potatoes, and perhaps oatmeal, mixed up frequently with cold 

 water, a sorry mess for a Highlander who is taking the 

 unaccustomed exercise of tramping along a hard road. Many 

 of these men know pretty well where, and by whom, they 

 shall be hired, but others have to seek employment where 

 they can. Their faces grow visibly shorter as soon as they 

 are engaged : and they set to work, though possessing little 

 seamanship, to assist in putting into order the nets, floats, 

 stores, &c. In a few days every boat is afloat and ready. 

 Then comes the parting-glass with their shore-staying friends, 

 which, by the bye, is often multiplied until it amounts to a 

 very fair allowance. 



As the boats set sail from the small harbours and piers, 

 the wives and families of the fishermen who belong to the 

 place come down to see their relatives off; and many groups 

 of weather-beaten women sit and watch the boats till out of 

 sight, discussing anxiously the chances of a good or bad 

 season, a matter of no light import to them, as their comfort 

 during the rest of the year almost entirely depends upon it. 



I have frequently seen some stout boy, strong and fearless, 



