102 St. Kildafrom Without. 



was weighed and we steamed out, but only to meet 

 a white fog, which crept in from the Atlantic and 

 drove us back to anchor again for another four and 

 twenty hours. 



At last, on Monday evening, the Butt of Lewis was 

 rounded, and the ship's course shaped for St. Kilda. 

 Eighteen hours later the anchor was dropped again 

 in smooth water, this time in Loch Roag, a land- 

 locked harbour to the north-west of Lewis, half a 

 mile from a miniature Stone Henge which crowned a 

 neighbouring slope. We had been within fifteen 

 miles of our destination, and had been forced by a 

 freshening gale to put back and run for shelter, and 

 were not sorry when we reached it. All the crockery 

 in the ship was not broken, for an excellent luncheon, 

 with all necessary plates and glasses, was soon ready 

 for us. 



For the rest of the day it blew and rained, and 

 next morning was blowing still, with no sign of a 

 change for the better in the weather, and, as time was 

 limited, we could only bow to superior force, accept 

 a defeat, and drive the fifteen miles to Stornoway, 

 passing halfway across a lonely lake with a little 

 island, on which a pair of Great Black-backed Gulls 

 had made their solitary nest. 



A rumour, soon after, found its . way southwards, 

 through the Oban Times, brought by the passengers 

 on board the Hebridean, which effected a landing, 

 not many days after our unsuccessful attempt, 

 that since the St. Kildians had then last held 

 communication with the outer world, two strange 

 birds, " like Razor Bills, but twice the size " a 

 fair rough description of the Great Auk had been 

 seen by more than one of the islanders. Stories 

 to much the same purport have, during the last 



