Jt QUIST HAVSWi 81 



So late was it when at last we gained the entrance 

 of our haven that the steep sides of the Stack were 

 purple in the failing light, and the level sun was glisten- 

 ing on the wet plumage of the cormorants that clustered 

 on the sea-worn rocks of Laxford as we entered the 

 narrow channel. As we made our slow way in and out 

 among the islands, whose bleak sides bore no sign of 

 house, or field, or tillage, there was a sudden rustle 

 among the bracken that clothed a steep brow overhead, 

 and a goat scrambled to a commanding buttress high 

 above us, a bearded patriarch, with flowing hair and 

 wrinkled horns. His bold eyes watched us calmly as we 

 passed his little kingdom, as if he knew that there were 

 none so bold as dare dispute his reign. His shaggy 

 followers, close behind him, peered cautiously through 

 the covert of the ferns ; one snow-white kid stood out 

 against the green side of the hill. Then at a signal from 

 their chief, they all leaped lightly down and disappeared. 



By the shore a quaint-looking craft was lying, making 

 ready for departure. Her mainsail was up, her men 

 were at work upon the anchor. Two dogs, the last of the 

 ship's company, were swimming off from land. A couple 

 of boats were moored at her side, and touches of colour 

 in them a bright new shawl, a vivid kerchief, and a 

 scarlet cap were plain tokens of her business there. She 

 was a floating shop ; on whose timely visits the dwellers 

 by these lonely inlets depend for the necessaries of 

 their hard existence. From her they buy their plaids 

 and bonnets, their plates and dishes, their tea, and their 

 tobacco. 



p 



