WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 55 



hunting and waiting for the cachalot or sperm, small game 

 for our big harpoon, but worth much money. 



Perhaps we may have a chance down there of Tunny 

 Bonita Sharks and flying fish to put in our bag, and possibly 

 even a turtle. 



Fair Isle flashes N.W. at eight-twelve P.M., then Sum- 

 burgh Head. 



We have been doing eight knots with the wind against us, 

 consuming two tons of oil, from Tonsberg to Shetland, which 

 would have taken sixteen tons of coal. 



Then Bressay Light red and white, the night hazy, wind 

 going to S.W. As we come into lee of the island we slow 

 down to three miles an hour, for Lerwick and its light on 

 Bressay Island are only a few miles off and well, it is just 

 as good fun going into harbour by daylight so we go slow 

 and the St Ebba's engines start a new chant. This music of 

 our engine we hear sometimes, and do not quite understand. 

 And now Henriksen hears the music ; we lean over the bridge 

 in heavy coats in " the black dark and feen rain," as he calls 

 it, and he hears the singing. Yes, at " Slow " we have the 

 full chorus of voices coming up from the engine-room into 

 the silent night, the general theme a chant, of young voices 

 repeating musically the creed, these change to sopranos, and 

 interludes of deeper women's voices speaking low-toned in- 

 structions then all united ! It is just as if we stood at the 

 entrance of some Gothic cathedral at night. 



But I leave the fascination of deck and " feen rain and 

 black dark " plus cathedral music to Henriksen and light the 

 midnight oil, and Henriksen hangs on to Mousa green light 

 and dodges fishermen's nets and boats, and in the grey 

 morning tells me it blew up from sou' -west and got very cold. 



I was not the least aware of above, as we slipped into 

 Lerwick at five, but yesterday's rapid rise of glass promised 

 as much. 



Lerwick at five A.M. in the morning in summer is the same as 

 at any other hour in the twenty-four ; it is always light and 

 grey. Green fields and low peaty hills lie behind grey stone 

 houses, and the grey clouds hang low on the hills. The sea- 

 water is grey-green. You might call the houses a sort of 



