WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 59 



my people came from Perthshire, and suggested he might be 

 from I slay. And from Islay he came ! the island of Morrisons 

 and whisky. But MacDiarmid was his name. " But that's 

 a Perthshire name," I said. " Yes, yes," said he, " to be 

 sure, from Perthshire my people came." "And from Glen 

 Lyon, possibly ? " I said, " and the Seven Kings ? " And 

 " Yes, yes," he said, "to be sure, and it is Glen Lyon you 

 know ? Well, well, and that is the peautiful glen and that 

 wull be suxty poonds of coot tobacco, and wan hundred and 

 suxty poonds of black twust. And did you see the Maclean 

 was back to Duart Castle ? Aich, aich ! it was a ferry fine 

 proceeding ! You see, his mother's grandmother's daughter's 

 niece she would come from Glen Islay, and so it wass they 

 came to their own again. Noo hoo much tae will you have 

 here we must mark it a' doon seeing you may be callin' at 

 another Brutish port or in the back parts o' Mull or maybe 

 in Ireland too." 



His junior was Irish, with a Bow Bells accent, and the 

 speech of both was very pleasant to me after months of 

 Norse. The junior leant against the galley door as I had 

 morning coffee, and leisurely interviewed our very busy 

 cook told him about Lerwick, asked him, "Did yew 'ave a 

 good viyage, stooard ? " to which pale Hansen with the 

 golden hair answered, " Yah, yah, goot," indifferently, but 

 he brightened up when told of the fish to be had in Lerwick. 

 " Wy, yuss, for a shillin' you can git as much 'ere as will 

 feed all 'ands, woy, for a sixpence or fourpence you can git a 

 cod 'ere of saiy fourteen or sixteen pounds ! " ' Yah, yah, 

 but vill it be goot ? " said incredulous Hansen. " Yuss, 

 you bet y'r loife. Ain't no Billinsgaite fish 'ere, matey ! 

 wot I mean is you git 'em 'ere 'alf aloive ! But did ye 

 git any wyles ? " he continued, " on yer weigh accrost ? " 

 " Wyles ? " repeated Hansen. " Wy, yuss, wyles, wyles 

 I say ; you're a wyler, ain't yer ? " and it dawned at last on 

 Hansen " Vales ! nay, nay, ikke vales no seed none." 



We went ashore with the brass-bounders rowing hard 

 against wind over the fizzling sea amongst hundreds of tame 

 herring gulls, most of them in their young brown plum- 

 age, and amongst armies of these sea-robbers, scarts, or 



