Frof. GeiMe—The Old Man of Eoy. 51 



beneath the western waters, they glow and burn, yet behind such a 

 dreamy sea-born haze, that the onlooker can hardly believe himself 

 to be in the far north, but recalls perhaps memories of Capri and 

 Sorrento, and the blue Mediterranean. Looking at them from the 

 mainland, we are soon struck by one feature at their western end. 

 A strange square tower-like projection rises behind the last and 

 lower spur of cliff which descends into the sea. We may walk mile 

 after mile along the Caithness shore, and still that mysterious mass 

 keeps its place. As we move westwards, however, the higher cliffs 

 behind open out, and we can see on a clear day with the naked eye 

 that the mass is a huge column of rock rising in advance of the cliff. 

 It is the Old Man of Hoy — a notable landmark, well deserving its fame. 



Let no tourist who has got up as far as Thurso hesitate to cross 

 the Firth and reach Stromness in Orkney. He will find a steamer 

 ready to carry him thither in a few hours, and in the voyage will 

 pass close under the grandest cliff in the British Islands. Above all 

 he will make the personal acquaintance of the Old Man, or at least 

 will be brought so near as to conceive a very profound respect for 

 him. The accompanying vignette was sketched from the vessel in this 

 passage, and though by no means taken from the most picturesque 

 point of view, may serve to convey some notion of the form and size 

 of this the most remarkable feature in Orkney scenery. The Old Man 

 is a column of yellow and red sandstone more than 600 feet high. 

 It stands well in front of the cliff, with which however it is still 

 connected by a low ridge of ruined blocks. Doubtless one main 

 cause of its impressiveness lies in the fact that its summit is con- 

 siderably higher than the cliff behind it. Thus it stands out against 

 the sky even when seen from a distance. Its base is washed on 

 three sides by the waves, which rise and fall over a low reef running 

 out from underneath the base of the column. Formerly a huge 

 buttress, like the Giant's Leg of Bressay in Shetland, used to pro- 

 ject into the sea. But it has been swept away and for many years 

 the Old Man has had to keep his watch and wage his battle with the 

 elements with the support of but one leg. 



Unless the ground-swell be too heavy, the steamboat usually keeps 

 close enough to the base of the great precipices to allow the masonry 

 of this wonderful obelisk to be distinctly seen. Like the cliff 

 behind, it is built up of successive bars of sandstone forming 

 portions of horizontal or very gently inclined strata. Its base, how- 

 ever, rests on a pedestal of different materials, consisting of two 

 well-defined bands, both of which can be traced stretching landwards 

 and passing under the base of the cliff. The lower of these two 

 bands is plainly marked by lines of pai'allel stratification inclined at 

 a considerably higher angle than the dip of the sandstones, and 

 evidently composed of something quite different from them. Viewed 

 thus from the sea in a brief and passing way, the column can be 

 recognized as composed of at least two very distinct portions. The 

 main pillar rests unconformably upon a platform of older and tilted 

 strata. 



It is only when one lands on the island of Hoy, and examines the 



