party's anticipated enjoyments. The swelling flood seemed to 

 rejoice in their disappointment, and the whistling wind to 

 mock their leader's call. Imprisoned thus, the interval be- 

 tween an early breakfast and the hour for lunch was passed 

 in pleasant games, and the severity of fate's decree was 

 softened by the melody of song." 



But worse befell those members attending the 

 Field Club Conference at Rosapenna in July, 1910, who 

 had been on a trip to Tory Island. Dr. Praeger tells 

 the story: — 



"By five o'clock we were aboard again enjoying a hearty 

 tea, and the 'Cynthia' steamed off into the fog, which was 

 slowly becoming denser. Experiences were exchanged, 

 observations compared, notes made, and specimens safely 

 put away. Meanwhile, Horn Head being — presumably — 

 re-passed, the steamer edged southward, endeavouring to 

 find her way into Sheep Haven. The light north-easterly 

 breeze died away; the slight lazy roll on the ocean ceased, 

 showing that the vessel was now within the heads; but still 

 no land, until at length a clamour of sea-birds, growing 

 gradually louder, arose to starboard, and then suddenly the 

 white foam around a conical stack became visible close 

 ahead, followed by a long line of foam along the base of a 

 range of cliffs. The place could not be identified, and so in 

 thirteen fathoms the anchor went down. Air and water alike 

 were still, and the only sound was the incessant clamour of 

 the birds— the musical cries of hundreds of kittiwakes, the 

 hoarse notes of guillemots and razorbills and the shrill piping 

 of their young, and the calling of herring gulls. Time passed 

 slowly, but presently, as darkness was falling, a cheer 

 heralded the approach of a long white fishing boat. From her 

 crew the befogged party learned their position — close in 

 under the 'Little Horn,' south-east of Horn Head; but in view 

 of the gathering darkness and the heaviness of the fog, the 

 captain decided not to move. So the party settled down for 

 a night at sea. A few cushions and rugs were produced, and 

 life-belts were requisitioned as pillows. A smoking concert 

 was organised on the upper deck, in which Mr. Donald, 

 assistant manager at Rosapenna Hotel, proved invaluable; 

 and at 10-30 "dinner" was announced — a cup of tea, without 

 milk, and one sandwich all round. By 1 a.m. all was silence, 

 but a couple of hours later the birds again took up their 

 chorus, and a new day came. At four o'clock our indomitable 

 waiter went round with a number of lumps of sugar in a 

 saucer — the last of the provisions. At seven the fog seemed a 

 trifle lighter, and the captain warily crept away eastward, ami 

 presently land was sighted which was made out to be Black 

 Rock, off Rosguill. Then the end came with startling 

 suddenness. The mist began to lift; soon the sun came 

 bursting through; and by 8 o'clock the 'Cynthia' came up to 

 Downings Pier in full sunlight, with the mist rolling in 

 sheets of flowing white off the surrounding hills. Never was 

 breakfast more welcome than thai to which the party sal 

 down half an hour later." 



