250 Mr. Macgillivray’s Account of the Outer Hebrides. 
the storm; and often during the winter they can only make a short 
daily excursion in quest of a precarious morsel of food. In the 
mean time the natives are snugly seated around their blazing peat- 
fires, amusing themselves with the tales and songs of other years, 
and enjoying the domestic harmony which no people can enjoy 
with less interruption than the Hebridean Celts. 
The sea-weeds cast ashore by these storms are employed for ma- 
nure. Sometimes in winter the shores are seen strewn with logs, 
staves, and pieces of wrecks. ‘These, however, have hitherto been 
invariably appropriated by the lairds and factors to themselves, and 
the poor tenants, although encugh of timber comes upon their 
farms to furnish roofing for their huts, are obliged to make voyages 
to the Sound of Mull, and various parts cf the mainland, for the 
purpose of obtaining at a high price the wood which they require. 
These logs are chiefly of fir, pine, and mahogany. Hogsheads of 
rum, bales of cotton, and bags of coffee, are sometimes also cast 
ashore. Several species of seeds from the West Indies, together 
with a few foreign shells, as Janthina communis and Spirula Pe- 
ronii, are not unfrequent along the shores. Pumice and slags also 
eccur In small quantities. 
Scenes of surpassing beauty, however, present themselves among 
these islands. What can be more delightful than a midnight walk 
by moonlight along the lone sea-beach cf some secluded isle, the 
glassy sea sending from its surface a long stream of dancing and 
dazzling light,—no sound to be heard save the small ripple of the 
idle wavelet, or the scream of a sea-bird watching the fry that 
‘swarms along the shores! In the short nights of summer, the me- 
lancholy song of the throstle has scarcely ceased on the hill-side, 
when the merry carol of the lark commences, and the plover and 
snipe sound their shrill pipe. Again, how glorious is the scene 
which presents itself from the summit of one of the loftier hills, 
when the great ocean is seen glowing with the last splendour of the 
setting sun, and the lofty isles of St. Kilda rear their giant heads, 
amid the purple blaze, on the extreme verge of the horizon! But 
as poetry is here out ef place, I desist. 
The sea affords immense quantities of fish, crustacea, and mol- 
lusca, which the natives turn to little account. But as this, and 
many other subjects, are to be particularly discussed in the subse- 
quent parts of my description, I shall for the present conclude, sa- 
tisfied with having presented a very general outline of those remote 
and neglected islands. 
(To be continued.) 
