Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 7, 1899

12^
THE CELTIC MONTH L^.
~ I
Jess of Cult^eigrejn.
A TRUE STORY OF THE HEBRIDES.
Chapter I. — The Parting.
fT was a straggling line of a dozen or more
crofts, which lay, as the name signified,
— "At the back of the Sun." Across a
narrow ford, the open sea thundered on the
white-shelled shore of Melliost. Southward,
some two miles distant, stood tlie capital, with
its several streets and innunieiable stores, its
court-house, its five churches, and its great
turreted castle, flanked by the rocky headland
of Arnish, where an arm of the Minch, lulled
from its turbulency to a lake of glass, formed
the most beautiful natural harbour in the three
kingdoms. Eastward, stretched a road, which
terminated at the Point of Eye. Westward,
twelve miles of boggy moorland separated
where the wide Atlantic washed the sands of
Barvas.
It was here, at Oulreigrein, the lovers parted,
while the kindly shades of dusk deepened to
cover their last embraces, and the wintry wind
blew shrilly and drowned the maiden's sighs.
For this was their first severance since they had
plighted their troth at this very ingle, when
Ewan Morrison came back from the East Coast
fishing, where all the fascinations of the fair
maids of Wick had failed to banish from his
memory the homely grace of Jess Maclean.
True, his sweetheart's charm was not that she
was beautiful ; for the figure of Jess was short
and sturdy rather than petite and delicate, her
shoulders already a trifle bent by the burden of
many a stack of peats from the moors to the
little homestead which she shared with her aged
father, and of which she performed all the
multifarious duties of crofter and housewife in
one. Wiiat if her cheek betrayed somewhat the
harass of over-work, combined with the rough
vigour of health inured to storm and sunshine,
and her large dark eyes that melancholy, which
seems to come naturally to these far dwellers
by the sea. What cared Ewan for peach-bloom
complexion or sparkling eye when he had dis-
covered the truest heart in all the island to beat
in the bosom of Jess Maclean 1
And who so comely in the eyes of Jess as the
stalwart Ewan, so tall and straight and gallant
to look upon in his sailor uniform of blue? For
Ewan was one of the envied body of Royal
Naval Eeserve, the seamen's volunteer force so
dear to the ambition of the Gaelic fishermen,
and whose badge was a sure passport to their
women's hearts.
But now those blissful four weeks of court-
ship were over, in which Jess had been wont to
kiss good-bye to her lover each day as he went
on his way so blithely to drill at the battery
half a mile distant ; or, when evening came, to
pass a halcyon hour over Jess's peat fire on his
walk homeward, watching her nimble fingers
ply her knitting-needles, while he recounted
stories of the mainland, or now and then joined
Jess in crooning some plaintive Gaelic melody,
while the old father, in his great chair on the
other side of the hearth, dozed and nodded
approval in turn. To-morrow there would be
no such happy hour as this, for Ewan was to
join the haddoc^ fishing fleet which would sail
out from the Broad Bay at early dawn.
It might be many days, even weeks, ere they
would so enjoy each other's society again.
Ewan's home lay six miles farther in the
country, and the strong young lover was not
one to neglect duty for pleasuie when the harvest
of the sea lay waiting a rich recompense for
hours of danger and toil. And now each undei-
taking of his willing hands meant a step nearer
the fulfilment of wedded happiness ; for though
the little croft, of which Jess was sole mistress,
stood ready to acknowledge him master, Ewan
would have scorned to come to any maid with
out that competence, however small, which
should give an added worth to his adveni-
" And it is not long that you must be thinking,
Jess, my woman," he adjured, as they clasped
hands at Jess's door for the twentieth time,
" for it iss you that will be saying when I will
be coming back that it iss a ferry good thing
whaterter that there will be the haddock fishing
to put by the winter till I will be goin' on drill
again."
And though Jess shook her head a trifle sadly,
murmuiing shyly in her dulcet Gaelic something