Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 7, 1899

240
THE CELTIC MONTHLY.
which to my thinking is like the sound of sweet
music in the ear. Big John's voice rose in the
dusk with a fine note of triumph in it.
"Doctor Macdonald, there will be no need of
you to come now, for the good wife is doing
fine, and — and — doctor, it is a boy!"
'^ DM — but you are the rich man this day,
John. Blessings on you, and it is T that know
what you are thinking. It might ha' been a
lassie!"
The doctor, good soul, was rowed ashore amid
laughter and merriment, and left to trudge his
ten miles home along the lonely road. When it
happens to be men's work to go out of their way
for nothing, it is little that they think about it.
But when we had fetched round the point,
and were slowly rowing in the direction of the
Isle of Ridges, the men in both boats stopped
and began to put on their oilskins. The air was
hotter than ever, and even more still. Not a
seabird cried now. But out of the swelter of
silence came at last a long, low muttering of
thunder. The men in Big John's boat were
setting their sail, and in a short while both boats
were being rowed slowly into the gloom, with
their close-reefed sails hitched uj) to the mast,
and ready for the wind when it came.
We had not long to wait After another peal
of thunder, and a vivid flash of lightning that
lit up the sea like the sun, a low moaning and
hissing .sound was heard coming up from the
south through the mirk — growing louder and
louder as it came — hissing like the red hot iron
when it is plunged into water; so, mad with
rage, the black squall came flying acro.ss the sea,
tearing up the glassy deep as it flew, and lashing
the waves iuto a yeasty jjother of foam.
" Stand by, lads,'' cried Ruari, "put some way
on her — quick, quick !"
The squall wa.s on us at last, and with a rising
shriek it struck the boat on the port side, and
sent her heeling over to the gunwale before she
gathered suflicient way to stand up to the wind.
Then, like an arrow from a bow, through
drenching rain, she shot forward into the jabble
of sea and storm, the rag of her sail straining
and creaking and bending the stout mast as a
withy — plunging she went through the huge
waves that buried us again and again in a
smother of foam. Oh! but it was wild, mad,
thrilling work ! Now we were racing along the
ridge of the seas, now we were down in the
black hollows. Thud — s-s-s-h ! TImd — s-s-s-h !
plunged the boat, and all the while Ruari of the
Dogs sat with his hand on the tiller, and said no
word. A false move meant death to us all, but
there was no fear at all, for these men looked
death in the face every time they were caught
in a squall, and the hand that held the tiller had
a grip of iron, and the eye that watched the
waves was not less sure than the eye of the
iolair when it looks in the face of the rising sun.
Thud — ss-s-h ! Thud — s-s-s-h !
As we baled out the water, we knew that in
the heart of us there was a wild thrill of relish
as we lashed through the storm and cheated the
Black Spirit of its prey.
"I can see the loom o' the land," shouted
Duncan from the bow, and immediately he was
drenched by a wave that leaped over him out of
the night.
" Aye, aye, we are doing tine, lads," replied
Ruari, and he in turn was answered by a cold
shower bath that sent a shiver down the small
of his back.
" We have the shelter of the hill now," said
Padraig Cam, " and it is a dirty night that we
have picked for our bit trip. I'm thinking that
for all the wind and rain. Big John will be in
before us, to see if the wee boy has the red hair
on his head ! "
" Look you, Ruari, that you fetch us in quick — "
t/iud — s-s-sh ! and another drench of water —
" before the other boat ! " And Hamish was
spluttering like a drowning puppy, with the
salt water in his mouth.
"No, Hamish my man, I will not be able to
out-steer any man who is sitting at the tiller
with the love o' wife and child in his heart. I
am a single man, and Big John has something
ashore that is pulling him through the sea this
night like a glare o' light. Is it not true,
Padraig — you should be knowing it ? "
" Aye, it is so," answered the One-eyed Man
with a queer smile. He was thinking of Aileen
the Fair.
And when the " Star of Evening " reached
Kinloch at the dawning, her crew saw Big John
standing on the shore waiting for them. He
said with a laugh that the "Sea Maid" was a
faster-built boat than the " Star of Evening,"
and that there was no credit at all in fetching
the loch sooner than Ruari of the Dogs, who was
the best sailor in Kinloch.
We did not contradict Big John. But as we
wrung the water from our clothes, we knew that
if Big John had been in the " Star of Evening "
that night, or any other boat, he would have
reached Kinloch first. It is strange. But it is
true.
And this is how we bring the wee ones home-
TORQUIL MaCLEOD.
Gaelic Society of London. — Many of our
readera will regret to learn that Mr. W. A. Martin,
who has so ably acted as Secretary to this society for
a number of years, has just resigned office.