up. You know, Ralph, my brother tar, youcouldn't see it yourself, or it's delighted you'd have been entirely!"and Rory laughed again till the tears came into his eyes.
"I'm not sorry that this happened," said McBain, "after all."
For her size I do not think there was a more comfortable little yachtafloat than the _Flower of Arrandoon_. Small though the box was theycalled by courtesy the saloon, it was fitted with every comfort, andthere was not an inch of space from stem to stern that was not welleconomised for some useful purpose. One useful lesson in yacht life ourheroes were not long in learning, and that was to put everything backagain in its proper place as soon as it was done with; in other words,the circumstances under which they were placed taught them tidiness, sothat there was no lubberliness about their little ship. And everythingin and about her was the perfection of cleanliness and neatness, forthey were not only the crew, but the cook and the cabin-boy as well.And so, plain woodwork was as white as snow, paint-work clean, polishedwood looked as bright as the back of a boatman beetle, and brass shonelike burnished gold. Their meals they managed to serve up to time, andcooking was performed by means of a spirits-of-wine-canteen.
But it is not the cruise of the _Flower of Arrandoon_ I am writing, elsewould I love to tell you of all the adventures our heroes had amongthese islands, and how thoroughly they enjoyed themselves. No wonderthey felt well, and happy, and jolly; no wonder that Allan said to hiscompanions, one beautiful day early in August, "I do wonder that morefellows don't go in for this sort of life."
They had just been dining gipsy-fashion on shore when he made theremark. They were reclining on the top of a high cliff on the westerncoast of Skye. Far down beneath them was the sea, the blue Minch,bounded on the distant horizon by the rugged mountains of Harris andLewis. To their right lay the rocks of the Cave of Gold; beyond that,on a lofty promontory, the ruins of Duntulm Castle; then green hills;while downwards to the left sloped the land until quite on a level withthe water; and there in a little natural harbour of rock lay the yacht,looking, as Rory always said, as tidy and neat as nine pins, butwonderfully diminutive as seen from the spot where Allan McGregor andhis friends were indolently lounging.
The day was exceedingly bright and beautiful, the sun shone withunclouded splendour, the hills were purple-painted with the heather'sbloom, and the air was laden with the perfume of the wild thyme.
No one answered Allan's remark; perhaps everybody was thinking howpleasant it all was, nevertheless.
"Boys!" said Ralph, at length.
"Hullo!" cried all hands, but nobody moved a muscle.
"Boys!" said Ralph, in a louder key.
"That means `attention,'" said Allan, sitting up. All hands followedhis example.
"Och! then," cried Rory, "just look at Ralph's face. Sure now if wecould believe that the dear boy possesses such a thing as a mind, we'dthink there was something on it."
"Well," said Ralph, smiling, "I sha'n't keep you longer in suspense; theletter I got to-day from Uig brought me--that is, brought _us_--gloriousnews."
"And you've kept it all this time to yourself?" said Rory. "Och! you'rea rogue."
"I confess," said Ralph, "it was wrong of me, but I thought we couldtalk the matter ever so much more comfortably over after dinner,especially in a place like this.
"I've got the best father in the world," said Ralph, with an emphasis,and almost an emotion, which he did not usually exhibit.
"No one doubts it," said Allan, somewhat sadly; "I wish I had a father."
"And I," said Rory.
"Well, would you believe it, boys?" continued Ralph, "he now in thisletter offers me what we all so much desire a real yacht, a big,glorious yacht, that may sail to any clime and brave the stormiestseas. He said that though I had never even hinted my wishes, hegathered from my letters that my heart was bent upon sailing a yacht,and that his son should own one worthy of the family name he bore. Oh!boys; aren't you happy? But what ails you?"
He looked from the one to the other as he spoke.
"What ails you? What ails you both, boys? Speak."
"Well!" said Rory, "then the truth is this, that the same thought isrunning through both our two minds at once. And there is only one wayout of the trouble. We won't go with you, there! We won't go in youryacht, in _your_ yacht. Mind you, Ralph, dear boy, I say we won't go in_your_ yacht."
"That's it," said Allan, repeating Rory's words; "we won't go in _your_yacht."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Ralph, right heartily. Then he jumped to hisfeet, and smilingly doffing his cap, "I respect your Celtic pride,gentlemen," he said. "It shall not be _my_ yacht. It shall be _our_yacht, and _we'll go shares in expenses_."
"Spoken like men, every one of you," roared McBain, no longer able torestrain himself. "I'm proud of my boys. Indeed, indeed, old McBain isproud of his pupils."
And he shook hands with them all round. This is Highland fashion, youknow, reader.
They spent fully four hours longer on that cliff-top; they had so muchto talk of now, for new prospects were opening out before them, and theydetermined to try at least to turn them to good account.
The sun was setting ere they reached their little vessel once again, andprepared to turn in for the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
A SUMMER'S DAY AT SEA--STRANGE SCENERY--THE SQUALL--ADVENTURE AMONGBOTTLE-NOSED WHALES--THE "SNOWBIRD."
The cutter yacht had been riding at anchor for two whole days and nightsin the beautiful little bay of Talisker. This bay lies on thewest-by-south side of the wonderful Isle of Wings, which we call Skye,and forms, in fact, the mouth or entrance to one of the prettiest glensin all the Highlands. [It is called in the Gaelic language "the wingedisland," owing to its peculiar formation.] Let me try to describe it toyou then in a few words, but I shall be very clever indeed if I can giveyou anything like a just conception of its beauty. Suppose you havebeen standing in from the sea, and have just dropped anchor at the mouthof the glen, which is not more than half a mile in width, you will findon your right hand and on your left tall beetling cliffs, the tops ofwhich are often hidden by the clouds. You may judge of their heightwhen I tell you that the eagles have built their nests for ages on thesouthern rock. The bay itself is perfectly crescentic, receiving in itscentre the waters of a fine salmon stream, while its waves break uponsilver sand instead of the usual shingle. The bottom of the glen isperfectly flat, and occupied by well-tilled land; its sides descendprecipitously from the table-land above, so much so that the burns orstreamlets that form after every summer shower come roaring down overthem in white foaming cascades. The upper end of the glen is wooded,and from above the trees peep out the white chimneys of the mansionhouse of Talisker. This glen or ravine ends in a sugar-loaf mountain ofgreat height, the little pathway to the top of which winds round andround, so that looking at it from below it reminds you forcibly of thepictures of the Tower of Babel, as seen in old-fashioned illustratedBibles.
Our heroes had been enjoying themselves, fishing in the stream all day,dining with the hospitable squire in the evenings, and going off atnights to sleep on board their little yacht.
"Boys," said McBain, early in the morning of the third day, "rouse outlike good fellows."
Rory and Allan were soon stirring. Ralph contented himself with simplyturning himself round in his oblong hammock, and feebly inquiring,--
"What's the matter?"
"What's the matter?" said McBain, sitting down near him; "this is thematter--the morning is far too bright to please me; there is a littlewind from the nor'ard, and it seems increasing, and the glass istumbling down, and we can't lie here unless we want to leave the bonesof the _Flower of Arrandoon_ to bleach on the sands."
"Och!" cried Rory, in his richest brogue; "it's very wrong of you tobother the poor English crayture so much. Bring him a cup of tea andleave him alone."
But Ralph was now fully aroused, and three minutes afterwards the threefriends were splashing and dashing in the sea, mounting th
e rollers,diving and treading water, laughing and joking, and making more noisethan all the gulls and kittywakes that screamed around them.
McBain had stopped on board to cook the breakfast, and it was all readyby the time they were dressed--fresh salmon steaks, new-laid eggs, andfragrant coffee.
"Now then, my lads," cried McBain, "on deck all of you, and stand by toget the anchor up. I've sent a message to the squire, saying we muststart, and bidding him good-bye for the present.
"Which way are we going, captain?" asked Rory.
"Up north, my lad," was the reply.
The Cruise of the Snowbird: A Story of Arctic Adventure Page 12