CHAPTER II.
"AH, MANY A MEMORY OF HOW YE DEALT WITH ME."
When Yaspard reached the other shore he was met by two boys, one hisown age, the other about thirteen. These were Laurence and GilbertHarrison, sons of Mr. Adiesen's factotum, and they were usually styledLowrie and Gibbie.
Boden was a small island, and there were only three houses on it,namely, the Ha', the factor's house, and Trullyabister, a very ancientdwelling nearly in ruins. Every house in Shetland has a name of itsown, so has every knoll and field and crag and islet, therefore the Ha'was called Moolapund, and the Harrisons' house Noostigard. To attendchurch the inhabitants were obliged to cross to a neighbouring island,and this the majority of them did very regularly. Stores were broughttwice a year from the town of Lerwick; and it seldom happened thatthese ran short, for Miss Adiesen was a shrewd housewife and JamesHarrison a notable manager; also the Laird was somewhat eccentric, andobjecting strongly to all society outside of Boden, did not like that"provisions short" should be made an excuse for frequent expeditions tothe larger islands.
The isolated life of Boden had certain charms of its own for ascientist like Mr. Adiesen, and a quiet domestic creature like hissister, whose happiness had been wrecked in early life, and who desirednothing better than to hide herself at Moolapund and devote her life tothe wants of her lost twin-brother's children.
Boden was a pleasant home to the Harrisons', for they were a largefamily, simple crofters, content in each other's society, andcherishing no earthly ambition. It was a satisfactory retreat from theworld for Gaun Neeven, who lived alone with a half-witted attendant inthe old house of Trullyabister. It was a paradise to little Signy,whose imaginative, romantic nature found infinite delight in the beautyof the Isle, in its myriads of sea-fowl, in its grand-encircling ocean,in the freedom and poetry of life with such environs. But to a stronglad like Yaspard, full of vitality, longing for action and the companyof his fellows, there was less to content him, and much to stir in himthat spirit of mischief which attends on every energetic boy notblessed with wise guardians, and with plenty of time on his hands.
"Come into the boat, boys," said Yaspard, as he ran his skiff to thenoost; and the brothers, nothing loth, scrambled aboard.
"I ran across," said our hero, plunging at once into his subject, "totell you about a magnificent scheme I have in my head. I am going tobe a Viking!"
If he had announced his intention of becoming Czar of all the Russiasthese boys would have taken it as a matter of course. They merelyopened their eyes and said "Weel?" Yaspard had rather expected tosurprise them, and was a little disconcerted by the way his startlingintention was received.
"I've told you heaps about Vikinger," he said; "you know just what Imean, eh?"
"Weren't they pirates?" Gibbie asked.
"No--at least they would be called that now, but it was different whenthey lived. There was no way of discovering new lands and getting lotsof riches, being great men and doing all sorts of grand things, exceptby becoming Vikings. It was the only way."
"But they killed people, and robbed, and made slaves. Everybody wasfrightened when a Viking ship hove in sight," said Lowrie, who wasrather reflective for his age and station.
"So they did; but it could not be helped. Besides, every one tried todo the same. And for the matter of that, don't people do the same now?Don't they fight still, and in a worse way? for the Vikinger only laidon man for man, but now any nation who invents the most murderousmachine for shooting can mow down armies of men miles off. As for thestealing--what is half the trade of the world but a kind of civilpicking of somebody's pocket--a 'doing' of some one. And slavery; bah!slaves enough in Britain while the pressgang can carry off any man itlikes. But there--what's the good of such talk? I'm not going to be aViking in a bad way, so you need not be afraid. It will all be foradventure, and glory and daring, and jolly good fun, I tell you."
"All right; we're game for whatever you please," answered the Harrisons.
After that Yaspard entered into some details of his scheme, andexplained portions in which he specially required their co-operation.They were soon as enamoured of the project as he, and eager to begin acareer which promised such scope for wild adventure. Some time slippedpast while the confabulation lasted, and the dusk of a Shetland summerevening--the poetic "dim"--had fallen upon Boden before the ladsseparated.
"I'll be over again to-morrow early," said Yaspard, as he pulled outfrom the shore; "mind you have some armour ready by the time I come."
The light breeze which had wafted him to Noostigard had fallen to acalm, therefore the sail was of no use; but a pair of oars in hismuscular hands soon carried the little _Osprey_ to her quay, and thereSigny was waiting.
"I've been longer than I meant to be, Mootie," he called out; "I amafraid it is too late to take you off."
"Never mind," she answered; "I don't want to go now. There has beensuch a disturbance in the house--such a terrific upset. It has made melaugh and cry--I hardly know which I ought to do now about it."
"An upset!" Yaspard exclaimed. "Praise the powers, as Mam Kirsty says.I'm glad the humdrum has had a break. What was it, Signy?"
"It was a letter."
"A letter! Was that all?"
"All!" exclaimed the girl; "you won't say a letter is a little 'all'when you hear what it did. The mailbag came across this afternoon whenwe were sitting at the Teng, never thinking!--and uncle got a letterfrom the young Laird of Lunda which made him furious. You know whathappens when Uncle Brues is angry."
"I know. I'm glad it does not happen often, poor old man! Well, whatnext?"
"He rampaged, and set Aunt Osla off crying. Then he began experimentswith that new chemical machine, and nearly blew up the house. Thewindows of his Den are smashed, and you never saw anything like themess there is in it--broken glass, books, methylated spirits,specimens, everything."
"Hurrah!" shouted Yaspard, cutting short Signy's story; "don't tell memore. Let's go and see."
He fastened up his boat, took his sister's hand, and ran quickly up thebrae to his home.
There indeed was a scene of devastation, as far as the scientist'sstudy was concerned. It looked as though a volcano had irrupted there:bookshelves were overturned, chairs and tables were sprawling legs inair, liquids were oozing in rainbow hues over manuscripts, odours ofthe most objectionable kind filled the air. A tame raven was hoppingamong the debris, with an eye to choice "remains" dropping from brokenjars; a strange-looking fish was gasping its last breath on the sofa,among broken fragments of its crystal tank. A huge grey cat wasstanding, with her back arched, on the mantelpiece--the only place shedeemed secure--surveying the scene, and ready for instant flight, orfight, if another explosion seemed imminent.
Pirate was lying at the open door, watching the movements of Thor (theraven), whose depredatory proclivities were well known to the dog.Thor, perfectly aware that a detective's eye was upon him, did notventure to abstract any of the wreckage, but assumed an air of carelesscuriosity as he hopped about among Mr. Adiesen's demoralised treasures.
Mr. Adiesen himself had disappeared. He had been stunned for a fewmoments by the explosion; but on recovering he only waited to realisethe ruin he had wrought, and then, seizing a favourite geologicalhammer, he raced away to the rocks to practise what stood him in placeof strong language.
No one had dared to attempt restoring order in the Den; the maids wouldnot have set foot within its door for their lives. Miss Adiesen wassoothing her nerves with tea, which Mam Kirsty was administering withloud and voluble speech.
"My! what a sight!" Yaspard exclaimed, as he looked into the study."And what a smell! It's enough to frighten the French," and he turnedinto the parlour, where his aunt was comforting her nerves after herfavourite manner, as I said.
"You've been having a high old time, auntie," he cried, laughing. "Inever saw such a rare turn-out in Moolapund before."
"You may say so," sobbed Aunt Osla. "It is a
'turn-out' and a 'highold' business. We were near going high enough, let alone your uncle,whose escape is nothing short of a miracle. I always said there wouldbe mischief done with those mixtures and glass tubes, and machines forheating dangerous coloured stuff. A rare turn-out! Yes; there is notmuch left in his room to turn out--it's all turned. But it isn't thespecimens and all that I mind so very much, after all, though that isbad enough, considering all the time and money he has spent on them.It is the--the cause of all this that--that breaks my heart. Oh dear!"and she broke out a-weeping again.
Viking Boys Page 2