Part 41 (1/2)
CHAPTER II.
There was a laughing devil in his sneer, That raised emotions both of rage and fear; And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, Hope withering fled--and Mercy sigh'd farewell.
_The Corsair, Canto I._
The ling or white fishery is the princ.i.p.al employment of the natives of Zetland, and was formerly that upon which the gentry chiefly depended for their income, and the poor for their subsistence. The fis.h.i.+ng season is therefore, like the harvest of an agricultural country, the busiest and most important, as well as the most animating, period of the year.
The fishermen of each district a.s.semble at particular stations, with their boats and crews, and erect upon the sh.o.r.e small huts, composed of s.h.i.+ngle and covered with turf, for their temporary lodging, and skeos, or drying-houses, for the fish; so that the lonely beach at once a.s.sumes the appearance of an Indian town. The banks to which they repair for the Haaf fis.h.i.+ng, are often many miles distant from the station where the fish is dried; so that they are always twenty or thirty hours absent, frequently longer; and under unfavourable circ.u.mstances of wind and tide, they remain at sea, with a very small stock of provisions, and in a boat of a construction which seems extremely slender, for two or three days, and are sometimes heard of no more. The departure of the fishers, therefore, on this occupation, has in it a character of danger and of suffering, which renders it dignified, and the anxiety of the females who remain on the beach, watching the departure of the lessening boat, or anxiously looking out for its return, gives pathos to the scene.[8]
The scene, therefore, was in busy and anxious animation, when the Udaller and his friends appeared on the beach. The various crews of about thirty boats, amounting each to from three to five or six men, were taking leave of their wives and female relatives, and jumping on board their long Norway skiffs, where their lines and tackle lay ready stowed. Magnus was not an idle spectator of the scene; he went from one place to another, enquiring into the state of their provisions for the voyage, and their preparations for the fis.h.i.+ng--now and then, with a rough Dutch or Norse oath, abusing them for blockheads, for going to sea with their boats indifferently found, but always ending by ordering from his own stores a gallon of gin, a lispund of meal, or some similar essential addition to their sea-stores. The hardy sailors, on receiving such favours, expressed their thanks in the brief gruff manner which their landlord best approved; but the women were more clamorous in their grat.i.tude, which Magnus was often obliged to silence by cursing all female tongues from Eve's downwards.
At length all were on board and ready, the sails were hoisted, the signal for departure given, the rowers began to pull, and all started from the sh.o.r.e, in strong emulation to get first to the fis.h.i.+ng ground, and to have their lines set before the rest; an exploit to which no little consequence was attached by the boat's crew who should be happy enough to perform it.
While they were yet within hearing of the sh.o.r.e, they chanted an ancient Norse ditty, appropriate to the occasion, of which Claud Halcro had executed the following literal translation:--
”Farewell, merry maidens, to song, and to laugh, For the brave lads of Westra are bound to the Haaf; And we must have labour, and hunger, and pain, Ere we dance with the maids of Dunrossness again.
”For now, in our trim boats of Noroway deal, We must dance on the waves, with the porpoise and seal; The breeze it shall pipe, so it pipe not too high, And the gull be our songstress whene'er she flits by.
”Sing on, my brave bird, while we follow, like thee, By bank, shoal, and quicksand, the swarms of the sea; And when twenty-score fishes are straining our line, Sing louder, brave bird, for their spoils shall be thine.
”We'll sing while we bait, and we'll sing when we haul, For the deeps of the Haaf have enough for us all: There is torsk for the gentle, and skate for the carle, And there's wealth for bold Magnus, the son of the earl.
”Huzza! my brave comrades, give way for the Haaf, We shall sooner come back to the dance and the laugh; For life without mirth is a lamp without oil; Then, mirth and long life to the bold Magnus Troil!”
The rude words of the song were soon drowned in the ripple of the waves, but the tune continued long to mingle with the sound of wind and sea, and the boats were like so many black specks on the surface of the ocean, diminis.h.i.+ng by degrees as they bore far and farther seaward; while the ear could distinguish touches of the human voice, almost drowned amid that of the elements.
The fishermen's wives looked their last after the parting sails, and were now departing slowly, with downcast and anxious looks, towards the huts in which they were to make arrangements for preparing and drying the fish, with which they hoped to see their husbands and friends return deeply laden. Here and there an old sibyl displayed the superior importance of her experience, by predicting, from the appearance of the atmosphere, that the wind would be fair or foul, while others recommended a vow to the Kirk of St. Ninian's for the safety of their men and boats, (an ancient Catholic superst.i.tion, not yet wholly abolished,) and others, but in a low and timorous tone, regretted to their companions, that Norna of Fitful-head had been suffered to depart in discontent that morning from Burgh-Westra, ”and, of all days in the year, that they suld have contrived to give her displeasure on the first day of the white fis.h.i.+ng!”
The gentry, guests of Magnus Troil, having whiled away as much time as could be so disposed of, in viewing the little armament set sail, and in conversing with the poor women who had seen their friends embark in it, began now to separate into various groups and parties, which strolled in different directions, as fancy led them, to enjoy what may be called the clair-obscure of a Zetland summer day, which, though without the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne that cheers other countries during the fine season, has a mild and pleasing character of its own, that softens while it saddens landscapes, which, in their own lonely, bare, and monotonous tone, have something in them stern as well as barren.
In one of the loneliest recesses of the coast, where a deep indenture of the rocks gave the tide access to the cavern, or, as it is called, the _Helyer_, of Swartaster, Minna Troil was walking with Captain Cleveland.
They had probably chosen that walk, as being little liable to interruption from others; for, as the force of the tide rendered the place unfit either for fis.h.i.+ng or sailing, so it was not the ordinary resort of walkers, on account of its being the supposed habitation of a Mermaid, a race which Norwegian superst.i.tion invests with magical, as well as mischievous qualities. Here, therefore, Minna wandered with her lover.
A small spot of milk-white sand, that stretched beneath one of the precipices which walled in the creek on either side, afforded them s.p.a.ce for a dry, firm, and pleasant walk of about an hundred yards, terminated at one extremity by a dark stretch of the bay, which, scarce touched by the wind, seemed almost as smooth as gla.s.s, and which was seen from between two lofty rocks, the jaws of the creek, or indenture, that approached each other above, as if they wished to meet over the dark tide that separated them. The other end of their promenade was closed by a lofty and almost unscaleable precipice, the abode of hundreds of sea-fowl of different kinds, in the bottom of which the huge helyer, or sea-cave, itself yawned, as if for the purpose of swallowing up the advancing tide, which it seemed to receive into an abyss of immeasurable depth and extent. The entrance to this dismal cavern consisted not in a single arch, as usual, but was divided into two, by a huge pillar of natural rock, which, rising out of the sea, and extending to the top of the cavern, seemed to lend its support to the roof, and thus formed a double portal to the helyer, on which the fishermen and peasants had bestowed the rude name of the Devil's Nostrils. In this wild scene, lonely and undisturbed but by the clang of the sea-fowl, Cleveland had already met with Minna Troil more than once; for with her it was a favourite walk, as the objects which it presented agreed peculiarly with the love of the wild, the melancholy, and the wonderful. But now the conversation in which she was earnestly engaged, was such as entirely to withdraw her attention, as well as that of her companion, from the scenery around them.
”You cannot deny it,” she said; ”you have given way to feelings respecting this young man, which indicate prejudice and violence,--the prejudice unmerited, as far as you are concerned at least, and the violence equally imprudent and unjustifiable.”
”I should have thought,” replied Cleveland, ”that the service I rendered him yesterday might have freed me from such a charge. I do not talk of my own risk, for I have lived in danger, and love it; it is not every one, however, would have ventured so near the furious animal to save one with whom they had no connexion.”
”It is not every one, indeed, who could have saved him,” answered Minna, gravely; ”but every one who has courage and generosity would have attempted it. The giddy-brained Claud Halcro would have done as much as you, had his strength been equal to his courage,--my father would have done as much, though having such just cause of resentment against the young man, for his vain and braggart abuse of our hospitality. Do not, therefore, boast of your exploit too much, my good friend, lest you should make me think that it required too great an effort. I know you love not Mordaunt Mertoun, though you exposed your own life to save his.”
”Will you allow nothing, then,” said Cleveland, ”for the long misery I was made to endure from the common and prevailing report, that this beardless bird-hunter stood betwixt me and what I on earth coveted most--the affections of Minna Troil?”
He spoke in a tone at once impa.s.sioned and insinuating, and his whole language and manner seemed to express a grace and elegance, which formed the most striking contrast with the speech and gesture of the unpolished seaman, which he usually affected or exhibited. But his apology was unsatisfactory to Minna.
”You have known,” she said, ”perhaps too soon, and too well, how little you had to fear,--if you indeed feared,--that Mertoun, or any other, had interest with Minna Troil.--Nay, truce to thanks and protestations; I would accept it as the best proof of grat.i.tude, that you would be reconciled with this youth, or at least avoid every quarrel with him.”