The Pirate
The poet bowed to the beautiful young woman, with the devotion of a poet
and the gallantry of a traveller, and having, in a whisper, reminded her
that she was in no way responsible for the nonsense he was about to
speak, he paused, looked upward, simpered as if he had caught a sudden
idea, and at length set off in the following verses:
CLAUD HALCRO.
"Mother doubtful, Mother dread--
Dweller of the Fitful-head,
Well thou know'st it is thy task
To tell what beauty will not ask;--
Then steep thy words in wine and milk,
And weave a doom of gold and silk,--
For we would know, shall Brenda prove
In love, and happy in her love?"
The prophetess replied almost immediately from behind her curtain:--
NORNA.
"Untouched by love, the maiden's breast
Is like the snow on Rona's crest,
High seated in the middle sky,
In bright and barren purity;
But by the sunbeam gently kiss'd,
Scarce by the gazing eye 'tis miss'd,
Ere down the lonely valley stealing,
Fresh grass and growth its course revealing,
It cheers the flock, revives the flower,
And decks some happy shepherd's bower."
"A comfortable doctrine, and most justly spoken," said the Udaller,
seizing the blushing Brenda, as she was endeavouring to escape--"Never
think shame for the matter, my girl. To be the mistress of some honest
man's house, and the means of maintaining some old Norse name, making
neighbours happy, the poor easy, and relieving strangers, is the most
creditable lot a young woman can look to, and I heartily wish it to all
here.--Come, who speaks next?--good husbands are going--Maddie
Groatsettar--my pretty Clara, come and have your share."
The Lady Glowrowrum shook her head, and "could not," she said,
"altogether approve"----
"Enough said--enough said," replied Magnus; "no compulsion; but the play
shall go on till we are tired of it. Here, Minna--I have got you at
command. Stand forth, my girl--there are plenty of things to be ashamed
of besides old-fashioned and innocent pleasantry.--Come, I will speak
for you myself--though I am not sure I can remember rhyme enough for
it."
There was a slight colour which passed rapidly over Minna's face, but
she instantly regained her composure, and stood erect by her father, as
one superior to any little jest to which her situation might give rise.
Her father, after some rubbing of his brow, and other mechanical efforts
to assist his memory, at length recovered verse sufficient to put the
following query, though in less gallant strains than those of Halcro:--
MAGNUS TROIL.
"Mother, speak, and do not tarry,
Here's a maiden fain would marry.
Shall she marry, ay or not?
If she marry, what's her lot?"
A deep sigh was uttered within the tabernacle of the soothsayer, as if
she compassionated the subject of the doom which she was obliged to
pronounce. She then, as usual, returned her response:--
NORNA.
"Untouch'd by love, the maiden's breast
Is like the snow on Rona's crest;
So pure, so free from earthly dye,
It seems, whilst leaning on the sky,
Part of the heaven to which 'tis nigh;
But passion, like the wild March rain,
May soil the wreath with many a stain.
We gaze--the lovely vision's gone--
A torrent fills the bed of stone,
That, hurrying to destruction's shock,
Leaps headlong from the lofty rock."
The Udaller heard this reply with high resentment. "By the bones of the
Martyr," he said, his bold visage becoming suddenly ruddy, "this is an
abuse of courtesy! and, were it any but yourself that had classed my
daughter's name and the word destruction together, they had better have
left the word unspoken. But come forth of the tent, thou old
galdragon,"[5] he added, with a smile--"I should have known that thou
canst not long joy in any thing that smacks of mirth, God help thee!"
His summons received no answer; and, after waiting a moment, he again
addressed her--"Nay, never be sullen with me, kinswoman, though I did
speak a hasty word--thou knowest I bear malice to no one, least of all
to thee--so come forth, and let us shake hands.--Thou mightst have
foretold the wreck of my ship and boats, or a bad herring-fishery, and I
should have said never a word; but Minna or Brenda, you know, are things
which touch me nearer. But come out, shake hands, and there let there be
an end on't."
Norna returned no answer whatever to his repeated invocations, and the
company began to look upon each other with some surprise, when the
Udaller, raising the skin which covered the entrance of the tent,
discovered that the interior was empty. The wonder was now general, and
not unmixed with fear; for it seemed impossible that Norna could have,
in any manner, escaped from the tabernacle in which she was enclosed,
without having been discovered by the company. Gone, however, she was,
and the Udaller, after a moment's consideration, dropt the skin-curtain
again over the entrance of the tent.
"My friends," he said, with a cheerful countenance, "we have long known
my kinswoman, and that her ways are not like those of the ordinary folks
of this world. But she means well by Hialtland, and hath the love of a
sister for me, and for my house; and no guest of mine needs either to
fear evil, or to take offence, at her hand. I have little doubt she will
be with us at dinner-time."
"Now, Heaven forbid!" said Mrs. Baby Yellowley--"for, my gude Leddy
Glowrowrum, to tell your leddyship the truth, I likena cummers that can
come and gae like a glance of the sun, or the whisk of a whirlwind."
"Speak lower, speak lower," said the Lady Glowrowrum, "and be thankful
that yon carlin hasna ta'en the house-side away wi' her. The like of her
have played warse pranks, and so has she hersell, unless she is the
sairer lied on."
Similar murmurs ran through the rest of the company, until the Udaller
uplifted his stentorian and imperative voice to put them to silence, and
invited, or rather commanded, the attendance of his guests to behold the
boats set off for the _haaf_ or deep-sea fishing.
"The wind has been high since sunrise," he said, "and had kept the boats
in the bay; but now it was favourable, and they would sail
immediately."
This sudden alteration of the weather occasioned sundry nods and winks
amongst the guests, who were not indisposed to connect it with Norna's
sudden disappearance; but without giving vent to observations which
could not but be disagreeable to their host, they followed his stately
step to the shore, as the herd of deer follows the leading stag, with
all manner of respectful observance.[6](_a_)[7]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The garland is an artificial coronet, composed of ribbons by those
young women who take an interest in a whaling vessel or her crew: it is
always displayed from the rigging, and preserved with great care during
the voyage.
[2] The best oil exudes from the jaw-bones of the whale, which, for the
purpose of collecting it, are suspended to the masts of the vessel.
[3] There is established among whalers a sort of telegraphic signal, in
which a certain number of motions, made with a broom, express to any
other vessel the number of fish which they have caught.
[4] The Admiral of the Spanish Armada was wrecked on the Fair Isle,
half-way betwixt the Orkney and Zetland Archipelago. The Duke of Medina
Sidonia landed, with some of his people, and pillaged the islanders of
their winter stores. These strangers are remembered as having remained
on the island by force, and on bad terms with the inhabitants, till
spring returned, when they effected their escape.
[5] _Galdra-Kinna_--the Norse for a sorceress.
[6] Note I.--Fortune-telling Rhymes.
[7] See Editor's Notes at the end of the Volume. Wherever a similar
reference occurs, the reader will understand that the same direction
applies.
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 principal 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 fishing 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 assemble at particular stations, with
their boats and crews, and erect upon the shore small huts, composed of
shingle and covered with turf, for their temporary lodging, and skeos,
or drying-houses, for the fish; so that the lonely beach at once assumes
the appearance of an Indian town. The banks to which they repair for the
Haaf fishing, 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 circumstances 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 fishing--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
gratitude, 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 shore, in strong emulation to get first to the fishing 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 shore, 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,