boat used in fishing.

CHAPTER XII

I HEAR OF THE "RED FOX"

Before we had done cleaning out the round-house a breeze sprang up from
a little to the east of north. This blew off the rain and brought out
the sun.

And here I must explain; and the reader would do well to look at a map.
On the day when the fog fell and we ran down Alan's boat, we had been
running through the Little Minch. At dawn after the battle, we lay
becalmed to the west of the Isle of Canna, or between that and Isle
Eriska in the chain of the Long Island. Now to get from there to the
Linnhe Loch, the straight course was through the narrows of the Sound of
Mull. But the captain had no chart; he was afraid to trust his brig so
deep among the islands; and, the wind serving well, he preferred to go
by west of Tiree and come up under the southern coast of the great Isle
of Mull.

All day the breeze held in the same point, and rather freshened than
died down; and towards afternoon a swell began to set in from round the
outer Hebrides. Our course, to go round about the inner isles, was to
the west of south, so that at first we had this swell upon our beam, and
were much rolled about. But after nightfall, when we had turned the end
of Tiree and began to head more to the east, the sea came right astern.

Meanwhile, the early part of the day, before the swell came up, was very
pleasant; sailing, as we were, in a bright sunshine and with many
mountainous islands upon different sides. Alan and I sat in the
round-house with the doors open on each side (the wind being straight
astern), and smoked a pipe or two of the captain's fine tobacco. It was
at this time we heard each other's stories, which was the more
important to me, as I gained some knowledge of that wild Highland
country on which I was so soon to land. In those days, so close on the
back of the great rebellion, it was needful a man should know what he
was doing when he went upon the heather.

It was I that showed the example, telling him all my misfortune; which
he heard with great good-nature. Only, when I came to mention that good
friend of mine, Mr. Campbell the minister, Alan fired up and cried out
that he hated all that were of that name.

"Why," said I, "he is a man you should be proud to give your hand to."

"I know nothing I would help a Campbell to," says he, "unless it was a
leaden bullet. I would hunt all of that name like blackcocks. If I lay
dying I would crawl upon my kn