u.

Since my last letter to you I have walked nearly 160 miles. I was
terribly taken in with respect to distances--however, I managed to make
my way. I have been to Johnny Groat's House, which is about twenty-two
miles from this place. I had tolerably fine weather all the way, but
within two or three miles of that place a terrible storm arose; the next
day the country was covered with ice and snow. There is at present here
a kind of Greenland winter, colder almost than I ever knew the winter in
Russia. The streets are so covered with ice that it is dangerous to step
out. To-morrow D. and I pass over into Orkney, and we shall take the first
steamer to Aberdeen and Inverness, from whence I shall make the best of
my way to England. It is well that I have no farther to walk, for
walking now is almost impossible--the last twenty miles were terrible,
and the weather is worse than it was then. I was terribly deceived with
respect to steamboats. I was told that one passed over to Orkney every
day, and I have now been waiting two days, and there is not yet one. I
have had quite enough of Scotland. When I was at Johnny Groat's I got a
shell for dear Hen, which I hope I shall be able to bring or send to her.

I am glad to hear that you have got out the money on mortgage so
satisfactorily. One of the greatest blessings in this world is to be
independent. My spirits of late have been rather bad, owing principally
to my dear mother's death. I always knew that we should miss her. I
dreamt about her at Fort Augustus. Though I have walked so much I have
suffered very little from fatigue, and have got over the ground with
surprising facility, but I have not enjoyed the country so much as Wales.

I wish that you would order a hat for me against I come home; the one I
am wearing is very shabby, having been so frequently drenched with rain
and storm-beaten. I cannot say the exact day that I shall be home, but
you may be expecting me. The worst is that there is no depending on the
steamers, for there is scarcely any traffic in Scotland in winter. My
appetite of late has been very poorly, chiefly, I believe, owing to
badness of food and want of regular meals. Glad enough, I repeat, shall
I be to get home to you and Hen.

GEORGE BORROW.

LETTER XI.

KIRKWALL, ORKNEY,