risen pretty high, and was against us; but
we had four stout rowers, particularly a Macleod, a robust black-haired
fellow, half naked, and bare-headed, something between a wild Indian and
an English tar. Dr. Johnson sat high, on the stern, like a magnificent
Triton. Malcolm sung an Erse song, the chorus of which was '_Hatyin foam
foam eri_', with words of his own[486]. The tune resembled '_Owr the
muir amang the heather_'. The boatmen and Mr. M'Queen chorused, and all
went well. At length Malcolm himself took an oar, and rowed vigorously.
We sailed along the coast of Scalpa, a rugged island, about four miles
in length. Dr. Johnson proposed that he and I should buy it, and found a
good school, and an episcopal church, (Malcolm[487] said, he would come
to it,) and have a printing-press, where he would print all the Erse
that could be found. Here I was strongly struck with our long
projected scheme of visiting the Hebrides being realized[488]. I called
to him, 'We are contending with seas;' which I think were the words of
one of his letters to me[489]. 'Not much,' said he; and though the wind
made the sea lash considerably upon us, he was not discomposed. After we
were out of the shelter of Scalpa, and in the sound between it and
Rasay, which extended about a league, the wind made the sea very
rough[490]. I did not like it. JOHNSON. 'This now is the Atlantick. If I
should tell at a tea table in London, that I have crossed the Atlantick
in an open boat, how they'd shudder, and what a fool they'd think me to
expose myself to such danger?' He then repeated Horace's ode,--

'Otium Divos rogat in patenti
Prensus Aegaeo----[491]'

In the confusion and hurry of this boisterous sail, Dr. Johnson's spurs,
of which Joseph had charge, were carried over-board into the sea, and
lost[492]. This was the first misfortune that had befallen us. Dr.
Johnson was a little angry at first, observing that 'there was something
wild in letting a pair of spurs be carried into the sea out of a boat;'
but then he remarked, 'that, as Janes the naturalist had said upon
losing his pocket-book, it was rather an inconvenience than a loss.' He
told us, he now recollected that he dreamt the night before, that he put
his staff into a river, and chanced to let it go, and it was carried
down the stream and lost. 'So now you see, (said he,) that I have lost
my spurs; and this story is better than many of those which we have
concerning second sight