eturn
from the South Seas.

My father's shipmates, as he called them, were also fine stalwart
men, each of them competent to take the skipper's place, but each
willing to sacrifice anything for Sandy Ericson. My uncle Mansie
was mate, and sat forward in the bow. The stroke oar was usually
taken by Tom Hercus, a man of singular daring. Willie Slater was an
old whaler, who could stand any hardships with perfect indifference.
Then there was Jock Eunson, a good-humoured Orphir man, who, on many
a dark night, had kept his mates merry as they beat about in the
outer sea in search of ships; and Ringan Storlsen, of Finstown, who
had been at school with my father, and with whom he had had many an
adventure.

"Hurry along, my lads; there's Kinlay started," said my father,
seating himself in the stern sheets.

With that the ropes were cast off and the sail hoisted. Then the
boat was pushed off from the pier, and as she caught the light
breeze she glided slowly into the bay among the sailing shadows of
the summer clouds.

When we were out in the deep water I looked along the line of the
shore for the opposition boat; but I found she was already further
out than ourselves, looking like a pleasure yacht, with her newly
painted hull and clean white canvas--a contrast to the dingy brown
sail and the scratched and worn hull of the Curlew.

My uncle Mansie, who sat quite near to me, told me that the new
boat was called the St. Magnus--after the patron saint of
Orkney--and I noticed that he spoke very lightly of her as a
sailer. I asked him if he did not think she would beat us in this
race; but he assured me there was no fear of it, for that though
Kinlay had the start of us, yet he had not the advantage of a well
trained and disciplined crew, and his ropes were too new to run
free.

There was little chance of a race, however, in the calm bay, and my
uncle, not wishing Kinlay to see that we were taking any interest
in his movements, drew my attention away from the St. Magnus by
asking me some questions about my viking's stone. He said that, now
I had made a start in coming out in the boat, I might stand a
better chance of proving the virtue of my talisman, more especially
if I should be bold enough to come out on some dark, stormy night,
when there would be some danger. Then some of the other men,
hearing us, asked me to show them the magic stone, and it went
round the whole company for inspection.

By the time they had all h