fe; and
I have heard it said that he had saved more ships from destruction
than any other man in Orkney or Shetland. If you had asked anyone
in Stromness, What man in all Pomona could least be spared? the
reply would have been given, "Sandy Ericson, the pilot."

I need not say that for these reasons I was proud of my brave
father. But it was not from him I learned these things, for he
would never say a word in his own praise, and, had I not heard of
his hardy bravery from other lips, he might have been to me no more
than the gentle, affectionate parent that he ever was.

We left the four men who were the crew of the Curlew to look after
the boat, while Uncle Mansie and father came into the house to
dinner.

When, being the youngest of the family, I had said grace and we
were supping our brose, Uncle Mansie looked over to me and asked:
"Well, Hal, are you coming out in the Curlew with us to see the
whaling ships away?"

I replied in true Orkney fashion by asking another question:

"How far are you to take them?"

Mansie turned to father, who said: "Och, we'll take them as far as
the Braga Rock anyway. If you'll come wi' us, Hal, we'll stow you
snugly in the bow o' the Curlew, and you'll get a fine sail. What's
an Orkney lad, whatever, if he's not to have a taste o' the dangers
o' the sea? There's more for him to do than daunder about the
hillside with a trout wand over his shoulder."

"'Deed, I dinna ken about that, father," said my mother, helping me
to a plateful of fried sillocks. "If it's danger you're wantin' the
laddie to seek, he's seen o'er many dangers already, I'm thinking.
It's nearly drowned he was, only a week ago, in the Barra Flow,
swimming out after a dog that wasna worth the saving; and I have
seen him mysel' dangling over the Breckness cliffs, like a spider,
at the end of a rope I would not have trusted to hang Lucky
Drever's cat with! Danger, forsooth! the laddie is always in
danger."

It was like my mother to object to my taking to the sea, even for
the pleasure of a sail. Although she well knew that it was the only
life open to an Orkney lad, yet she was ever anxious to delay its
beginning, and at these words from her my father did not urge me
further, but quietly watched me as I rose from the table and took
from a rack over the window a small harpoon, the sharp point of
which I tested by pressing it against my thumb.

"Oh, there's a lad!" exclaimed Jessie. "Off to the sealing when he
m