h broken and torn--though the shoulder bands were preserved,
as well as the collar--and we could see that the owner, whoever he
might have been, must have had a large and strong body, for the
coat was of great weight. Beside it there were what we took to be
the remains of a helmet, the ornaments upon which were of a yellow
and still untarnished metal, with a large crimson stone set in the
front.

Hercus pronounced the metal to be brass; but I never discovered
truly what it was, as I did not handle the fragments again, for the
reason that (as I happened to notice at the time) Tom Kinlay, who
kept silence regarding them, quietly put them in his pocket,
allowing us afterwards to suppose that we had left them behind us.
I had my suspicions, however, that the ornaments were of pure gold.

In addition to the coat of mail and the helmet, there were three
other objects that engaged our special regard. These were a broken
belt--made of link rings of bronze--the head of a battle axe, and a
long sword. The sword, which was in a scabbard embossed with fine
ornaments, had a richly-figured handle. It was a heavy weapon, and
none of us could draw it from its scabbard, for the rust that
encrusted it.

When all that it seemed possible to find had been collected, and
our digging brought nothing more to light, we opened our two seals'
skins--throwing away the blubber, which seemed of little worth to
us now that we had possessed ourselves of all this wealth--and
lifting the treasure into them we made them into slings, one of
which was carried by Tom Kinlay and Willie Hercus, the other by
Robbie Rosson and myself. We bore our burdens joyfully as far as
the other side of Skaill Bay, just managing to escape the tide that
was creeping up to the base of the cliffs.

The last rays of the sun were setting across the broad Atlantic
when we reached the top of the headland, and in the gray twilight
spreading over the sea we watched the fleet of whaling ships
sailing to the westward.

Chapter VIII. Dividing The Spoil.

Resting after the work of carrying our burden up the cliffs, we
stood for a space upon the heights above Row Head to watch the
sails of the fleet growing smaller as they approached the distant
line of the horizon. The leaden sea danced in the fresh breeze, and
the sky gradually lost its golden tints and assumed the clear, cold
hue of the northern twilight. To the southward, across the moor,
rose the dark mountains of Hoy