AMONG THE HEBRIDES

Evening Star, Issue 19589, 22 June 1927, Page 10

AMONG THE HEBRIDES

ROMANCE AND HISTORY On tho western shore of Skyo is the lonely. Bay of Tallisker, surrounded by great sea cliffs. There are few places m Skyo..so wild and so .magnificent. When Johnson and iioswcll visited the Hebrides they were entertained by Colonel John MacLeod, of Tallisker, for two nights. The old piano tree beneath which they sat still flourishes in the well-kept garden, although a great limb has been wrenched from it by the gale of January, which deposited seaweed on the hill top above tho bay, I,oooft above tho sea. Dr Johnson writes of Tallisker: “It is the place, beyond all that I have seen, from which the gay and tho jovial seem utterly excluded; and where tho hermit iniglit expect to grow old in meditation, without possibility of dis turbance or interruption.” Dub in April the clouds that drift on the dun wind from Atlantic plains are less thick than in autumn, when Johnson saw Slryc. Sooner or later the sum shines out, and if it follows a time of rain the innumerable waterfalls that throw themselves impetuously over tho grim sea' cliffs are a source of. constant joy to the eye Even while tho rain continues and tho mist reaches almost to the level of the sullen sea tho waterfalls maintain their sped. From the mist-capped each ycastly cascade emerges. Gently, in grey, waving streamers, the waters seem to fall. ■ At times tho sea wind strikes them, and they sway rythmically. At times they arc caught up by some eager gust and are swept aside so swiftly that they appear to dissolve into the grey mist that drifts silently around them. Beneath the waterfalls tho waves break. Purple sandpipers still feed on the rocks at low tide.. In May they will steer northward to the tundra of Spitsbergen, where they nest; now they aro so tamo that, by walking quietly, one can approach within a few feet of them as they feed where clusters of limpets cling, in orderly ranks, to the smooth black rocks. Where the cliffs lean toward the sun there is already a profusion of spring blooms, and tho April noons are heavy with their scent. On the damp ledges the blossoms of tho primrose are. largo and numerous. In little pockets on the bare rock tho buds of tho sea-thrift show a deep, glorious crimson. In damp niches tho rose-root is already in blossom, and on grassy slopes at tho cliff foot fields of white blossom of the scurvy-grass scent the air. The sea campion is flowering, and there are fields of bine down to tbo tide mark where the violets blossom. Thirtv-fivo miles across the sea the Outer ifcbridcs rise. Upon Hecla of South'Uist a cloud rests lightly above the small hollow, in tho hillside where Prince Charles Edward, after the failure of the “forty-five,” was hidden by Clanranald before Flora Macdonald convoyed him across the spa to Skyo in the gniso of'her maid. Ethereal in the „ distance is . Eriska,. another isle

which will always bo associated with tho unfortunate prince, for hero he set foot for tho first time on British soil after his departure from France on his ill-fated attempt to seize the throne of his ancestors.

The April weather is nowhere more fickle than on the fringes of the Atlantic. The morning may be on©' of uninterrupted sunshine, the sea blue and serene, and the hills clear, but at noon showers commence to fall out over the Hebrid Isles. In a long chain they appear mysteriously. One clouds tho hills of South Uist, another drenches tho sister isle of Barra, a third descends upon the lonely Isle of Hhum and causes flic mist to drop low upon its peaks. Idly, before the breeze, tho grey showers drift. A few feet above the surface of the sea a small company of kittiwakes aro steering north, perhaps towards some distant headland of Spitzbcrgcn, a full 1,500 miles to the north. Occasionally a solan passes by on swift wing, but so early in the season the mackerel and herring do not show in coastal waters, so the solan goose must hunt the sons out of sight of land. Across the black, merciless cliffs ravens soar, and, on top of tho highest cliff, a flood of joyous music is faintly heard against tho sea breeze. The singer is a skylark—Mary’s linnet, as it is called in the Celtic west—and is seen as a black speck at a great height. It is singing not over the land but above tho sea, and as it floats above the abyss mingles its notes with the deep boom of the surf. Far below great black-backed gulls pass and repass. They often prey upon skylarks, but are heedless, cr perhaps unaware, of the small songster so far above tlicm. Skylark and raven, gannet, gull, and buzzard make a strange company, but one,and all they greet the April sun with gladness.— ‘The Times.’