Thursday, July 23.—We had quite a gale this morning. As it was raging two of the men, Sam Swain and Bob Green, were passing our house and noticed some tussock had been blown off the roof. They at once stopped and mended the place. Such damage, if not immediately made good, may easily end in half the roof being blown off. They came in afterwards to a breakfast of coffee and fish fried in batter. When we met them later in the day they greeted us with smiling faces, evidently mindful of the kind deed they had done. This afternoon Mrs. Sam Swain brought us some craw-fish, and told Ellen her husband said she must cook the fish the way he had it at breakfast. The high gale has continued all day, but the people say the winds are nothing to what they used to be.

Monday, July 27.—We have had a holiday to-day, as Mr. Keytel asked Graham to go with him and Repetto up the mountain in search of eaglets, which he wants for specimens. Following the practice of the island women, I thought I would take them out some tea in our new Thermos bottle. So Ellen and I started off in spite of a drizzling rain. The wind was blowing in our faces all the way. As we approached Bugsby Hole we could hear shouting and the barking of dogs, but could see no one. We took shelter under a high rock, and after waiting some time, as there seemed no hope of its clearing, went home again.

It is a great boon having plenty of books as we now have; not that we have ever been very short of them, but now we have greater choice.

Wednesday, July 29.—We have been for a walk along the shore this afternoon looking for "sea-beans." These are the seed of a South American tree, the Caesalpinia Bonduc, and are often washed up on the shore. Mr. Keytel picked up one of a different species, the Pusaetha scaredens, the other day, in size about two inches across, the largest that has been found here. The same seeds have been picked up on the east coast of Africa. This is interesting as showing the direction of the current.

Friday, July 3l.—On Wednesday we had lantern views of the Victoria Falls, which particularly interested us, as we had just been reading Livingstone's account of them.

Wednesday, August 5.—Yesterday and to-day some of the men were rat-hunting at the potato patches. This hunting means considerable labour, as the nests are often in the walls, parts of which have to be pulled down and built up again. The mode of working is this. A dog is sent along the wall. If it scents a rat the hunters gather round and remove the stones from around the spot, then block up with turf all holes in the broken wall. This done, they uncover the nest, when the rats rush out and are caught by the dogs, one rarely escapes. Sometimes in winter seven or eight full-grown rats are found in the same nest.

The new-comers, I am glad to say, have sown wheat, mealies and Kaffir corn. I fear they are feeling the restricted food, as they must now be living chiefly on fish and potatoes. Henry Green has also sown some wheat, and we are hoping others will do the same next year. Repetto has been taking out manure to his potato patches. He used three carts and three yoke of oxen. His two boys, of eight and six, each drove a cart, running by the oxen whip in hand. The elder one, Arthur, can guide them well; Willie was only learning, but enjoyed himself immensely.

Monday, August 10.—Graham went straight from school to the potato patches where the men were rat-hunting, and did not get home till dark. I believe one hundred and fifty rats were caught. He and Mr. Keytel were invited into Henry Green's hut, where his daughter and Mrs. Sam Swain did the honours.

Just after supper Mrs. Lavarello brought in Mrs. Joe Glass, one of the new-comers. The Joe Glasses are giving a party this evening in honour of the first birthday of their boy, and the mother, who is very young, still in her "teens," came to ask if we would go to it. She looked most elegant in a blue blouse and with a blue bow in her hair which was done in the latest style. She was once a pupil-teacher and is now teaching her sisters' children, who, we hear, are getting on well.

Tuesday, August 11.—We went to the party last night. The host and hostess did their part well. After about an hour we moved to go, but were specially asked to stay for supper. A table was then placed in the middle of the room with a nice white cover on it, and tea and plates of cake were brought in. Three chairs were drawn up and I and Ellen were asked to take them. Every one else was ranged round the room. It was a little formidable.

Wednesday, August 19.—We went down this afternoon to try our hand at fishing. It was too rough to catch anything, but I practised throwing out the line. The way to do it is to make fast one end, then holding the other, on which is the bait and stone, about a yard up, to rapidly whirl in round and round and then let go with a jerk. A good throw will carry the rest of the line, which is lying in a coil, forty or fifty yards.

Friday, August 21.—We have spent the best part of four hours taking the harmonium to pieces and putting it together again. A note had gone wrong, causing the greatest discord; we therefore had to do something. The parts to be unscrewed seemed numberless, but happily we were able to find out what was causing the mischief and to put it right. A small peg had got out of its place. It was worth while taking the instrument to pieces if only to clear away the accumulation of dust. Yet there was one incident which threatened to wreck everything. A board with a line of little upright pegs was removed, which Graham, without a thought that the pegs were not fixtures, turned upside down, when out fell the greater part of them. To our consternation we found each peg had its own hole and that there was nothing to show which it was. It took us hours to get them fitted.

Saturday, August 29.—It is now over five months since we have had communication with the outer world. Happily, the every-day duties and interests make the weeks pass quickly. Some families have run short of potatoes, partly on account of disease and partly on account of the increased population. The Repettos are among the number. It being their week to serve us, I told Mrs. Repetto this morning she must not bring us any, but she brought them all the same. They killed an ox yesterday, and brought such a huge piece of beef that we had to return some of it. He said, with tears in his eyes, perhaps it would be their last time of serving us.

We fear the new-comers will have a bad influence on old and young as regards morals. One of the men and two of the wives are terrible swearers. Some of the children are already singing bad songs learnt from them.

Tuesday, September 1.—This evening we heard that two whales were to be seen within the kelp. We went on to the cliffs to look and could clearly see, about a quarter of a mile away, an old one playing with its calf.

Andrew Swain and his wife spent the evening with us. I taught her a new pattern in knitting, a new heel, and how to cast on double.

Friday, September 4.—Yesterday after the choir practice Mrs. Repetto and Mary went down to fish. Before long I saw them returning, and when they got near noticed Mary had her head bound up. It seems she had fallen on the wet rocks and cut her head near the right temple. Her mother wrapped her pinafore round the place, but could do no more, as such sights make her ill. They came in here. It was difficult at first to see what damage had been done, as the cut had bled freely and the hair was clotted with blood. We bathed the place and then made her lie down on Ellen's bed, where she fell asleep. Happily, it turned out not to be such a bad cut as it at first appeared to be. Mrs. Repetto stayed and talked about her children. She told us Willie will never go to bed unless she says, "Good-night, dear." "Good-night, Willie," will not do. He comes back and throws his arms round her neck and says, "Say 'dear.'" Sometimes to teaze him she says the other words. The night of the dance when they came back with the children it was 12 o'clock, but little Joe, though very sleepy, would not go to bed until he had said his prayers. So many of the children get no help from their parents in doing right. Truthfulness is a great difficulty with them. Quite small children will tell you a lie without so much as a blink of the eye. I think some are certainly more truthful than they were; but children go through such phases that it is not easy to tell whether the habit of truthfulness has been formed.

Saturday, September 5.—A ship was sighted early this morning, which proved to be a French sealer bound for Kerguelen Island. It put out a boat, but not knowing where the settlement was, made for the Hardies. A boat went off from here and then the ship came round. It has been rather a miserable day, for rain has been falling nearly all the time. Two boats went out in the afternoon with meat and potatoes, which had been asked for. The Captain was not willing to give anything but spirits in exchange. The boat which went off in the morning and which contained some of the new-comers got three bags of biscuits and soap, which ought really to have been divided amongst "All Hands." It was very disappointing for the others, who had gone out to the ship in a steady downpour.

The young Sam Swains had a little son born yesterday. This makes our number ninety-nine. I went to-day to inquire and found the mother knitting. Mrs. Repetto was nursing the baby, which looked beautifully clean in a pretty gown and a little print capie on his head.

Thursday, September l0.—A mild form of mumps is prevalent among the younger children. The Andrew Hagans have had to leave the house of his step-mother, old Eliza Hagan. Susan Hagan could stand the life there no longer. It seems that Mrs. James Hagan is out nearly all day, neglects her children, and is altogether impossible to live with. It is hard that they should have to turn out for newcomers, the more so as Andrew is the elder brother and has been living in the house many years. What led to the final breach was James saying to Susan that her husband had stolen his step-mother's sheep and that there would be blood and slaughter. This alarmed the Andrew Hagans so much that they made up their minds to leave next day, and did so. The old step-mother is staying on, as it is her house, but I fear she will have an ill time of it, for the children are unmanageable and she will often be left alone with them.

Friday, September 11.—This morning as we were getting up there was a loud knock at the door. Bill Rogers had come to ask us to go at once to his boy Arthur, who was very ill. He had been waiting until he saw the smoke coming from our chimney, and looked, poor fellow, very much upset. We hurried on our things and were off in about three minutes. He was standing at his door looking for us. The room was full of men. Arthur was on the sofa in the sitting-room and propped up with pillows. He was breathing with the greatest difficulty, could not swallow, and the saliva was running out of his mouth. Graham soon cleared the room by taking the men outside. The mother and I set to and fomented the boy's throat. In a short time I saw this was giving relief, as he was beginning to swallow and to breathe more easily. The poor father was in tears. Later on we fomented again, after which he was able to speak. This evening he seems going on nicely. He had been suffering from mumps, and we think he must have caught cold.

I went to see Mrs. Sam Swain, who has the baby-boy, and heard an amusing story of her sharp little child of three. She did not want to come to school this morning, but her god-mother, Charlotte Swain, dressed her and made her come. When school was over and Charlotte was going out with her, she said, "Mummish, you got the best of me this morning."

Thursday, September 17.—Early this morning Graham went off by boat with Mr. Keytel and Repetto to visit Freshwater Cave to get specimens of night-birds and their eggs. Mr. Keytel remained in charge of the boat while Graham and Repetto went into the cave, which was about one hundred yards in length. At the far end was a pebbly beach, where the birds were supposed to be. Between it and the mouth was water, which had to be passed. Repetto climbed from ledge to ledge along one side of the cave. Graham preferred to wade and swim through the water. They saw about twelve night-birds and found seven eggs. Mr. Keytel took a photograph of them standing at the cave's mouth.



I spent the day visiting the different invalids. I daily visit Arthur Rogers, who is still on the couch and whose face remains much swollen, but now he is feeling better he is all smiles. I think the mumps are going the round of the settlement, though with some the complaint only shows itself in a bad headache and a general feeling of illness.

This evening Andrew Hagan and his wife have been in, Graham having asked them to come, as he wanted to hear from them why they had left their house. What they said agreed with what I have already related. He has also asked James Hagan, and, as he has not come, has been to see him more than once, but has not been able to find him at home.

Thursday, September 24.—The men have finished planting their potatoes; of which the early ones will be ready for digging in November. Until then the people will be very short of suitable food. They have no flour and are living a good deal on young eaglets, which are too rich to eat without potatoes.

Many persons have been suffering from ophthalmia. One of the babies from the Cape came with it. We strongly recommend those who have had it in their houses to whitewash their rooms, and we have offered what lime we can spare.

I must not forget to mention a diverting trade letter received from an enterprising Liverpool firm. It is addressed to the Collector of Customs, Tristan d'Acunha, and the following is one of its paragraphs—

"If not asking too much, we should be glad if you will send us the names of any Traders and General Storekeepers in Tristan d'Acunha who would be interested in our catalogues, which we could forward them by mail direct. We believe our goods are largely imported to Tristan d'Acunha, and would be greatly obliged if you could comply with our request, as we find the names furnished by directories are not altogether satisfactory."



CHAPTER XXXI

Saturday, September 26.—The weeks are flying fast. In November we shall begin packing, so as to be ready in case a ship should call for us. We shall leave the furniture to be put by for any future clergyman.

Yesterday we had again to take the harmonium to pieces, as another note had gone wrong. We could find nothing amiss except that the note squeaked when pressed; it, however, came all right after the board had been placed near the fire.

To-day old Eliza Hagan had tea with us. She is now without tea and lives mostly on eggs. She looked so aged and talked but little, just answering us. I think she was afraid of being asked about the Jim Hagans, who live with her, but we carefully avoided that subject. A few days ago Graham had a straight talk with Mrs. James Hagan and Will Swain, at the house of whose mother, Susan Swain, she spends most of her time. We shall bring home, all being well, a number of photographs. Mr. Keytel very kindly always gives us copies of those he has taken.

Monday, September 28.—Our population is now one hundred, Mrs. Bob Glass having had a son yesterday. I saw her for a few minutes this morning. There are many other invalids, for several are suffering from the breaking out of sores. Alfred has had them very badly on his face and has been really ill. They break out on the head, face, arms and legs, and, in fact, all over the body, causing those who are suffering from them to feel very poorly. They are certainly contagious, and attack men, women and children, apparently they were brought by one of the children from the Cape.

On Saturday thirteen of the men went by boat to Sandy Point. They took their dogs, and coming back, having no room for them in the boats owing to the number of eggs, sent them home overland. The old ones reached home about as soon as their masters. The next day I happened to see Bill Rogers, who told me his young collie (the best-looking dog on the island) had not returned. He seemed very upset about it, and said he should go off in search of it. Happily, in the afternoon when he got home from service he found it had returned. It was so footsore that its feet had to be bound up. When we first arrived there was a very poor set of dogs. But later Sam Swain was sent a half collie, and now there is a very much better stamp of dog. These new dogs have quite won their way with the people, who think much more of them and allow them in the house. They have gentle, attractive ways, very much like those of our Rob.

Saturday, October 3.—I am daily dressing Alfred's face with boracic ointment, which I think is doing good. Poor Ben was taken ill again last night with fits. It is nearly a year since he had any. He has got under bad influence and has vowed he will never go to church again. Some of the other men have also almost given up coming, whereas at one time they came fairly regularly.

Wednesday, October 7.—A ship was sighted soon after five this morning. Mr. Keytel and some of the men went off to it; but many of the others were on the mountains hunting for eggs. It was an American sealer and came close in. We got a barrel of flour for five lambs. The captain had come in for potatoes, but, of course, could not get any. He said another of their sealers, which had started four days earlier than he had, was going to call, and that both were bound for Gough Island.

Thursday, October 8.—An expedition was planned yesterday by Graham, Mr. Keytel and Repetto were to go on the mountain today in search of Molly's eggs. They arranged to start between two and three. Graham got up at two, and when Repetto came to call him was dressed and just going to have breakfast. I spent part of the morning photographing, and took the Henry Green family sitting in front of their house. I found Mrs. Green so hard up for cotton that she was unravelling a piece of boat canvas. The mountaineers returned in the early evening. Graham much enjoyed the day, and thinks they must have walked thirty miles. Going up they watched the sealer cautiously sailing round Inaccessible. They also got a view of the Peak, which had a little snow on it. Mr. Keytel photographed the Mollyhawk on its nest.



Saturday, October 10.—There was a south-east wind blowing last night. This is a wind likely to do damage, so Graham went out to have a look round and saw something sticking out from the roof. There being no lights in the houses he concluded every one was in bed, and so got the ladder and mounted on to the roof, where he found a piece of wood that holds the lead down had got loose. This afternoon, meeting several men at Mr. Keytel's, he told them how he had fastened the loose board, when they said, "You should have called 'Sail, ho!'; you would have had every one out of their beds pretty quick."

Tuesday, October 13.—We were awakened by a cry of "Sail, ho!" I got up, added postscripts to my letters, and retired to bed again. The men started off but seeing the ship was not heading this way they came back.

Mrs. H. Green is getting quite brisk. I have called once or twice on Sunday morning and taken her to church. The women are not coming very well to their meeting; on an average there are only eight or nine, of whom Charlotte Swain is always one. She loves a joke. I sometimes have a race to get to the meeting first, and one day heard great laughter from her house and saw heads at the window; her people were much enjoying the fun.

Tuesday, October 20.—We have dispatched our letters at last. The ship was a Norwegian bound for Adelaide. The captain was making his first voyage as such. He gave Mr. Keytel some books, two of which, Keswick Week and Side-lights of the Bible, have been passed on to us. I fear a captain must find our men rather a worry. They go to him with so many requests. Only think, after you imagine the trading has been done, of having sixteen men, one after the other, each wanting something in exchange for a bottle of milk or a dozen eggs. We met the returning boats, and Mr. Keytel came and sat down on the shingle and told us how the day had gone and what a kind captain they had met with.

Wednesday, October 21.—We heard the first thing this morning a small vessel was in sight coming from the east. As it was wet and the sea was "making up," the men did not go out to her.

Thursday, October 22.—A barque sighted far out, as usual, going east.

Friday, October 23.—A small vessel sighted this evening.



CHAPTER XXXII

Saturday, October 24.—We have had an unusually exciting day. The small vessel that was sighted yesterday evening and which the people felt sure was an American whaler was seen again this morning. As it was making for the island the men did not hurry to go out. At last three boats went off. It was rather breezy. When the first boat reached the ship, to our surprise it at once began to return, and the other two did not go on. Soon after two o'clock Charlotte Swain came running up from the beach, quite breathless, to say the captain was coming ashore and wanted especially to see Graham, so we went down, thinking he was perhaps bringing letters. We met him on the top of the cliff, and he and Mr. Keytel came with us to the house. This is what we learnt: the stranger's name was Pearson. The vessel was not an ordinary ship, but a ketch, nor had it a regular crew, but was manned by himself, his two brothers, a friend and a Creole. He was not the captain, but his next brother was, and held a master-mariner's certificate. They had come out from Dover with the object of seeing for themselves what these islands and Gough Island could produce in the way of guano. A friend had given them the ketch, and with only three pounds in their pockets they set sail. They had had a most adventurous voyage; for they took nearly five months coming out and were only provisioned for three. Our visitor told us of the straits they had been in for food. They had only flour, tea and a few biscuits left. Their oil had run short and they had just begun to eat uncooked flour. Of water they had only two gallons left. I understood that most of the time they had been without meat and had lived chiefly on dried beans and peas. Mr. Keytel told us that when he went on board they were trembling from weakness. Notwithstanding all they have gone through Mr. Pearson seemed quite cheerful and said he felt better for the voyage. None of them except the sailor-brother knew anything about the working of a boat; one of them was an architect, one a city clerk, and one a secretary. They had not long been out from Dover before these three were down with sea-sickness, and the captain had to do all the work, day and night, through the Channel. As soon as they found their sea-legs they had to take their turn at the tiller, with the result that the course was often very considerably changed from what the captain had set. At a Portuguese island they took in the Creole, who wanted to work his passage to the Cape. I think it was at this place that the Port Officials found the rolling and pitching of the boat too much for them, and had to beat a hasty retreat. The sails of the ketch are much damaged, due not to rough weather, but to having been allowed to flap when she was becalmed.

Our visitor, who is the architect, said he would like to go round the settlement, and was very much pleased with the architecture of the houses, which he thought to be in such excellent keeping with the natural tone of the place. Mr. Keytel has undertaken to get them supplies. To-night we sent them a large loaf of bread, sugar and treacle. Mr. Pearson said they did not want to beg, and offered clothes and books in exchange, but I said receiving was not begging and that it was a pleasure to give. We hear this evening that the American sealer has appeared on the scene, so no doubt they will be able to get something from her. The ketch has come close in and anchored, and looks so small. Their plan after visiting Gough Island is to go on to the Cape and there sell the ketch.

Sunday, October 25.—The American sealer came in and three boats went off to her, taking two of the Mr. Pearsons. They returned about two o'clock, when Graham went down and brought back to dinner Mr. Keytel, the youngest brother, who looks more like a son of the Mr. Pearson we first saw, and the friend, Mr. Crumpton. These two had started off for church this morning, but could not pull through the kelp and had to return. Directly dinner was over we had to hurry to service, the two young men going with us. They did not know what to do with their fox-terrier, but solved the difficulty by bringing it in. It certainly looks as if it had been through a famine, and as regards colour might have been living up the chimney. Later in the day the captain and his brother came ashore and Mr. Keytel brought them in, but they did not stay long as it was getting dusk.

Monday, October 26.—We are having a run of ships; another appeared this morning, and the men decided to go out to her though the sea was rough. We went down with Mr. Keytel who had kindly come in for our letters. I sat on the top of the bank with the Repettos and watched the proceedings. At first only one boat was going, but more men arriving a second was prepared. The sea was "making up" and it looked rather a risky business. They seemed to be hesitating about going, but were only waiting for the right moment to get off. When they did push off the last men who scrambled in got wet up to their waists and for one moment the boat pitched so it looked as if it would turn over, but in a minute or two it was in safer, though still rough, waters. The second boat got off better. Mr. Keytel and Repetto signalled to the men on the ketch to put out to sea on account of the weather. They were in need of water, but it was too rough to take any off to them. Later it got much rougher and a mist came over the sea. The boats had been seen returning from the ship, but afterwards had been lost sight of. As they did not appear in the afternoon it was thought they had landed to the east of Big Point, and would come home by land, and this was so. At about 4.30 smoke was seen on the mountain side; and soon the women hurried out with tea. We followed, and somehow felt sure that it was a ship that had called before, and that we might possibly get letters by it. The first men we met told us that the ship had come to fetch us, which was a great surprise. The captain had hove to all night, and said he could give us four hours to come out, but the men told him it would not be possible because of the weather; as it was, one boat had two of its boards broken and very nearly had to return. Next we heard the joyful news that our surmise was right and that there were letters for us. The post-bag was soaked and some of its contents, but not our letters. We returned with the people, and passing Mr. Keytel's house and seeing him at the door told him the news. He insisted on our going in and having a cup of tea. When we got back we were able to sit down and read our precious letters. I had four; getting news of home seems to bring one so much nearer to it. The men got a good deal of food-stuff from the ship, and, indeed, they are in need of it for they are living on meat only at present.

Tuesday, October 27.—They got 300 lbs. of flour, also rice, tea, sugar and soap.

There was a missionary on board who we understood from the men knew Graham, but sometimes they get a little mixed. Henry Green brought us as a present from the captain some Brown Windsor soap and a bottle of unfermented wine. Had it been fine the captain intended coming ashore.

Thursday, October 29.—The ketch arrived late yesterday evening, having taken all Tuesday and Wednesday to get in. The Pearsons have been on shore to-day and have filled their water-barrels. The captain and the architect dined with us, and the latter spent the afternoon with us. He is an interesting man and has been giving his advice about the stone which should be used for the church and house. He is strong upon the point that houses ought always to be built, when possible, of the material of the place, as that naturally, and, therefore, best, suits the landscape. His view is that nature will do much even where there is no beauty in the local stone itself. He thinks that mountains influence character, and that the people here have melancholy-looking faces which he attributes to the mountains. To an outsider, perhaps, the faces of many of the people do look thoughtful and sad, but their faces are hardly an index of their character.

Friday, October 30.—Four of the islanders, Henry Green, Repetto, Andrew Hagan and Bill Green have been building a new boat which was launched this afternoon. Two new boats are also being built by others. The boats are built entirely of driftwood with the exception of the ribs; for these the wood of the apple-tree is used, unless oak can be had from a whaler. Over the ribs are laid horizontal pieces of wood called slabbies, over which is nailed canvas which is oiled and painted. Henry's boat, the largest yet made, is twenty-two feet long.

Sunday, November 1.—We have had quite a summer-like day. The ketch party including the Creole came ashore early, and the Pearsons came to service and had dinner with us afterwards. We could just manage to sit round the table. Sitting in the garden in the afternoon I was joined by the architect who sat on the grass and discoursed. Soon we were called to tea, the two younger men having arrived, who were followed by the captain. They seemed to enjoy the home life and did not leave till after dusk. They have given much pleasure by presenting John Glass with a clock and Repetto with a watch.

Tuesday, November 3.—We asked the Pearsons to dinner as it was the twenty-first birthday of the youngest, and also to tea, for which had been made a special dough-cake which was much appreciated. To-morrow they intend going to Inaccessible to get samples of guano.

Wednesday, November 4.—I began looking over things preparatory to packing, but did not get through much for two visitors appeared, Martha Green with eggs and Ruth to have her finger poulticed. The four from the ketch had tea with us.

Friday, November 6.—Yesterday we had quite a home-like scene—afternoon tea in the garden at the architect's suggestion. He told me that once in London his weekly food-bill was only two shillings and sevenpence, the result of studying the nourishing values of different food-stuffs, of having no meat and of being his own cook. Presently the two younger men joined us and sat on the grass round the tea-tray. In the early hours of this morning they were off to Inaccessible, taking with them Repetto to show them where to find the guano.

This week I have not been to school but have devoted my time to sorting things and packing, and a great business it has been in these small quarters.



Monday, November 9.—Graham was hors de combat on Sunday with one of his headaches, so I had to take the services. I spoke out plainly about the attendance at church, though only by the way, and said it showed how little they cared about the things of God, and that we could not help asking ourselves if we had been any real help to even one person on Tristan.

This afternoon I gave up to gardening. Just as Ellen and I had planted out some tomatoes Mr. Keytel brought some mignonette plants and put them in. He brought also a sample of a loaf he had cooked which he thought was quite a triumph.

Thursday, November 12.—On Tuesday the ketch returned from the islands and has again anchored. I think the Pearsons are loath to take to sea again. The architect has most kindly drawn a plan for a church here, and I only wish we could carry it out.

We are gradually getting on with the work of packing, and have made lists of what is to be put by when we are gone.

I have taken rather a good view of the front of the house and want to print it on postcards to send home, but this takes time and I have little to spare in the morning.

Friday, November l3.—Our letters are to be taken on board to-day, for with the first north wind the ketch will move out. We wonder when it will reach Cape Town, for we fear it will be a long time on the way. While it has been here there has been a remarkable spell of fine weather.

Sunday, November 15.—The Pearsons have not gone yet. They landed to-day though it was somewhat rough, came to service, and had dinner with us.

Wednesday, November 18.—Our visitors have gone. They came in yesterday to say good-bye. I had to go to the women's meeting, but was back in time to pour out tea for them, after which we saw them off from Big Beach. The ketch, which was called Forget-me-not, had anchored off the settlement eighteen days and within half-a-mile of the shore. This was a record for Tristan waters.

Here is a note about vessels and Tristan given by Repetto and which he is very anxious should find its way into the newspapers: If a vessel in moderate weather comes in sight of the island just before nightfall and is recognized from the shore and is seen to be coming in the direction of the settlement, the boats from the island are sure to go off to meet it. The Master of the vessel will see a light on shore which many ships take to be a lighthouse; but it is not a lighthouse but a fire lit by the islanders to tell the ship that the boats have gone off to it. The Master of any ship that at night sees this fire is asked to show a white light as a guide to the boats to steer by. In the daytime when a ship sees smoke on the island it may know that the boats are coming out to her.



CHAPTER XXXIII

Friday, November 20.—Last night Mr. Keytel had a meeting of all the men, at which he asked Graham to be present as he wanted him to hear everything. He had drawn up an agreement to work for him for three years, which he invited all the men to sign except Bob Glass, with whom he will have no dealings. He spoke very plainly to the men and told them they had not been straightforward with him. To name one thing, they had never told him the sheep had scab. As a consequence the sheep sent to the Cape will no doubt have to undergo treatment and be a large expense. At his request Graham read the agreement aloud and explained it. All signed it. Mr. Keytel warned them that if any one broke the agreement he could be put into prison; whereupon some one asked if the prison would be here. "No," said Mr. Keytel; "Cape Town!"

This afternoon I took the girls of the knitting class for a picnic. When notice of it was given out in school I could see a smile of pleasure coming over their faces. Still, they take their pleasures solemnly. Nearly all appeared with knitting in their hands. Arrived at our destination, where we had a lovely view of red rocks jutting out into the sea, they all sat solemnly down in a row save Charlotte, who set to to make the fire and boil the water. After tea we hid chocolate in the grass, the finding of which they much enjoyed.

Tuesday, November 24.—Last week we sent round to each family all the clothing we could spare; and to-day we had Miss Cotton to tea to show her the various things in the house she is to have.

Yesterday Graham, Mr. Keytel, Repetto and H. Green were to have started upon an expedition round the island, but the weather changed. If they do not get off this week Graham will not go, because a vessel might call for us, though we do not expect one so early.

Wednesday, November 25.—This afternoon Graham and I, accompanied by five little girls, went towards the potato patches. Graham is measuring their distances from the settlement. He measured the first mile the other day, and when we came to the spot I painted on a large rock 1 MILE. We went on and measured a second mile, which was also marked, and then it was time to return. The children were delighted to help by holding the line and were as frolicsome as kittens.

Thursday, November 26.—This morning Graham, hearing from Repetto that it was not thought a good day for the expedition, as it would be rough for landing on the other side, determined to start off by himself on foot. He packed his food in a biscuit-tin, round which he rolled his overcoat, and put the bundle into an island knapsack. This knapsack is rather ingeniously made out of a sack by fastening to each of the bottom corners one end of a stout round band usually made of canvas stuffed with wool. Around the middle of this band is tied string, which ties the mouth of the sack and at the same time fastens the band to the mouth. In this way are formed two loops through which the arms go and which make excellent shoulder-straps. With this slung on his back he set forth, going west. In the afternoon, just as Ellen and I were starting forth to spend it in the open, Maria Green came to say her father did not like the thought of Graham having gone alone and that he was going to follow him. It was rather a relief to my mind as the mountain is dangerous in places. We went west and I sat down to sketch. Before very long we saw Henry and Tom coming quickly along on their donkeys and with knapsacks. I was glad of the opportunity of telling them how I appreciated their kindness.

When we got back we had one caller after another; some brought fish, another eggs, and another wool; we had seven visitors in all. I think perhaps it was a return for some soap which we had sent round yesterday. At last we were able to have supper, but bread had to be made before we could settle down for the evening.

I am making a blue serge dress for Little Lizzie and trimming the sleeves with narrow white tape.

Saturday, November 28.—Graham returned to-day having thoroughly enjoyed the expedition; but he did not get round the island as he had hoped to do, for his left knee gave way the first day. Probably the weight of his knapsack (21 lbs.) had something to do with this. He was overtaken early that evening by the two men, who went the short way round the Bluff through the sea. They got to Seal Bay that night and slept outside the usual cave by their fire, Graham's bed being two planks. Next day they went to Stony Beach about four miles further on and which I believe, is the most beautiful part of the island. There is a great deal of grass-land and quite a forest of trees. The two men did the cooking and insisted upon carrying Graham's knapsack. Early that morning Henry saw quite a new bird which he said looked like a woman standing straight up. Graham says it resembled a stork. The second night they slept inside the cave, which they cleaned out, and having dried the tussock in the sun had softer beds. Coming home, for the first time Graham rounded the Bluff, wading waist-deep.

I went to-day to see Ruth, who has been ill for a month with mumps, and the last two days has taken to her bed; her neck is very much swollen.

Monday, November 30.—Yesterday at noon a ship appeared and proved to be a whaler. All the men went out to her. Graham was in hopes he would get a letter from home, which he did, and I got one from an old friend of the islanders. Two of the islanders also got letters from relations in America. We hear that there is no likelihood of a ship calling for us. Mr. Keytel has, however, very kindly offered us passages in the Greyhound, which he expects about March 20. It is a comfort that our plans are thus made a little more definite. Now we know that no ship will call for us in December we are thinking of spending a week at Stony Beach. The captain of the whaler ordered a good deal: a bullock, sheep, forty fowls, geese, and one hundred bushels of potatoes.

Wednesday, December 2.—The people are pleased with their bartering. I believe they have eight barrels of flour, a large quantity of biscuits, and a barrel of molasses. After they had supplied him the captain told them that two more whalers would be calling.

This afternoon Mrs. Susan Swain came to tea. She was a St. Helenian and was brought here as a young married woman. She told us how home-sick she was at first.

Friday, December 4.—Just after service Lily Swain ran down to ask me to go and see Ruth as the swelling on her neck had burst. The swelling turned out to be an abscess, which was discharging freely. She has made very little of what she has suffered, only complaining of pain and of her neck being too tender to be touched.

This afternoon Graham has been whitewashing as we were anxious to leave the house in good order.

Thursday, December 10.—Yesterday the men went over to Seal Bay and shot five oxen, so they are well set up in meat for some time to come. They salt it down. To-day they have been working for Mr. Keytel putting a roof on an old boat-house to be used as a store for fish. All being well, they start fishing next Monday. The green fly is not as bad this month as it will be next.

Poor Rob has had a bad bite in his side—a three-cornered tear. Pie brought it upon himself, as he seized a bone from another dog. I thought it ought to be sewn up, and showed it to Mr. Keytel, who was of the same opinion, and to my great relief offered to do it. He sewed the edges together most successfully, and although it was hard work forcing the needle through the skin, Rob behaved admirably.

Friday, December 11.—Rob licked himself to such an extent last night that he opened the wound. We put a bandage round him, but he soon pushed it aside to lick, so we have had to leave the wound to him and nature.

Monday, December 14.—We are busy making children's garments for Christmas.

A ship passed to-day and put up a red flag, which we took to mean that it wanted to communicate with the island, but unfortunately it was too rough for the men to put out. The sea was covered with "white horses"—"caps," as they are called here.

Wednesday, December l6.—To-day the men started on the fishing business. They went off in their five boats about five o'clock, were out about five hours and did exceedingly well. Each boat-load was laid separately on the shingle. Then Mr. Keytel went from heap to heap and showed the women how to treat the fish. Each fish has to be slit open, cleaned, then slit twice again. The men helped by cutting off the heads. About fifteen hundred fish were thus dealt with. After they had been cleaned and slit they had to be washed. They were then carted up to the storehouse on the top of the cliff to be salted. Salt had to be thoroughly rubbed into each one, which took a long time. Lastly, they will be placed in barrels where they will be left till to-morrow, when, if fine, they will be hung up to dry. The drying process takes about three days. The people were working till almost dusk. Poor Mr. Keytel had a most unpleasant episode with one of the new-comers, who swore at him, and took off his coat to fight him, coming up to him two or three times. This happened before all the men and women. It appears the man was annoyed because Mr. Keytel was not on the shore when the boats came in. Mr. Keytel remained perfectly calm but told him he should fish no longer for him. He will have nothing more to do with him unless he apologizes.



Friday, December l8.—We had a diversion to-day. Betty Cotton hurried in to say a steamer was making for the settlement. Graham soon followed and said we must pack at once, for the steamer might be coming for us, and if not, might take us. Mr. Keytel was going off, and we asked him to hoist a flag if the captain was ready to take us. We packed as fast as we could and were surprised how quickly we did it. There was no delay, for we had made a list of what had to be put in at the last moment. Repetto came down and helped. When we had nearly finished he looked through his glass again and saw the boats returning and the steamer moving on. For the moment it was a blow, for we had to unpack and return to our normal life again. After comparing notes, we think the steamer saw the boats and stopped, but the men not realizing this turned for home. It would not have been a good day to go, for the sea was choppy and probably all our things would have got wet. There was too much surf for the boats to land on this beach. We don't regret not having gone, since we should like to be here for Christmas; indeed, we do not want to leave before the end of March.

I am still visiting Ruth, as her neck is not yet right; the only thing to do seems to be to go on poulticing it.

We wish it were possible for the Henry Greens to send their youngest child to the Cape to see a doctor. He is nearly four and cannot talk yet; the parents say he has once or twice said words and that he understands everything said to him.

Saturday, December 19.—Another eventful day. A whaler appeared and two boats were to be seen coming from it. It was the Canton, the whaler that was here last year with Walter Swain on board. This time it brought a mail from St. Helena. It was not a very exciting one, as it contained mostly papers. But the Postmaster of St. Helena most kindly sent two parcels of toys and some copy-books, which were particularly acceptable. He has been so kind in remembering the island each time a whaler has come from St. Helena. We had an agreeable surprise, Walter Swain bringing us letters sent through his owners, Messrs. Wing Bros, of New Bedford.

Tuesday, December 22.—A cry of "Sail, ho!" was raised during school. It was a wet and foggy morning. As the fog lifted for a moment, a four-masted vessel was seen coming straight for Hottentot Point. It was close in and in a few minutes would have been on the rocks. The captain must have had a great shock when he found how near land he was. The ship was seen to head out as fast as it could and was soon again lost to view in the fog.

Last Sunday was a very disorganized day. The captain of the whaler, a coloured man, came ashore and said he must leave that day as the weather was changing. I believe he would have waited had the men made a stand. With the exception of Henry Green and Repetto they were at work all day, digging up potatoes, carting them to the beach, and taking them off to the ship, from which they did not return till dark. They did very well, getting at least ten barrels of flour.

Saturday, December 26.—There was not much time for writing on Christmas Day. Mr. Keytel came in to supper, after which we played games, and then had a long chat, not getting off to bed till nearly eleven o'clock—very late for us primitive folk. The services were not largely attended, many heads of families being absent; but the elder boys and girls attended well. We had no need to cook a dinner for we had roast pig sent us by three different families, also a berry pie.

We are taking a short holiday, and intend next week, if fine, to go to Seal Bay for a day or two. William is to go with us to carry the baggage.

Sunday, December 27.—The weather seems more settled and we hope to start early to-morrow morning. William is most keen upon our going and has donkeys ready.



CHAPTER XXXIV

Seal Bay, Monday, December 28.—Well, I must tell of all our doings from the beginning. We went to bed last night before eight, and were up this morning by four o'clock. Our packing did not take long. My possessions were a rug, air cushion, bathing dress, pair of stockings, comb, towel, tooth-brush, soap, knitting, a gospel, sketching things, a book and camera. We started at six, Ellen, Mary Repetto and Sophy Rogers accompanying us as far as the Bluff, which is five miles out. Ellen and I rode on donkeys and a third carried the baggage. Graham very much hoped we should be able to keep to the shore by wading round the Bluff, which is not always possible as the sea sometimes dashes against the cliff with much force. It would only have taken a few minutes and would have saved a long climb over the Bluff. However, William, who is timid, was dead against it, so we chose the hill. It meant hard climbing over several ridges and took us about an hour and a half. Ellen and the girls kept with us till the descent began, when we bid them farewell. We filed along the side of the mountain for some time and found it rather rough walking, the track leading through long grass in which were hidden holes and stones. At last we got down to the shore, and after a sandy bit had three miles of clambering and stepping over boulders and big stones. This was really hard work, if only because one was obliged to hold the head down in order to pick every step. At last we got near the end of it, and coming to a stream trickling down the cliff—how we welcomed the water, for we were hot and thirsty!—we sat down and had our lunch.

Tuesday, December 29.—To continue the account. We had now come to a very picturesque part, and were nearly at Seal Bay. On the shore was a clump of rocks forming an archway. Rocks like these are rather a feature on this side of the island. We had now a short but stiff climb; holding on to tufts of stubbly reed-like grass we pulled ourselves up to the top of the cliff. Here we were on fairly level ground, an uneven plain nearly three miles long, the first part of which had its grass thickly strewn with tiny ferns. The sweet-scented geranium abounded and so did the crowberry, which is a finer and sweeter kind than that which grows nearer the settlement. We frequently stopped to refresh ourselves with it. Near a gulch we sat down for a good rest, and then trudged on to Seal Bay. The scenery was fine, high mountains with long, grassy slopes. We soon got to the cave on the shore which the men generally occupy, a poor sort of shelter. The first thing we now did was to cook our supper. Boiling water was soon ready for the tea and steaming potatoes for the cold meat. Supper over I went to a pool to wash up, and found the water quite warm. The next thing was to find a sleeping-place. We went along the shore in search of a cave and in about ten minutes came to two side by side. One was immense—long, broad and lofty—and we immediately marked it off as our drawing-room. The other was just as small; it had a good open frontage, but was only about seven feet broad; it would do, though, to sleep in. Both were floored with clean sand and fairly dry. Close by we saw troops of penguins, which looked so delightfully quaint hopping and running in long files to the sea. They have such an ancient look as they move with bent body and head poking forward. We finally decided to sleep in the open on a sand bank, which was still warm from the sun. We found the best plan was to scoop out a place to lie in and heap up sand for a pillow. We had left William busy blocking up his cave with planks, and stopping up every crevice with tussock, so that not a breath of cold air should enter. Sleep would not come to us, and the roar of the waves dashing on the beach a few yards below us did not help to bring it. The wind, rising, began to blow the sand in our faces. This was a little too much, so about two o'clock Graham got up and lit the fire which he had already laid just inside the cave, and soon we were sitting and warming ourselves at its blaze. Then we tried the cave and got a little sleep, but were awakened by William at four. We sent him off to fish, and after resting a little longer, got up and had a bathe. There were rather big breakers, and I was knocked down but was none the worse. William, who as a rule is no fisherman, had caught six fish, and I superintended the boiling of them for breakfast, while Graham went for fresh water, which is only to be had some distance off.

Wednesday, December 30.—We started betimes yesterday for Stony Beach and found it a longer walk than I expected. We went along the shore, part of the way over boulders, then on to the side of the hill, where I photographed two mollyhawks on their nest. I also took photographs at different points along the shore. We at last got on to a grassy slope. We were feeling tired, but trudged on. As we neared Stony Hill we heard the galloping of wild cattle, and soon a troop of them appeared. Happily, we were well out of their course, for they are sometimes dangerous. This part of the way was very tiring and we were thankful—at least I was—when we got to the wooded valley which was our destination. Amongst the trees were flocks of noisy penguins. We were now in a most lovely part; it was really beautiful, and the view up the valley wild and fine. We settled down under the shade of the trees, made a fire and had a meal, after which Graham and William wandered away. I thankfully found a shady spot under a tree and had a rest. Then roused myself and tried to sketch. It was very hot and one did not feel energy for anything, not even to read. After a time Graham and William returned; they had wandered on to the opposite hill, from where I had heard their voices. Graham was anxious I should see the valley, so at last I mustered energy enough to stroll up. I was glad I went, for the view was very grand. We toiled up the side of the valley on to a ridge and looked down on Stony Beach, which lay at a great depth below. Scattered along it in a half-circle were hundreds of penguins. We slowly made our way down again, resting when we could under the shade of trees. We got back to the place where we lunched, made some tea, and had a hard-boiled egg each and some bread-and-butter, but not much, as we had to husband our food. It was about six, and we thought it time to start back to Seal Bay. We could not stay at Stony Beach, as we knew of no shelter. Walking across the moor, we kept a look-out for the cattle and spied them some distance away on higher ground; they appeared to be watching our movements narrowly. We came back quickly and got to our quarters in an hour and thirty-five minutes, just as it was getting dusk. We sat down at the mouth of our cave; then Graham and William lit the fire and put the potatoes on to boil. I sat near and at intervals progged the potatoes. It came on to rain slightly, but the cave just sheltered us. William slept in a corner against the wall, near where the fire had been. Graham got up in the middle of the night and put a rug over him, as he had not been able to sleep much the night before on account of feeling cold. I never had a better night, and felt refreshed, though tired. It has been very showery, but we managed to go off for a bathe and found a better place than yesterday's: a place between two rocks, into which the sea rushed at frequent intervals. We enjoyed a lazy morning. While Graham and William played cricket in the large cave, I rested in the other. When I looked in upon them a little later I found them stretched at full length, with pocket-handkerchiefs over their faces, which told its own tale.

There is lying on the rocks here the trunk of a large tree, which was first washed up on Tristan in 1894. It then measured, Repetto says, 120 feet to 140 feet in length, and 20 feet in girth.



Thursday, December 3l.—Here we are, at home again, feeling decidedly tired, but having much enjoyed our holiday in the open air. We spent a very quiet day yesterday. In the afternoon I sketched an archway of rock. Then I went along the shore in search of Graham and William. The latter was trying, without either hook or bait, to catch fish, and caught three crawfish, one of which we had for supper. This morning we were up soon after four and had our bathe; the sun was just rising. We returned to prepare breakfast. William was to have had the fire lit, but we found he had used all his matches in vain. The fire was made to burn at last and breakfast cooked and over, we packed our knapsacks and started for home. We got across the plain fairly well and down the cliff, which was not an easy descent, on to the shore. It took us one hour and twenty-five minutes scrambling over the stones and boulders of the shore, and we went very quickly, just taking a respite now and again. In some parts, where there had been landslips, it was not safe to halt. We were glad when we got over this part, but the worst was to come. The mountain had a heavy mist over it. Before we began to ascend it we sat in Anherstock Gulch and had lunch. We were very thirsty and the only water we could get was some rain-water in the hollow of a rock. The ascent was steep, and before we had gone far rain came on. Then we had to walk along the side of the mountain in a narrow path bordered and overhung by dripping ferns. The last part was very steep and I kept stumbling over my wet skirt, and really if William had not assisted me, I do not know how I should have got up. Graham had as much as he could do to drag up the load on his back. From the heights which we now reached we could see the Bluff and make out figures which we guessed were awaiting us. Before long we got down to them and found they were Ellen and the children. She had brought donkeys and also a dry skirt and waterproof for me, which I was thankful to put on. The donkeys soon were saddled and we set off home. The saddles were men's and lacked stirrups. We came home at a tremendous pace, and it was as much as I could do to stick on. Graham, relieved of his load, ran behind and kept the donkey going. Knowing we were wet through, he would not listen to my entreaties to let the animals walk, so we raced the five miles home. As we neared the houses people came out to greet us, and were glad to see we were safely back. Only a few of the women have been to Stony Beach, and I doubt if any have been up the valley. In the evening the men came round, as is their custom on New Year's Eve, and in the intervals of playing and drinking tea were most interested in hearing about our expedition. They think we went about thirty-two miles.



CHAPTER XXXV

Tuesday, January 5, 1909.—We have had another excursion. Thinking we would make the most of the holiday, yesterday we went with some of the young people up to the Ponds. It was our intention to start early, but the weather looked uncertain, so we waited awhile. At last we started off. Our party of eleven included Alfred, Maria and Johnny Green, William and Sophy Rogers, Emma Hagan, and Mary, Martha and Susan Repetto. We had a short walk over the sands going east, and then one of the stiff climbs, now becoming quite familiar, up the mountains, but we climbed leisurely, picking and eating berries as we went. It was a really hard climb at the end. Having reached the top we walked along a gulch, where I took two photographs, and from there got on to a moor which was covered with high-growing ferns, making walking difficult. We had about three miles of this and then reached the Ponds. They are close together, and the top one flows into the middle one and that again into the third. We descended to the first and there sat down for lunch, and how thankful we were to rest no words can say. Mary undertook the boiling of the water drawn from the pond; there was not much wood and a strong wind, and it seemed as if it would never boil. After lunch, as it was blowing rather cold, we moved on, making a detour along the opposite hill round the second pond to the third. The ponds lie in very deep, round basins, the sides of which in many places are thick with trees. We did not attempt to go down to the two last. Returning, we thought we would try a short cut across the moor to the edge of the mountain. Andrew Hagan, who had joined us, advised us not to try this, but the spirit of adventure was upon us, and so we and the children set forth. We certainly got into many pitfalls. We had numerous small ravines to cross and their almost impossible banks to scramble up, and at times had to push our way through bushes and ferns. We came across a good many mollyhawks sitting on their nests, which they seem to frequent after their young ones have flown. We saw one or two of the young; they are so pretty and are covered with a blue fluffy down. It was not easy to keep Rob and Scotty from molesting them. We clambered down the mountain fairly quickly. William most thoughtfully had told Ned to meet us with the donkey, and I was most thankful for it. It was getting on for eight by the time we got home. Graham thinks we must have been about fifteen miles. I think it was the most tiring expedition we have had, but do not regret having gone. The children enjoyed themselves immensely, and it was delightful to hear their peals of laughter; they were here, there, and everywhere.

Tuesday, January l2.—Mr. Keytel is encountering many difficulties. The fact is, the men are not pulling together, which is due to the new-comers, who have done an untold amount of mischief in every way. There are divisions and quarrels among them, and their morals are bad.

Six men who last week went to Inaccessible returned on Sunday. They had hoped to do some sealing, but could not get into the cave. I am sorry to say one of them purposely set fire to the tussock grass, which has been burning for three days. The fire can be seen from here, twenty-five miles away. The men say that thousands of birds must have been destroyed, as it is their nesting time. It is horrible to think of.

We started school again last Monday, after more than a fortnight's holiday. For some time the elder Swain girls have left off coming to school, and now William means to leave; he is eighteen, and is wanted for work. While I write I hear the cheerful strains of a concertina which he is playing.

Friday, January 15.—Soon after four this morning the settlement was awakened by terrific cries of "Sail, ho!" Some smoke was seen, and it was first thought to be that of a steamer, but there was so much it seemed to be a ship on fire. The men went off and did not get back till the evening, as they had a long distance to go. The ship was a whaler melting the blubber of a whale caught the night before. They had on deck the half of the head, inside of which men were digging with spades—which gives an idea of its size. The whale in Tristan waters is the Southern Right Whale.

Saturday, January 16.—A vessel emerged from the mist to-day. In a marvellously short time the men were off to her. She was a Norwegian one bound for Australia, and had made a quick run of fourteen days from Rio Janeiro. After the men returned in the evening they had to go off again with sheep and potatoes to the whaler, which was standing out to the east. We sat on the cliff once more, looking at the busy scene on the beach and watching with interest the boys guiding down the steep road the bullock-carts, which at times looked as if they would heave over, and indeed one did. The men will probably not be back till the small hours of the morning, which will make a working-day of nearly twenty-four hours for them, as they were up very early digging potatoes for the whaler.

Monday, January l8.—The men failed to catch the whaler on Saturday night. I suppose the captain had given them up and moved further out. They got back about 2 o'clock, and after a few hours' rest went off again to her, returning in the evening. This morning, just before starting for church, a third ship was sighted in the far distance.

We have had rather uncertain weather lately, with a good deal of wind. The last few days have been hot and misty. The flower garden has not done very well this year, partly due to the wind.

The ship that was sighted to-day was another whaler. It was too breezy for the men to go out to it, so they went to dig potatoes to be ready for to-morrow.

Wednesday, January 20.—In the late afternoon I was sketching the mountains with the houses below, so as to give an idea of the great height of the overshadowing cliffs. It was rather too ambitious a sketch. I sat out on the plain right away from the houses.

Saturday, January 23.—Yesterday being Sophy Rogers' birthday, we went in the afternoon for a picnic. The invited were all those who attend the knitting-class. We went a little way west and had tea in a ravine. Mary Repetto, who is generally the leading spirit, superintended the boiling of the water. Afterwards the girls had rounders on the plain, playing with great zest. It was amusing to watch their different characters. Mary, intensely in earnest and galloping round at terrific speed; at the same time trying to keep every one else up to the mark; her face showing displeasure or amusement with lightning rapidity. Her sister Martha, very serious and looking rather harassed. Sophy, a tall, rather pretty girl, taking all in good part and entering into the game with great enjoyment. Maria, who is decidedly staid, playing well, but not letting herself go. Emma, the tallest of all, good-natured, and enjoying herself immensely, but taking things easily. Susan, as active as a young goat and full of laughter. We joined for a game, but I was soon glad to take my place again as a spectator.

Thursday, January 28.—Most of the men are walling in new potato patches. The young Swains are going to build a house. This will be the first that has been put up for at least ten years. The difficulty will be to get wood enough. The men do not care much for building.

Graham talks of going up to the Peak again, and I may possibly go too; we should not do it in a day, but camp out for at least one night. The hardest part is the ascent from the settlement on to the Base.

Monday, February 1.—Last Saturday Henry had rather a bad fall from his donkey. He was going at a good pace when the crupper broke, and he was thrown over the donkey's head on to the stony track. He hurt his neck, cut his face, and the inside of his mouth. Calling this morning, I found his mouth was festering inside, and as he thought there was grit there, at his wife's suggestion I syringed it. The grit had lodged in a hole, and it took nearly an hour to dislodge it. Even then I was not sure it was all out, and so promised to go up again this afternoon, and, syringing again, more came out. I hope the wound may now heal quickly.

Graham and Mr. Keytel have been exploring this afternoon. They wanted to find the way to the Base from a certain point. I did not realize till the other day that when we climb to the Base we are considerably higher than the Malvern Hills.

Mr. Keytel has had to throw away a great number of his dried fish. Some had become fly-blown, and some mildewed. The north wind does so much damage in moistening things, and so causing food to spoil.

Monday, February 8.—This evening I was sitting on the common, having just finished sketching, when, looking up, I saw the poor sheep being driven hither and thither by one of Henry Green's dogs, which the girls were powerless to stop. It ran the sheep to the edge of the cliff, and two, in their fright, ran down to the shore and one was nearly drowned. But the girls followed; and Martha got hold of the sheep by its tail and with the assistance of the others drew it out of the sea.

Wednesday, February 10.—Most of the men have gone off to Inaccessible. The island has now been on fire for a month.

Friday, February 12.—This morning a ship was seen. Hearing it was a whaler, I went up to school as usual, and did not trouble about letters. In a few minutes Mr. Repetto looked in to ask for Mary, and said it was a merchant ship, and that the men were just going off. I flew home, got my letters and dispatched them by Johnny Green. Graham was just too late with his. Soon after the three boats came back from Inaccessible. They had had bad weather, and had only caught four seals. The cave in which they are caught is very dark and has to be entered with lanterns, hence a good many got away. The other men returned from the ship in the early evening. We hear the captain would have been ready to take us. He was going to Melbourne. I am glad, though, not to go so far; it is a long round. As the time gets nearer, so the desire becomes greater to see all our home people; but we must just await our time.



Saturday, February 13.—Tom has just been in and told us how well they did on the ship yesterday. The captain was very kind. This morning there was another cry of "Sail, ho!" Twenty-two went off and caught the ship. It was an English one, and again bound for Melbourne. Repetto asked the captain if he would give us a passage, but he said he had no room, as he had already a passenger. I felt anxious as to whether we should have to go off, and even began to collect some books, but, rather to my relief, on looking out I saw the ship's sails going up again. Now that the prospect of getting home is so much in our thoughts it seems such a journey round by Australia. I suppose it would take us six weeks to get there.

Graham and Mr. Keytel have at last found the way up from the Goat Ridge to the Base. Mr. Keytel ascended by rather a dangerous way, but managed to hold on and pull himself up. They were so late in coming home that I went to Mrs. Repetto, and we both walked as far as the gulch to look for them; before long she saw them coming, greatly to my relief.

Monday, February l5.—William came in on Saturday night to show us a watch he had bought for five shillings from an apprentice on the last ship. He wanted to show his treasure at once. I only hope it will go, but he does not seem to have any apprehensions on that score; it is a watch, and he possesses it!

In view of our leaving, Graham has given to Repetto the Bishop's commission to hold a service every Sunday, to take baptisms, and to perform marriages.



CHAPTER XXXVI

We have now quite made up our minds not to go by any ship bound for Australia, as we have the Greyhound to fall back upon.

Wednesday, February l7.—This afternoon, as I was contemplating a walk with Graham, Susie Repetto came to ask me to go up and see Martha, who in chopping wood had cut her foot rather badly with an axe. I found she had done it this morning; it was a bad gash on the top of the foot, and had bled profusely. Her father had bound it up, and told them to ask me to go up and see to it this afternoon. It ought to have been sewn up, and Repetto intended to do that, but Lavarello dissuaded him. Repetto is quite a doctor—and surgeon too. When, a few years ago, old Susan Swain fell and broke her left leg at the shin into splinters, he very cleverly set it, and she now walks about as well as ever, and shows no sign of lameness— even in spite of her not having altogether obeyed his instructions. His account of the setting is most amusing. He says he was never so hot in his life. His great difficulty was to get at the fracture, for as soon as he pulled up the skirt to look at it, it was promptly pulled down again by one or another of the many bystanders. He was equally successful in two cases amongst his children, one of whom had her wrist, and the other his shoulder dislocated.

[June, 1910.—As I write this for the printer, news comes of a very sad accident to poor little Florrie Swain, aged seven, by a stone falling upon her at Pig's-Bite. This is how Repetto writing on April 24 describes the case:—

"I am little busy now about that I have to attend to little Florence which she as bough (both) legs brock below the neess but one of it she got three wonds one just below the nee about tow inches long and mor than a inche wide another on the brocken bon which the bon is entirely out about 3 inches long and another large ones on top the foot which reach from ones side the enckel bone to the other and some more smoll ones also the same leg I had operetion on her foot which I had to cut off the big toe and the nex to the big one and mor the alf of the underfoot All them see give her up but now she get on nisely ... beside Athur Rogers he had his herm dislocate so I am now cleagy and doctor."]

Thursday, February 18.—Ellen was hors de combat to-day, consequently I have had a most domestic day. I swept the rooms, skimmed the milk, boiled the coffee and the eggs. After breakfast Mary came to help. Though only thirteen, she has the capability of a girl of eighteen. She looked after the boiling of the milk, of which there was a bucketful, washed up, and cleaned the saucepans. These are done outside at the Watering and cleaned with sods. I did the bedroom, made a milk pudding and trimmed the lamp. It was then time for church. In the middle of the morning I had to run off to dress Martha's foot, which is doing well. She has to keep in bed, but does not seem to mind, as she is fond of reading.

Monday, February 22.—We have not had very much summer this year. To-day is quite cold, and we are told there is snow on the Peak.

Thursday, February 25.—Mr. Keytel has met with many discouragements, but if the Government will grant him certain concessions he fully intends to return. He said one day, "I think most men would have thrown the whole business up"; and truly I think they would.

Thursday, March 4.—The vine on the house is growing at such a rate; rather more than a third of the front of the house is now covered with it, and it has actually grapes. Not much has been done in the garden this year on account of the fowls, but we have had a few vegetables. The cucumbers have done well. I cut one a day or two ago, which was a monster. There being no bees here, the blossoms have to be set. Tomatoes never seem to ripen on the plant.

Wednesday, March 10.—Now that our time is probably so near to a close it gives rather an unsettled feeling. The Greyhound is expected in ten days' time.

Yesterday every one, except Susan Swain, who has been ill, turned up at the women's meeting—in all, twenty-one. At first few were able to follow what was read, but now they enjoy it and laugh at the jokes. I always give a short address at the end, and only hope it may be a little help to them.

To-day I found old Eliza Hagan here when I came back from school, and induced her to stay to dinner. The Hagans were thrashing wheat in her house, so she was glad to get away. She is such a kind old soul, and never says an unkind thing of any one. She is so big that I always tremble lest the chair should give way.

We often talk of the Greyhound and how we shall manage on it. It is really a question of where they can put us. I expect Ellen and I shall have to sleep in the hold, and as for a place to have meals in, I do not believe there is any. I shall rather enjoy the experience of roughing it for a time. It will be something to look back upon.



Thursday, March 11.—This morning Mrs. H. Green came with a present of butter and eggs, it being Alfred's birthday. She asked us to tea this afternoon. We were just going to sit down to dinner, and made her join us. She went away directly afterwards, saying, "We must forgive her manners, for she must get home." They were giving a birthday dinner.

Monday, March l5.—A ship was sighted this morning; it was lost sight of for a time, but later appeared again, when the men went out to it.

This afternoon Mr. Keytel invited the school-children to his lawn, a square grass-plot behind his house, where he took photographs of them playing various games. It was intensely hot. Later we played games in earnest. On leaving each child received some prunes.

The men got to the ship at dusk and did not return till the early morning. It was from London and going to Australia. The captain told the men that he had seen in the paper that the Pandora was coming here with the mail. The people are quite excited about this piece of news, which will give them a subject for conversation for some time to come.

Friday, March 19.—On Wednesday a good many of the people went by boat to the orchards at Sandy Point, and brought back sacks of apples.

We are quite proud of our cucumbers. To-day I measured one I brought in; it was close on a foot in circumference. I have never seen such fine ones at home, and I think these are more juicy.

We wonder each day whether it will be our last here.

Saturday, March 20.—All eyes are scanning the ocean for the schooner, and I may add, for the Pandora. I think Mr. Keytel is beginning to feel he will be glad to get away.

One comes across curious types of human nature. The other day Bob Glass sent to ask if he could preach on Sundays at the church when we are gone. Graham replied, "No." Then he came to see him and said he had got the learning, but Graham pointed out to him that it was the life that was needed, and showed him that he had not this, because, to mention only one thing, he was a notorious swearer, which he admitted. He came again the next day or the day after to ask if his child could be baptized, and also to ask if he might preach on Saturday afternoon at the church-house, as there were several of the boys who wanted to hear how he could do it. The child was baptized on Sunday.

Tuesday, March 23.—Ellen was amused the other day by one of the women telling her that she had ready some nice fresh eggs for us when her turn came to serve us, which would be a week hence.

We have been to look at the new house, which was begun yesterday. One side is nearly up. The stone from an old cottage of Susan Swain's is being used, which, being ready squared, saves a good deal of labour. The fireplace, the most difficult part, was being built to-day.

Friday, March 26.—We go up each evening to look at the house. The stonework will be nearly finished by to-morrow. The measurement is forty feet by twelve.

Monday, March 29.—Each day we expect to hear a cry of "Sail, ho!" and that our time of departure has come, but, of course, here things must be uncertain, so we must just patiently wait.

On Saturday, in passing over Hill Piece, Graham and I saw smoke, and, getting on to Burnt Hill, saw large burnt patches and smoke and flames arising from various directions. Upon inquiry, we learnt that one of the men had fired a piece to see if he could procure stone there. He had never put the fire out, and it has been burning for three months. Probably it will cover a good deal of ground before it dies out, which will mean so much loss of pasture for the cattle. Graham went to-day to see what he could do by trenching and so cutting off a small plot. The soil was at burning heat quite a foot deep.



CHAPTER XXXVII

On the Svend Foyne.

Monday, April 5.—Well, we are on our homeward road at last! I must go back and relate events from the beginning. On Wednesday afternoon, feeling a little tired, I had taken my chair outside in front of the cottage and nearly fell asleep. I fancied I heard a sound of "Sail, ho!" but thinking it was the children at play, I thought no more of it, although Rob at once looked up. Presently two of the young girls rushed down to the house, calling out, "Three steamers from the westward." I jumped up at once, and we set to to collect everything that had to be packed. Mr. Keytel and Repetto appeared and told us the men would soon be starting for the steamers, which were coming close in. It was arranged that Repetto should stay and Henry Green carry on the negotiations with the captain, who was to be asked to run up a red flag if he were willing to take us. The men soon got off, but were not able to intercept the steamer, which got in front of them, and it looked at one time as if there were no hope of overtaking it. They hoisted a sail in hope of attracting the captain's attention. Between our packing we kept anxiously looking out at them, and before very long went up to the Repettos' house, where we could see better. After some time of anxious watching the steamer seemed to be slowing down, and at last we saw the boats get alongside. There was a concourse of women and children at the Repettos' house, and I shall not forget Mary's anxious little face as she keenly watched the movements of the steamer. When she saw it was slowing down she fled into the house. There I found her behind the door, weeping bitterly, as well as Martha, and did my best to comfort them. Before very long the boats came back and we went down to the shore to hear the news. It seems that when the captain heard they had things for barter he said he did not want anything. Then Henry Green called out could he have a few words with him, as he had a message to give him from the minister. This was allowed; so Henry went on board and put things so well that, after some consideration, the captain said he would take us, and would wait till eight that evening, and even until ten. "No," said Henry, "that won't do; it isn't fit weather for them to come off tonight; it'll be better to-morrow." Finally the captain said, "I can't wait for them longer than eight o'clock to-morrow morning. If they are not here by then I must go." He was anxious to coal his two small steamers, and had come close to the island expecting to find smoother water in which to do so. He told us afterwards he only took us because he knew how difficult it must be to get off the island. It was a reprieve to know we had not to leave that night; it gave us time to go round and say good-bye to all the old people. Some of them, especially Eliza Hagan, Betty Cotton and Martha Green, felt it very much. Mr. Keytel made up his mind to throw in his lot with us and not wait for his schooner. We were up till midnight, and were up again soon after four, when it was quite dark. We had breakfast at half-past five, as Graham had arranged for a service at six. To this service men, women and children came to the number of sixty. We had two hymns, "Jesu, meek and gentle," and "Fight the good fight," two or three prayers, and a few words of farewell. Old Eliza, Susan Hagan and Betty followed us back into the house and stayed till it was time to leave for the shore. We had prayer together and then we went down to the beach. Nearly every one was there to bid us good-bye. I think the little boys were very happy, feeling they would have no more school, but the women and girls were almost in tears. The boats were at last ready, and we followed them as they were pushed to the brink of the water, then got in, and the men—waiting for an opportune moment, for there were breakers—pushed off, sprang in and bent to their oars. It took about half-an-hour to get to the ship, which was a large iron one. Our boat waited close by till those in the first one had gone on board. One or two waves had splashed into the boat, and I found myself sitting in a pool of water. When our turn came a grimy rope was put round our waists, and we had to clamber up a steep iron ladder as best we could, coal-besmeared faces looking down upon us from above. As soon as the baggage was on board the order was given to go ahead. Many of the men when they came to say good-bye were in tears; Henry in particular seemed to feel the parting. We watched them getting into their boats and waved adieux as they sped on their way homeward.

Now I must tell a little about the ship, which is a Norwegian whaler of 4,000 tons, and has accompanying it two little steamers, on each of which is mounted a gun, from which the harpoon is shot. The captain is returning from the South Shetlands (south of Cape Horn), and has caught 392 whales of two or three varieties. Below are 8,000 barrels of oil, which he is taking to Cape Town to be sent on from there to an English or Scotch market.

Wednesday, April 7.—I forgot to mention that Joe Hagan, one of last year's arrivals and a very decent fellow, managed through Mr. Keytel to get a passage.

The day we left there were clouds over Tristan, and to my disappointment we could not see the Peak, which I have not yet seen. The island was visible most of the day. We kept on deck all day, but towards evening our sea troubles began. Some of the oil being stored in tanks caused the ship to roll more than it ordinarily would. From that Thursday evening till Monday morning neither Graham nor Ellen came up-stairs, and were really very ill. I could just manage to get out of my bunk and crawl up-stairs on to the sofa in the tiny saloon, which was heaped up with our small luggage, and was the home of the two dogs, Rob and Scotty. The utmost I was capable of these two days was twice a day to look in upon the invalids. Happily, we had the kindest of stewards, with the softest of voices, who looked well after them, and Mr. Keytel did all he could. On Sunday there was a moderate gale, but Monday was calmer, and we all revived and got out on deck.

Ellen had been given some apples before starting, the islanders telling her they were good for seasickness. Feeling a little revived, we thought we would like to try them, so she brought us some. Presently I heard an exclamation from her, and found she was looking at the paper in which the apples had been wrapped. In putting them away she had recognized in the paper a portrait of my eldest brother. On looking at the paper, I saw his portrait and that of his intended bride, with a notice of his approaching marriage. This was the first intimation I had of my brother's engagement. It seemed so curious that of all the papers that came from that ship, this should have been the one little bit of them to reach us, and that, too, after we had left the island. We always saw any papers brought from ships, but these from the London ship, which was boarded about a fortnight ago, did not come into our hands.

Poor Graham is very much run down and looks as if he had put on twenty years. It is the greatest mercy that we have come by this steamer and not by the schooner.

It is quite an interest to watch the small steamers ploughing behind. Sometimes the waves wash right over their decks. As the sea is not smooth enough for them to be coaled from the large steamer, they have had to be taken in tow. This will delay our passage, but the captain expects to be in Table Bay on Thursday evening. We are having beautiful weather and are able to be on deck all day long.

Thursday, April 8,—We cannot feel thankful enough that we were given passages on this steamer. Mr. Keytel is glad too, and has been able to learn a great deal about whaling from the captain, with whom he talks by the hour. We cannot say too much of Captain Mitchelsen's kindness and generosity. When Mr. Keytel asked him what we were indebted to him, he would hear of no payment, though Mr. Keytel urged it again and again. At last he said, "If you like you may pay the steward for the food, but nothing more."

Royal Hotel, Cape Town, Saturday, April 10, 1909. Here we are, and so thankful to be on shore. Thursday, our last night on board, was rather a bad one; the ship rolled horribly, on account of slackening speed, and scarcely any one slept. We were astir betimes, and much enjoyed the beauty of the outline of coast. It was delightful to feast our eyes on the bright sunshiny shore dotted with red-roofed houses. It was a beautiful day, and Table Mountain and the town looked very fine as we rounded in. We anchored in the Bay, and soon plying round us were numerous little motor-launches. The Port Doctor did not appear till long after the other officials because, I suppose, it was Good Friday, and then had to go back for papers. In consequence of this delay we did not leave the ship until the afternoon. The poor dogs were not even so fortunate, having to be left behind till the morrow to be passed by the veterinary surgeon. We embarked on one of the launches, and I must say it was delightful to step ashore and to enter what seemed to us almost a new world.

That evening we found our way to the cathedral, and I think we could from our hearts give thanks for all God's goodness to us. When we started forth four years ago I rather dreaded facing the world, but all along our path we have met with the greatest kindness and have made many new friends. In all we see God's guiding Hand; and very especially did the arrival of the steamer at the very time we would have chosen make us feel conscious of God's loving kindness and tender care.



APPENDICES

A. THE FAUNA AND FLORA OF TRISTAN

There is nothing peculiar to Tristan in either its Fauna or Flora. Of the birds those we saw or heard most of were:—

1. The Gony, the Wandering Albatross (Diomedia exulans). A few lay on Inaccessible but none on Tristan. 2. The "Pe-o," the Sooty Albatross (Phoebetria fuliginosa). Comes to nest in August, leaves in April. 3. The Molly, Yellow-nosed Mollyhawk (Thalassogeron chlororhyncus). Comes to nest in August, leaves in April. 4. The Sea-hen, the Southern Skua (Stercorarius antarcticus). Is in all the year, begins to lay in August. 5. The Black Eaglet, the Long-winged Fulmar (Aestrelata Macroptera). Comes in to moult in May; lays first week in July. 6. The White-breasted Black Eaglet. Lays in November. 7. The King-bird, the Kerguelen Tern (Sterna Vittata). Comes in September, and lays in November. 8. The Wood-pigeon, the "Noddy" (Anous Stolidus). Comes in September and lays in November. 9. The Night-bird, the Broad-billed Blue Petrel (Prion Vittatus). Comes in July and lays in September. 10. The "Pediunker," lays in May and June; it is like a Petrel. We think it must be the Shearwater (Profinus Cinereus); of which we were told at the South African Museum, Cape Town, that it frequents Scotland, and that its nesting-place was unknown until Mr. Keytel brought a specimen of it and of its eggs from Tristan in 1909. 11. The Starchy, the Tristan Thrush (Nesocictela). A land bird. No song. 12. The Finch, the Tristan Finch (Nesospiza Acunhae). A land bird. 13. The Penguin, the Rock-hopper Penguin (Catarrhactes Chrysocome). Comes to moult in March; comes again in August and lays in September. Last year's young ones come to moult in December.

The first name is the island name. "Pe-o" and "Pediunker" are attempts at spelling.

The fish we saw at Tristan were:—-

1. Whale, Southern Right Whale (Balaena Australis). 2. Sea-elephant. 3. Seal (Arctocephalus pusillus). 4. Shark. 5. Blue-fish (Perca antarctica). 6. Snoek (Thyrsites atun). 7. Mackerel (Scomber Pneumatophorus). 8. Five-finger (Chilodactylus Fasciatus lac). 9. Soldier-fish. 10. Craw-fish. 11. Clip-fish.

Of the trees and plants those we most frequently met with were:—-

1. The Island Tree (Phylica nitida). Found also on the islands Gough, Amsterdam, Bourbon, and Mauritius. 2. Tussock (Spartina Arundinacea); distinct from the real Tussock (Poa Flabellater). "The geographical distribution of this grass is remarkable, being confined to the Tristan group and Gough Island, and the Islands of St. Paul and Amsterdam in the Indian Ocean, 3,000 miles distant" (Blue-book). 3. Flax. 4. Willow, a few trees on the settlement only. 5. Ferns and Mosses. 6. Prickle-bush, Gorse. A few bushes only near the houses. 7. Crowberry (Empetrum nigrum). 8. Nertera, bearing scarlet berries. 9. Blackberry. Scanty. 10. Cape-gooseberry. Once plentiful, now scarce. 11. Tea-plant (Chenopodium Tomentosum). 12. Wild Celery. 13. Large Field-Daisy. 14. Geranium (Pelargonium Australe). 15. Convolvolus. 16. Sunflower (Oxalis). 17. Buttercup. One patch only near Betty's house.

B. THE WEATHER

From Feb. 15, 1908, to March 31, 1909, the lowest temperature as recorded in a Stevenson's screen was 37'9 degrees (Aug. 16, 1908), and the highest 77'8 (March 14, 1909).

The Rainfall and Sunshine records are as follows:—

Rainfall Sun, all Sun, part Sun day of the day unrecorded

1907 inches days days days

June 4-30 4'990 5 19 0 July 9'635 4 18 3 August 8'020 4 21 0 September 7'465 7 11 1 October 7'660 9 13 0 November 6'015 11 14 1 December 2'975 4 1 24 _ 46'760

1908 January 4.565 11 12 0 February 6.105 10 12 0 March 4.360 7 17 2 April 7.605 14 8 1 May 4.305 9 21 0 June 5.775 0 25 0 July 4.800 5 21 0 August 6.325 8 18 0 September 6.630 3 21 0 October 6.675 11 9 0 November 2.440 11 8 0 December 5.255 10 10 0 _ 64.840

1909 January 3.060 7 19 0 February 4.720 11 7 3 March 5.295 9 14 1 _ 13.075

The following observations on the wind are derived from Andrea Repetto:—

The wind at Tristan generally changes from northward to westward or southward. The change begins with rain. A very light wind from the northward (NE. or N.) will spring up, and may last for a day or two; then it becomes unsettled and with rain changes to the westward. But this initial wind may come from the NW., W., SW., or S. This movement of the wind from the northward to westward or southward generally happens when the weather is settled and the wind is light, or in the warm season (spring, summer and autumn); but sometimes it happens in unsettled weather, in which case the rain pours down at once and the wind from the north lasts only a short time. When this northward wind begins in unsettled weather it changes to the south, as a rule, without staying at any of the intervening points, and does so with a heavy squall or shower. When the wind from the north is a light one it generally changes to a light one from the south; and when it is a heavy one from the north it generally changes to a heavy one from the south; this latter happens usually in the winter when the weather is for the most part unsettled.

In the warm season when the wind is very light it very often goes round the four cardinal points every twenty-four hours for a week together.

The wind hardly ever changes from the northward to the eastward. On the very rare occasions when it may do so, the wind being very variable, it never stands there but quickly returns to the northward.

The wind may instantly change (e.g. after one shower) from northward to south; and sometimes from here (the south) it goes to SE., where it may stay a week; if it gets as far as the east it will not stay for more than a day or two, but will go on to the NE.; but it does not get so far as the E. more than once in a year, and perhaps not for two years, and always without rain.

When the wind gradually changes from northward to the south it stays a short time in the west, then as the day advances in the SW., and gets to the S. in the evening, each of those three movements being preceded by squalls or showers. On reaching the S. it settles there for a day or two. If during this day or two there are showers a movement will begin. In the morning this movement will be without a shower from the S. to the W.; but in the evening it will be with a shower back from the W. (to which it had gone in the morning) to SW. or S. This movement may last for a week or two.

In fine weather when the wind springs from the northward the first day is generally fine and clear, then it becomes cloudy or dull for a day or even a fortnight; then it will change to the westward with a squall, or shower, or sometimes heavy rain.

The wind never changes from the S. to northward without first dying down either at once or gradually and without rain. But it may change from the SW. or W. to northward without dying down and without rain.

The wind from the E. which visits the Isle so seldom generally begins with rain, though in the lee it is clear and the sun is shining at the time. It lasts from two to six days at least.

When the SE. wind blows in unsettled weather, in the lee there will be sunshine and clear weather.

The winds from the W., SW., S. and SE. are dry winds. The other winds, especially N. and NE., are wet ones.

THE END