was creeping up to the base of the cliffs.

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



Chapter VIII. Dividing The Spoil.


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

The evening was growing late, and there were still half a dozen
miles of rough moorland between Ramna and Stromness. Over the braes
of Borwick we travelled at a steady pace. We were light of heart,
for we had had a successful expedition, as was proved not only by
our dead falcon and the two seals' skins, but, more than all, by
the great wealth that those seals' skins carried.

Many were our conjectures as to the meaning of that great horde of