shore had scored.  We should have liked to have fired another shot, but by the time the laughter had subsided we were out of range.  We did not expect to be on the way more than three or four hours, as the distance was only about twenty-four miles; but we did not reach Thurso until late in the afternoon, and we should have been later if we had had a less skilful skipper.  In the first place we had an unfavourable wind, which prevented our sailing by the Hoy Sound, the shortest and orthodox route, and this caused us to miss the proper sea view of the “Old Man of Hoy,” which the steamboat from Stromness to Thurso always passed in close proximity, but we could perceive it in the distance as an insular Pillar of Rock, standing 450 feet high with rocks in vicinity rising 1,000 feet, although we could not see the arch beneath, which gives it the appearance of standing on two legs, and hence the name given to the rock by the sailors.  The Orcadean poet writes: 

  See Hoy’s Old Man whose summit bare
  Pierces the dark blue fields of air;
  Based in the sea, his fearful form
  Glooms like the spirit of the storm.

[Illustration:  “OLD MAN OF HOY.”]

When pointing out the Old Man to us, the captain said that he stood in the roughest bit of sea round the British coast, and the words “wind and weather permitting” were very applicable when stoppages wore contemplated at the Old Man or other places in these stormy seas.

We had therefore to sail by way of Lang Hope, which we supposed was a longer route, and we were astonished at the way our captain handled his boat; but when we reached what we thought was Lang Hope, he informed the passengers that he intended to anchor here for some time, and those who wished could be ferried ashore.  We had decided to remain on the boat, but when the captain said there was an inn there where refreshments could be obtained, my brother declared that he felt quite hungry, and insisted upon our having a second breakfast.  We were therefore rowed ashore, and were ushered into the parlour of the inn as if we were the lords of the manor and sole owners, and were very hospitably received and entertained.  The inn was appropriately named the “Ship,” and the treatment we received was such as made us wish we were making a longer stay, but time and tide wait for no man.

  For the next inn he spurs amain,
  In haste alights, and scuds away—­
  But time and tide for no man stay.

[Illustration:  THE SHIP INN, LANG HOPE.  The sign has now been removed to a new hotel, visible in the photograph, on the opposite side of the ferry.]