Los Angeles herald., 1907-12-08
Copyright by James Elverson.,

Copyright by James Elverson.)
a lEVEN o'clock on a fine April morn
ing; the green hills Of Shetland ris-
- ing in endless curves against the
bright morning sky; half dozen
tiny white sails fitting over the
blue waters of Lerwick Sound, now
all ahlaze with the glory of the sunrise; the
nightly cliffs of Bressa Island towering ap
beyond it, black and grim as the wall OF
some ancient castle, and all around, along the
distant horizon the broad, bright smoothness
OF the North Sea, now calm and beautiful as
it storms and shipwrecks were things un-
known.
Tramp, tramp away we go, my guide and
l, over the ridge after of dark, ,heathery
hill, now meeting red-capped fisherman,
who is coming back from his nights work
with big basket of fish on his shoulder;
now coming plump into the midst Of herd
and whisk their funny little heads about as
ard whisk their funny little heads about au
inviting us to stop and have a game with
them.
And indeed, it seems just the day for a
frolic Of any SORT Who would be shut up IN
q stifling cabin or a crowded railway carriage
with such hills as these to stride over on this
glorious spring morning, whose freshness and
brightness make the mere sense of living an
enjo. ment?
But where are we now? Surely not across
the whole Island of Bressa already! Indeed,
we are, for my companion, despite his gray
hair and wrinkled face, is sturdy old fellow,
aud goes at a pace that would tire out many
a younger man.
At our feet lies the narrow strait separat-
ing Bressa from the smaller islet of Hoss,
which surges up against the sunny sky In
one great wave of dark gray hill and here,
warned by my guides shout, comes the ferry
man, who pulls US across with half a dozen
powerful strokes.
thinkin', Pate-in-Peril,' says he, in broad
Scotch.
My companion answers only with a grin,
and away we go, ".o'er braeken-bush and
heather" upward, ever upward, startling at
every turn scores of rabbits, with which the
whole place seems alive. Indeed, they may
be said to constitute its entire population, for
the only other inhabitants of the islet are a
shepherd and his dog
"What did he mean by calling you Pate
in-Peril?" asked /, instinctiyely divining the
presence of good story under this queer
nickname.
'sWeel, sir, yen just wait wee, wen
soon be at the tap a. the hill, and I'll tell ye
the tale on the vera place where it happen
ed"
The "tap O. the hill' is soon reached, and
it almost seems as if we had reached the end
of the world likewise.
Around and below US there is nothing but
empty air, while the slope that we have just
mounted shoots down in one sheer precipiee
Of black, frowning rock, into the open sea,
six hundred feet below.
Family to our ears comes the boom of the
restless breakers, as they chafe and foam
around the base of that tremendous wall, and
halfway down the rocky ledges are white
with countless seabirds, which, disturbed at
our approach, rise by thousands in the air,
with rush like the charge of an army, max
ing the cliffs echo with their shrill, unearthly
cries
sNoo, Master Ker," says the old Shetland
er. seating himself on the very brink of the
precipice, with his feet actually hanging over
il, as coolly as if he were in an armchair, "do
We sec yon rock stickin' oot doom there, like
the thatch o. a hoos,j just where thae twa white
brides are perching? Weel, that was where
it a. happened, and this was the way OF;
''When / was young lad was awful
yenturesome, and less wad ma serve me but /
must be fowler, like my father before me.
Mony bright shillin' did get by marrying
the kittiewaikes and guillemots' nests among
these rocks that ye see; and at last / got to
be sac good at it, that a. the folk cad me
Fowler Pate'-Pate being short for Patrick,
We ken.
Weel. one day there cam grand Eng