Shetland Folk-Lore
The ocean mirror reflects the many-tinted cloudlets sprinkled o'er the vault of heaven. The sun has set to us, and his golden rays have ceased to dance o'er the ripples; but Pobies' brow, still bathed in a flood of crimson light, sphinx-like rising from the waters, peers framwards like a sentinel of Night. No human being is in sight; a lazy-looking gull alone bears us company. Six weary hours of toil have passed since the crew had their last meal, and now they prepare to take supper. The skipper opens the buggie (a hag made of sheepskin), and takes out three biddies (very thick oatcakes), each of which he cuts in halves with his sköne (sea-knife). Handing a piece to each man, he expresses himself very reverently in the following terms: “Gude hadd Dy haand ower wis. Open da mooth o' da mamik (a ling having a roe), an' bring wis safe ta da kaavies (land).” Here was a prayer to God for preservation, guidance, and
success, in a few syllables, more compre-
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