Folk-Lore
hensive and sincere than that uttered by the learned upstaander (minister). This humble meal of dry bread is washed down with a drink of blaand (a kind of whey made from buttermilk), after which the snuff-horn is passed round, and every man takes a pinch. It is noticeable that the crew in their conversation seldom give a negative reply. Instead of their saying “No,” we hear by-ye-blithe.
It is now the swaar o' dim (midnight), and time to haul the tows, The east tide has saaged (ceased to flow), and the lines have got the wast turnin'. The distant hilltops are no longer visible. A thin veil of ask (haze) hangs o'er the horizon. We are now alone on the wide waste of waters. The gull that kept us company has gone to roost in the distant maa-craig. Nothing living can be seen save the occasional glint of a petrel footing the ripples.
Two of the crew, preparing to haul (or hail, as it is commonly pronounced), dress
themselves in their leather jubs and barm
133
