Part 36 (1/2)
”Are you forty-nine, Shane? You don't seem thirty-nine. None could tell but for the little gray in your hair.... And Shane....”
”Yes!”
”I like your hair rumpled a little with the sea-air ... much better than when it is sleek in Antrim.... Shane, you don't know how well you look on board s.h.i.+p.”
”Ooh, be d.a.m.ned to that.... Mr. Janseen, get them to lay aft, and see if you can't get a little more out of that mizzen.... A little more pocket in the luff.” ...
-- 14
They pa.s.sed the b.u.t.t of Lewis, sailing due sou'west.... To port they left the Seven Hunters, changing the course to sou'west by sou'.... The Hebrides pa.s.sed them like islands in a dream, purple, gleaming strangely in the sunlight, now a black shower whipping over them, now suns.h.i.+ne pouring in great floods.... Lewis went by, and then Harris.... North Uist where the winds blow so hard they have an old word: _Is traugh fear na droiche air mhachair Uistibh_: 'Tis a pity of the s.l.u.t's husband on the plains of Uist.... You'll be needing b.u.t.tons on your coat there....
They pa.s.sed Rona of the Seals, and Benbecula.... They pa.s.sed South Uist and Eriskay.... They pa.s.sed the Ponboy Isles.... The islands of the Cat they called them in Gaelic.... Faintly they saw the mists of Hecla ...
heard the curlews.... They saw fis.h.i.+ng-boats with great brown sails....
Honk-honk of wild ganders in the distance, and occasionally the _chugh_ of a diving bird.... The wind blew from the nor'west.... The foam snarled beneath the bows....
”I don't like it.... I don't like it....”
”Shane, it is wonderful.... G.o.d is with us.”
”Hunh....” He saw the weather leaches flick.... ”Don't let her come up,”
he roared at the helmsman. ”Steer her, you Swede b.a.s.t.a.r.d.... Where the h.e.l.l did you ever steer before? On a ca.n.a.l?”
”Shane!”
”What is it, Granya?”
”Your language, Shane!”
”Listen, Granya.... I'm not playing a comedy.... I'm sailing a s.h.i.+p ...
that's on an errand I don't like.... If you don't like my language, get below....”
”Sorry, Shane!” She said with a meek courtesy. She stayed....
They pa.s.sed Skerryvore.... They pa.s.sed Dhu Heartach, Colonsay, Islay of McCrimmin.... Iristrahull was on the weather beam.... They swung eastward.... Irishowen Head showed off the port bow.... On an August afternoon, they slipped into Lough Foyle....
-- 15
The soft luminosity of a summer night was in it ... and a little moon, which Shane d.a.m.ned.... Before them rose the outline of Donegal.... On each beam they could see faintly the outlines of the bay's arms.... The schooner moved under jibs and mizzen.... From the bow was the splash of the lead....
”By the mark, fine!”
”Luff her a little, a little more ... steady!”
”Four fathoms, no bottom!”
”Keep her off a point!”