Next morning there was a terrible noise and row on deck, and a dire rattling of chains, and a shouting of words of command, and when Rory ran up to see what was the matter he found that the anchor had just been let go, and that they were lying in Bressay Sound, right abreast of the strangely picturesque little town of Lerwick.
“As soon,” said Captain McBain, “as we’ve had breakfast we’ll go on shore. You can make the best of your time, and enjoy yourselves all you can. There is lots to see, and ponies to ride that I reckon will tax all your equestrian powers, but mind you’re off by three o’clock. There is nothing to keep us here, and we’ll weigh again this afternoon.”
“But aren’t you going to be with us?” asked Rory.
“Nay, boy, nay,” replied McBain. “I go to pick up another passenger; and one, too, whose presence on board is bound to affect for evil or for good our voyage to the far north.”
“Dear me!” said Rory, “a bit of mystery, is it? Well, that makes it all the more romantic; but get ready, boys, get ready. I, for one, mean to make a regular forenoon of it. I want to see the pony I can’t ride, that’s all.”
Chapter Ten.
Onshore in Shetland—A Family of Guides—A Wild Ride and a Primitive Lunch—Westward Ho!—Racing a Whale.
“What shall we do and where shall we go?” These were the questions which naturally presented themselves for solution to our three heroes, on first stepping out of their boat on Lerwick beach.