As we walked along one of these, we were surprised by the appearance of smoke curling through the trees; and we soon after came to a little cottage, in a very solitary part of the forest. Frederick ran on, “to discover,” he said, “whether it contained a giant, ready to devour us with fee, fau, fum, or some hermit who had retired to this sequestered spot, to expiate his crimes in solitude and silence.”
We soon followed, and instead of either giant or hermit, there was a poor man almost blind, employed in making a basket, while his daughter, a pretty looking young woman about twenty, sat within, engaged in needlework; and the house, though one of the poorest that I have seen, looked clean and airy. But as it is built against a sloping bank, it must be damp, I think—and his daughter has rather a delicate appearance, and looks pensive, as if she was not in good health.
I was very much interested in observing the method by which he made his basket. It was not made of willow, which I thought was always used; so we inquired what the material was, and I was surprised to find that it was oak. He splits the wood into long strips when it is quite fresh, or after it has been soaking in water for some time; these strips are about an inch broad, and being only a tenth of an inch thick, they are so pliable, that he weaves them without difficulty. The shape of his basket was circular, with a flat bottom. A sort of skeleton frame is made first, of stronger slips of wood; then the long thin pieces are woven in and out, close together; and the ends are neatly fastened under each other. It seemed a tedious work; he is to have half a crown for the basket he is now making, for a washerwoman; and as it is more than two days’ employment, his gain is but very small.
He lost his sight many years ago in the mines, and though never idle, he cannot easily support himself. I believe his wife is dead. He says he has lived in that place several years; and I understand that the inhabitants of the Forest of Deane have certain privileges in regard to taxes, that make it a very desirable residence to a poor man.
My uncle is to go in a few days to bespeak some of those baskets, and I hope to walk there with him: it will have been very happy for this poor man that we found him; for my uncle and aunt will certainly be of use to him. They assist the industrious very much; and all they do for the poor, is done in such a kind and cheerful manner, that it doubles the favour.
24th.—This morning brought another letter from Hertford—it has been delayed on its road, for it was written several weeks ago. Here are some extracts from it: perhaps they may entertain you, as he describes his visit to the little island of North Rona.
“It is accessible in one spot only, and that with difficulty. The landing place is on an irregular cliff, and you must watch for the moment to jump out on the first ledge of rock to which the boat is lifted by the waves. It is a perilous operation to remove sheep from this island; the animal being slung by the legs round the neck of a man, and thus carried down the face of a rock, where a false step exposes him to the risk of being either strangled or drowned.
“The violence and height of the waves, which in winter break over the island, are almost incredible. The dykes of the sheep-folds are often thrown down; and stones of enormous bulk are removed from their places, at elevations of 200 feet above the high-water mark. It is inhabited by one family only, who cultivate it, and tend about fifty sheep. Twice in the year that part of the crop which is not consumed on the farm, together with the sheep’s wool, and the feathers obtained from the sea-fowl, which these poor people are bound to procure, are taken away by the boat to Lewis, and thus some little intercourse with the external world is preserved. But they are so little accustomed to the appearance of any one but the proprietor of the island, that when we appeared, the women and children were seen running away to the cliffs to hide themselves, loaded with whatever moveable property they possessed, while the man and his son began to drive away the sheep. A few words of Gaëlic recalled the men, but it was sometime before the females ventured from their retreat, and when they did, the impression they made on us was not very favourable to the progress of civilization in Rona; the mistress of the family would have ill stood a comparison with Iliglaik, whose accomplishments are so well described by Captain Lyon.
“Not even the solid Highland hut can withstand the violence of the wind in this region. The dwelling is, therefore, excavated in the earth, the wall requisite for the support of the roof scarcely rising two feet above the surface, and the whole is surrounded with turf stacks to ward off the gales. The entrance to this subterranean retreat is through a long winding passage, like the gallery of a mine, commencing by an aperture not three feet high, and very difficult to find. Were it not for the smoke, the existence of a house could never be suspected; indeed, we had been talking to its possessor for some time, before we discovered that we were actually standing on the top of his castle. Like a Kamtschatkan hut, it receives no other light than that from the smoke hole; it is floored with ashes, and festooned and ornamented with strings of dried fish. Its inmates, however, appeared to be contented and well fed, and little concerned about what the rest of the world was doing; they seemed to know of no other world than North Rona, and the chief seemed to wish for little that North Rona could not supply. The great object of his wishes was to get his two younger children baptised, for no people are more zealous in the observance of their religious duties than the Highlanders; and even in that dreary solitude, this poor man had not forgotten his.”
I am quite established now as one of the dressing-room party. A nice little table has been allotted to my use, and I shall be very comfortable as well as happy.