Donald MacLeod affirmed that they lived at least for two days upon horse flesh. Here Malcolm did not fully agree with him, and after some little debate betwixt them Malcolm qualified the expression and told me I might write down that the beef they got was so very bad and black that they could not take it for anything else but horse flesh or carrion. Upon this Donald smiled and said, 'Well, Malcolm, how much have you mended the matter?' When Donald was asked how such beef went down with them, he replied, 'O what is it that will not go down wi' a hungry stomack? I can assure you we made no scruple to eat anything that came in our way.'
[fol. 314.] Almost all those that were in the same ship with Donald and Malcolm were once so sick that they could scarce stretch out their hands to one another. Old MacKinnon, one of their companions, held out wonderfully, although a man upwards of 70. He was only about eight days in such a way that he needed one to help him up in the morning; while others much younger, and to all appearances stronger too, were dying by pairs, as at last there was a general sickness that raged among all the prisoners on board the different ships, which could not fail to be the case when (as both Donald and Malcolm positively affirmed) they were sometimes fed with the beeves that had died of the disease which was then raging amongst the horned cattle in England.
When Donald and Malcolm were talking of the barbarous usage they themselves and others met with, they used to say, 'God forgie them; but God lat them never die till we have them in the same condition they had us, and we are sure we would not treat them as they treated us. We would show them the difference between a good and a bad cause.'
Donald MacLeod spoke very much good of Mr. James Falconar, a Scots non-jurant clergyman, and Charles Allan, son of Hary Allan in Leith. He said that Charles Allan behaved exceedingly well in his distress, and had very much of [fol. 315.] the gentleman about him, and that he was in a state of sickness for some time. He said that Mr. Falconar was scarce ever any way ill in his health, that he bore up better than any one of them, having a great fund of spirits, being always chearful, and never wanting something to say to divert them in their state of darkness and misery. He added that he did not know a better man, or one of greater courage and resolution in distress.
Donald desired me to take notice that he was set at liberty (out of a messenger's house in London, where he had been but a short time) upon a most happy day, the 10th of June 1747.[145]
June
Donald has got in a present a large silver snuff-box prettily chessed, from his good friend, Mr. John Walkingshaw of London, which serves as an excellent medal of his history, as it has engraven upon it the interesting adventure, with proper mottos, etc. The box is an octagon oval of three inches and three quarters in length, three inches in breadth, and an inch and a quarter in depth, and the inside of it is doubly gilt. Upon the lid is raised the eight-oar'd boat, with Donald at the helm, and the four under his care, together with the eight rowers distinctly represented. The sea is made to appear very [fol. 316.] rough and tempestuous. Upon one of the extremities of the lid there is a landskip of the Long Isle, and the boat is just steering into Rushness, the point of Benbicula where they landed. Upon the other extremity of the lid there is a landskip of the end of the Isle of Sky, as it appears opposite to the Long Isle. Upon this representation of Sky are marked these two places, viz., Dunvegan and Gualtergill. Above the boat the clouds are represented heavy and lowring, and the rain is falling from them. The motto above the clouds, i.e. round the edge of the lid by the hinge, is this—Olim hæc meminisse juvabit—Aprilis 26to 1746. The inscription under the sea, i.e. round the edge of the lid by the opening, is this—Quid, Neptune, paras? Fatis agitamur iniquis. Upon the bottom of the box are carved the following words—Donald MacLeod of Gualtergill, in the Isle of Sky, the faithfull Palinurus, Æt.68, 1746. Below these words there is very prettily engraved a dove, with an olive branch in her bill.
When Donald came first to see me, along with Deacon Clark, I asked him why he had not snuff in the pretty box? 'Sneeshin in that box!' said Donald. 'Na, the deel a pickle sneeshin shall ever go into it till the K—— be restored, and then (I trust in God) I'll go to London, and then will I put [fol. 317.] sneeshin in the box and go to the Prince, and say, "Sir, will you tak a sneeshin out o' my box?"'