THE ISLET

and afraid to look longer at so empty a scene. What
with my wet clothes and weariness, and my belly that
now began to ache with hunger, I had enough to trouble
me without that. So | set off eastward along the south
coast, hoping to find a house where I might warm my-
self, and perhaps get news of those I had lost. And at
the worst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry
my clothes.

After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or in-
let of the sea, which seemed to run pretty deep into the
land; and as I had no means to get across, I must needs
change my direction to go about the end of it. It was
still the roughest kind of walking; indeed the whole,
not only of Earraid, but of the neighbouring part of Mull
(which they call the Ross) is nothing but a jumble of
granite rocks with heather in among. At first the creek
kept narrowing as | had looked to see; but presently to
my surprise it began to widen out again. At this I
scratched my head, but had still no notion of the truth:
until at last ] came to a rising ground, and it burst upon
me all in a moment that I was cast upon a little barren
isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas.

Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to
rain, with a thick mist; so that my case was lamen
table.

I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what
to do, till it occurred to me that perhaps the creek was
fordable. Back I went to the narrowest point and
waded in. But not three yards from shore, I plumped
in head over ears; and if ever 1 was heard of more, it
was rather by God’s grace than my own prudence. I

was no wetter (for that could hardly be), but I was all
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