Once, when crossing an extra bad place, full of boulders and in a flooded condition, his pony got on the top of a flat rock under water; when he went to crawl down on the other side, there was the inevitable hole from back-wash--down went the pony, the jerk pulling Fred over on to his ears--I thought he must have fallen into the boiling cauldron--No; a short scramble, the pony righted himself and there was Fred as peaceful as ever, didn't even look round! When we were safe on the far side, I said to him, 'If you had gone off then, you would not have stopped till you got to the sea.' His reply was, 'Yes, but I didn't.' "I was very anxious to get on to the Island of Grimsey, one of the European breeding places of the Little Auk. It is situated some sixty-five miles from Akureyri, and I was told motor fishing-boats went there sometimes. I told our guide to telephone on and find out if such a boat could be hired, the reply came back that a small one would be available. The terms were settled, and the boat was to be ready the following evening, to start by 9 p.m. About 8 o'clock, we went to the quay to inspect our ship, when to my horror I was shown a single-cylinder thing not as large as a moderate Thames pleasure-launch, a free-board about 10 inches, no cabin, no deck. I'm bound to confess my heart failed me, it didn't seem quite good enough to trust ourselves to a sixty-five mile trip in a little tub with two youths (one of whom had a withered hand) and a very doubtful looking compass! Not so Fred, he never raised the least objection to a North Sea trip in a ship dependent on a single plug, which might become sooty any moment! In due time we started, and after watching the midnight sun, my shipmate remarked, 'I think I shall turn in.' 'Turn in where?' 'Oh, the cockpit will do.' It was full of rusty old chains, he could just get into it and lie curled up in a sort of knot on the rug, and here he passed a dreamless night, never moving until I called him as the boat touched land about 8.30 a.m. On landing, the first thing was to find out where the Little Auk might breed. The Parson told us he knew a man skilled in such matters. With a total population of 72 souls, 13 of which were belonging to the Parson, it ought not to be difficult to find the tastes of any unit of the congregation (especially after eighteen years' residence). In a short time a fisherman arrived with a coil of rope and a crowbar; the latter he drove into the ground, tied the rope to it and heaved the end over the rock. Our friendly Parson then waved towards the sea, remarking, 'There you are, how do you like it? The birds breed in the rocks at the bottom.' Honestly I did _not_ like it, but Fred remarked, 'Thank you, that will do well,' and without another word seized