Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Arctic regions -- Juvenile fiction
"What is far more valuable to us, my lad--coal. Yes," he added, as he
examined the specimen which he had picked up, "and good, soft,
bituminous coal, too. Why, Steve, this is going to be a land of plenty
for us. A coal vein cropping out of the cliff-side, ready for us to
come with picks, sacks, and sledges to carry off as much as we like."
"She's pit petter coal than tat into the galley fire," said Watty, who
had followed the example of the others and picked up a piece to examine.
"Leuks brown, Meester Stevey. Does she thenk it wud burn?"
"We'll try as soon as we get a deer to roast, Watty."
"Hey, leuk at tat!" cried the lad, as a shadow was cast upon the rock
wall, and a huge owl floated by on its soft pinions, staring hard at the
human visitors to its solitude with its large round eyes, and then
proceeded to perch upon a ledge high above their heads, and strip and
devour a speckled bird which it had in its claws.
"Hey, look at tat!" cried Watty, whose excitement bubbled over at every
fresh thing he saw. "She got ta white speckled grouse fra off the
mountain-side. She's seen ta grouse like tat on Ben Cruachan."
"Ptarmigan, Handscombe," said the captain, as the white and browny-grey
plumage of the unfortunate bird came floating down from where the
eagle-owl was preparing its meal.
"Yes, ptarmigan, sure enough," said the doctor. "Come along; we must
knock over a few of these if we don't find any deer. Shall I shoot the
owl?"
"No, let it rest; we can't eat it, and we are too busy to care for
preserving specimens. Make a note, though, of our having seen these two
birds to-day. I want to make out how wide the coal seam is, and whether
it would be easy to work. Here, my lad, give some one else that gun,
and climb up and tell me how wide that coal is. You can get up there."
"She got oop and teukit an eagle's nest ance by Ballachulish," replied
the boy; and readily enough he climbed from stone to stone, with the
huge owl ceasing its preparation of its dinner and glaring down at him.
"Their tameness is shocking to me," quoted the doctor, as he saw Watty
climb and the owl watch him come nearer and nearer, till all at once the
great white-and-grey-plumed bird dropped the ptarmigan, made a rapid
silent stoop unseen by the lad, struck at his head with claws and wings,
and sailed away again silently, leaving the bonnet with its flowers
falling more quickly than Watty, who lost his hold, and came rolling,
scrambling, and tumbling down, till, scratched, bruised, and breathless,
he fell quite at his companions' feet.
"Wha' did tat?" he shouted furiously, as he sprang up with his eyes
flashing; and he gazed from Steve to the doctor and back, as their
anxious look changed now to one of mirth on finding that the boy was not
much hurt.
"Did what?" cried Steve in suffocated tones.
"Threw a big lump of turf and knockit off her bonnet."
"Haud your whisht, laddie," growled Andrew. "Naebody threw a turf, for
there isna turf to throw."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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