It is possible that the awe which the vow of Odin so recently inspired may have originated in the use of the stone for more dreadful purposes than the most solemn contract, sealed with imprecations derived from a barbarous Pagan creed; though little value can be attached to another tradition, described by Dr. Henry as still existing in his time,--that human victims destined for sacrifice were bound to the perforated column, preparatory to their slaughter as an acceptable offering to the terrible god. Another stone, on the north side of the island of Shapinshay, bears the name of the Black Stone of Odin; but no definite associations are now attached to it, and its sole value is as the march stone between the grounds of two conterminous heritors.[127] A more trustworthy tradition ascribed peculiar virtues to the Stennis Stone, manifestly corresponding with those referred to by Borlase in connexion with one at Maddern, and denounced in ancient Anglo-Saxon laws. According to this a child passed through the hole would never shake with palsy in old age. The practice exhibits a sagacious anticipation of future ills, the hole being too small to admit of the remedy being made available when most required. A view of this remarkable memorial of ancient manners and superstitious rites, is given in Lady Stafford's "Views in Orkney, and on the North-eastern Coast of Scotland," drawn in 1805, and has been copied as one of the illustrations for the Abbotsford edition of the Pirate. But the stone itself no longer exists. After having survived the waste of centuries, until it had nearly outlived the last traditionary remembrance of the strange rites with which it had once been associated, it was barbarously destroyed by a neighbouring farmer, in the year 1814, along with two stones of the adjacent semicircle. Had it not been for the interference of Mr. Malcolm Laing, the historian, the whole group of Stennis would have been broken down as building materials for the ignorant Goth's cow-sheds. The act was the less culpable, perhaps, as the perpetrator was a stranger who had only recently taken up his abode in Orkney. It affords proof, however, that the native reverence for the venerable memorial had not entirely disappeared, that its unfortunate destroyer's life was rendered miserable by the petty persecutions with which the natives sought to revenge the destruction of their sacramental stone. So far, indeed, was this manifestation of popular indignation carried, that various conspiracies are said to have been formed to injure him, and two different attempts were made to set fire to his dwelling and property;[128] a sufficiently manifest token that the old spirit of veneration for the stone of Odin was not unknown to the modern Orcadian.