As we should expect from a seafaring race, the Norsemen have left us a very liberal heritage of names for the various natural features of our shores. Projecting points of land are called “ness” or “moul” or “taing,” according to their configuration, and even the less prominent rocks are still known as “clett” or “skerry,” or bear other names which were originally simple descriptions of their peculiar forms. In the same way descriptive names were applied to the water features, and every “voe” and “sound,” every “hope” and “geo” have names which offer us a fine field for study. In dealing with this last class of names, there are two Norse words which may cause us some trouble—_hella_, a flat rock, and _hellir_, a cave, both of which appear in place-names as _hellya_, while a third word _helgr_, holy, sometimes assumes the same form. It is impossible to determine what the original form and meaning of a name have been unless we examine the place as well as its name. In studying our place-names, we ought to remember that the correct names are those that are used by the old people who live in the district, not those that are found on the map, or are used by people who adopt the pronunciation suggested by the spelling. By means of the knowledge of a few dozen common Norse roots, and a careful examination of the places to which the names belong, most of our old-fashioned place-names may be made to yield up their ancient meanings, and to throw some light upon the past condition of the islands. When studied in this way, our place-names are seen to be fragments of fossil history, organic remains of an early stratum of society, as eloquent of the past as are the geological fossils of the early ages of plant and animal life. [Illustration: _At the quern._] Part III.—Nature Lore. THE STORY OF THE ROCKS. “Sermons in Stones.” A stone quarry is a common enough object in Orkney—so common, indeed, that we may never have taken any interest in it. Yet this common quarry is a place where we may learn some strange facts about the making of our islands, if we visit it in the spirit of one who “Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.” The quarrymen begin their work by clearing away the “redd” from the rock beneath. First they remove the soil. This is dark in colour, not very rich or deep, perhaps, and not so black as the more fertile soils of other lands. Yet it contains the plant-food which nourishes our crops, and thus nourishes ourselves. The particles are fine and loose, and the soil is traversed everywhere by the small rootlets of plants. The dark colour is due to the decayed substance of past crops of plants, which largely consists of carbon. We must try to find out how this soil, which is so precious to the farmer, has been formed.