Our Fifth And Last Day's Journey Was A Long One Of Forty Miles, Yet Near Cape Traverse Our Horse Ran Away Down A Steep Hill, And Across A Long Wooden Bridge Without A Parapet, Thereby Placing Our Lives In Imminent Jeopardy.

After travelling for several hours we came to a lone house, where we hoped to get some refreshment both for ourselves and the horse, but found the house locked, a remarkable fact, as in this island robbery is almost unknown.

We were quite exhausted with hunger, and our hearts sank when we found every door and window closed. We then, as an act of mercy, stole a sheaf of oats from a neighbouring field, and cut the ears off for the horse with our penknives, after which we, in absolute hunger, ate as many grains as we could clean from the husks, and some fern, which we found very bitter. We looked very much like a group of vagrants sitting by the road-side, the possession of the oats being disputed with us by five lean pigs. When after another hour we really succeeded in getting something more suitable for human beings, we ate like famished creatures.

While I was walking up a long hill, I passed a neat cabin in a garden of pumpkins, placed in a situation apparently chosen from its extreme picturesqueness. Seeing an old man, in a suit of grey frieze and a blue bonnet, standing at the gate, I addressed him with the words, "Cia mar thasibh an diugh." "Slan gu robh math agaibh.

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