greater or less
extent, where the soil cannot be supposed to want depth, though it is too
wet for the plow. But we did not observe in these any aquatick plants.
The vallies and the mountains are alike darkened with heath. Some grass,
however, grows here and there, and some happier spots of earth are
capable of tillage.

Their agriculture is laborious, and perhaps rather feeble than unskilful.
Their chief manure is seaweed, which, when they lay it to rot upon the
field, gives them a better crop than those of the Highlands. They heap
sea shells upon the dunghill, which in time moulder into a fertilising
substance. When they find a vein of earth where they cannot use it, they
dig it up, and add it to the mould of a more commodious place.

Their corn grounds often lie in such intricacies among the craggs, that
there is no room for the action of a team and plow. The soil is then
turned up by manual labour, with an instrument called a crooked spade, of
a form and weight which to me appeared very incommodious, and would
perhaps be soon improved in a country where workmen could be easily found
and easily paid. It has a narrow blade of iron fixed to a long and heavy
piece of wood, which must have, about a foot and a half above the iron, a
knee or flexure with the angle downwards. When the farmer encounters a
stone which is the great impediment of his operations, he drives the
blade under it, and bringing the knee or angle to the ground, has in the
long handle a very forcible lever.

According to the different mode of tillage, farms are distinguished into
long land and short land. Long land is that which affords room for a
plow, and short land is turned up by the spade.

The grain which they commit to the furrows thus tediously formed, is
either oats or barley. They do not sow barley without very copious
manure, and then they expect from it ten for one, an increase equal to
that of better countries; but the culture is so operose that they content
themselves commonly with oats; and who can relate without compassion,
that after all their diligence they are to expect only a triple increase?
It is in vain to hope for plenty, when a third part of the harvest must
be reserved for seed.

When their grain is arrived at the state which they must consider as
ripeness, they do not cut, but pull the barley: to the oats they apply
the sickle. Wheel carriages they have none, but make a frame of timber,
which is drawn by one hors