lad."

This was a successful parting shot from Thora. She well knew that
any lad in Orkney would envy her the discovery of a falcon's nest,
and that Tom, more than any other, would be jealous of her finding
what he might have searched for in vain.

"Just fancy that lass finding a harrier's nest!" he murmured as we
went along. "I wonder if it's true! I bet she only said that out of
spite because we would not let her come with us. But who wants a
slip of a girl at such work? She'd only frighten the seals and
prevent us from catching any. It's my opinion we have enough of the
girls in the school without them joining us in our sports. What do
you say, Ericson?"

"I don't know about that," I said. "For my part I shouldn't have
objected to Thora coming with us. As for the hen harrier, I don't
doubt that what she said was quite true. It's well known that she's
one of the best cliff climbers of us all."

"Tut! you always side with the lassies, Ericson. That's because
you're aye beside them at the head of the class. What was it that
old Duke gave her this morning? Was it a bawbee?"

"I took no notice of what it was, Tom," I replied. "But it was very
kind of him to give her anything."

"It was a sixpence he gave her," said Robbie Rosson. "I saw the
colour of it."

"A sixpence!" exclaimed Tom. "The sneak that she is! Let's go back
and make her give us a share of it."

"Get away, man," said Robbie. "What is it to us though the bailie
gave her a dozen sixpences? He'd have given it to any of us if we'd
been at the head of the class."

The discussion upon Thora ended here, and we continued our walk in
comparative silence.

Willie Hercus was waiting for us when we reached the hill of
Yeskenaby. Hercus was a barefooted, red-haired boy, with gray eyes
that were almost hidden in the fatness of his cheeks, and totally
so when he laughed, as he invariably did on the least provocation.
His brow and nose were covered with brown freckles, like a turkey's
egg; and he wore a large sea jacket that had belonged to his
father, one of the crew of the Curlew.

We walked leisurely along the brink of the Black Craigs--a line of
steep cliffs bordering the western portion of the Mainland. At
times a hoodie crow would fly across our path, or the red grouse be
startled from their nests in the freshly-budding heather; and sea
fowl in large numbers sailed gracefully over our heads or deep down
the cliffs, making the chasms echo with their ce