struck the water and the craft moved majestically out of
the harbour. They seemed to have come into a land of good-will toward
all mankind; high and low vying with each other to make their stay as
pleasant as possible.

"Losh, Jamie," said the king to his friend two or three days after
their arrival, "I might well have ignored your advice about the ships,
as I did your base counsel about the army. I need no fleet here to
protect me in Skye where every man is my friend."

"That is very true," replied MacDonald, "but you must not forget that
no one has any suspicion who you are. Everyone is a friend of James
Stuart of the Lowlands, but I hear nobody say a good word for the
king."

"What have they against him?" asked the Guidman of Ballengeich with a
frown, for it was not complimentary to hear that in a part of his own
dominion he was thought little of.

[Illustration: "THE STRANGERS WERE MOST HOSPITABLY ENTERTAINED, AND
ENTERED THOROUGHLY INTO THE SPIRIT OF THE FESTIVITIES."]

"It isn't exactly that they have anything against the king," said
MacDonald, perhaps not slow to prick the self-esteem of his comrade,
"but they consider him merely a boy, of small weight in their affairs
one way or another. They neither fear him nor respect him. The real
monarch of these regions is the humpback in Dunvegan Castle; and even
if they knew you were the king, your sternest command would have no
effect against his slightest wish, unless you had irresistible force
at the back of you."

"Ah, Jamie, you are simply trying to justify the bringing of the fleet
round Scotland."

"Indeed and I am not. The only use to which you can put your fleet
will be to get you away from here in case of trouble. As far as its
force is concerned, these islanders would simply take to the hills and
defy it."

"Ah, well," said the king, "I'll make them think better of me before I
am done with them."

The week's festivities were to end with a grand poetical contest. All
the bards of the island were scribbling; at any rate, those who could
write. The poets who had not that gift were committing their verses to
memory that they might be prepared to recite them before the judges,
three famous minstrels, who were chosen from three districts on the
island, thus giving variety and a chance of fairness to their
decisions.

The king resolved to enter this competition, and he employed MacDonald
every evening translating into the language of Skye, the poem whic