d to be unfurled when the tide of battle was turning
against the Macleods, and which always had the effect of again turning
it in their favour.

Again getting under weigh, we sailed round the northern end of Skye, up
the Sound of Raasay, between the small island of that name and Skye, to
Portree. It stands on the end of a point of land, far up a deep
harbour, and is a picturesque-looking place.

Here we had a long discussion as to our future proceedings. It was
finally settled that Uncle Tom should sail round the north of Scotland
in the Dolphin, while we were to go south again, and through the
Caledonian Canal, waiting for him off Fort George, at the mouth of the
Moray Firth.

Early in the morning we sailed with the Dolphin, to accompany her as far
as the Island of Rona, to the north of Raasay, where we looked into a
curious little loch, at the head of which is a farm-house. The owner--
as is the case with most people residing on that shore--had been a
seafaring man. He had gone away to Skye, and was expected back by his
loving wife, when a furious gale arose. To light him on his way, she
had been accustomed to place a large lamp in the window of the cottage,
which looked down on the loch. On that night she trimmed it with double
care. In vain, however, she sat and watched; hour after hour passed by
as she waited, expecting to hear her husband's cheerful voice as he came
on shore, calling out to her amid the howling storm; but in vain she
watched. Day dawned, and the little vessel had not reached her
accustomed moorings. The next night her lamp was lighted as usual.
When the storm abated, tidings came that portions of a wrecked vessel
had been picked up on the shore; but she hoped against hope that it
might not be her husband's craft. Still, though he came not, she
lighted the lamp. Night after night, and month after month, that bright
light streamed forth from the solitary cottage on the beach; and many a
storm-tossed vessel owed its safety to that unpretending beacon. At
length the Scottish Commissioners of Lighthouses heard of this volunteer
lighthouse. An annual sum of money was voted for its support, and the
widow received a lamp with reflectors, with a supply of oil to keep her
lamp burning. The commissioners paid her and her family a visit; and,
though years have passed, that lamp burns as brightly as ever.

As papa wished Oliver to see the Caledonian Canal, he had returned on
board the Lively.