nae water to drink like the water in the hills.
I maun be settin' out back the morn, if the Lord spares me."

I mindit fine that the body wad tak nae drink like an honest man, but
maun aye draibble wi' burn water, and noo he had got the thing on the
brain. I never spak a word, for the maitter was bye ony mortal's aid.

For lang he sat quiet. Then he lifts his heid and looks awa ower the
grey sea. A licht for a moment cam intil his een.

"Whatna big water's yon?" he said, wi' his puir mind aye rinnin' on
waters.

"That's the Solloway," says I.

"The Solloway," says he; "it's a big water, and it wad be an ill job to
ford it."

"Nae man ever fordit it," I said.

"But I never yet cam to the water I couldna ford," says he. "But
what's that queer smell i' the air? Something snell and cauld and
unfreendly."

"That's the salt, for we're at the sea here, the mighty ocean.

He keepit repeatin' the word ower in his mouth. "The salt, the salt,
I've heard tell o' it afore, but I dinna like it. It's terrible cauld
and unhamely."

By this time an onding o' rain was coming up' frae the water, and I
bade the man come indoors to the fire. He followed me, as biddable as
a sheep, draggin' his legs like yin far gone in seeckness. I set him
by the fire, and put whisky at his elbow, but he wadna touch it.

"I've nae need o' it," said he. "I'm find and warm"; and he sits
staring at the fire, aye comin' ower again and again, "The Solloway,
the Solloway. It's a guid name and a muckle water."

But sune I gaed to my bed, being heavy wi' sleep, for I had traivelled
for twae days.

The next morn I was up at six and out to see the weather. It was a'
changed. The muckle tides lay lang and still as our ain Loch o' the
Lee, and far ayont I saw the big blue hills o' England shine bricht and
clear. I thankit Providence for the day, for it was better to tak the
lang miles back in sic a sun than in a blast o' rain.

But as I lookit I saw some folk comin' up frae the beach carryin'
something atween them. My hert gied a loup, and "some puir, drooned
sailor-body," says I to mysel', "whae has perished in yesterday's
storm." But as they cam nearer I got a glisk which made me run like
daft, and lang ere I was up on them I saw it was Yeddie.

He lay drippin' and white, wi' his puir auld hair lyin' back frae his
broo and the duds clingin' to his legs. But out o' the face there had
gane a' the seeckness and weariness. His een wer