IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 
 12.5 
 2.2 
 
 " - lll!12.0 
 
 1^ 
 
 1.8 
 
 1.4 IIIIII.6 
 
 *^ 
 
 *^ 
 
 '«3 
 
 el 
 
 '>. ?>' 
 
 
 (? 
 
 % 
 
 m 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sdences 
 Corporation 
 
 33 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, NY. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 r^\ 
 
 m 
 
 ^" 
 
 :\ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 %i> 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
tif 
 
 
 
 i/.. 
 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHIVI/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques 
 
 1980 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a 6ti possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la mdthode normale de filmage 
 sont indiquis ci-dessous. 
 
 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommag6e 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaur^e et/ou peilicuide 
 
 I I Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 I I Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes gdographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Reli6 avec d'autres documents 
 
 I I Coloured pages/ 
 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 D 
 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagdes 
 
 Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicui^es 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages d6color6es, tacheties ou piqu^es 
 
 Pages detached/ 
 Pages d6tach6es 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of print varies/ 
 Qualite indgale de I'impression 
 
 □ Includes supplementary material/ 
 Comprend du matdriel supplementaire 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge intdritture 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutdes 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas 6t6 filmies. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Edition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont 6t6 fiim^es d nouveau de fapon d 
 obtenir la meilleure image possible. 
 
 D 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppl^mentaires: 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est filmi au taux de r6duction indiqui ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 14X 18X 22X 
 
 26X 
 
 30X 
 
 / 
 
 12X 
 
 16X 
 
 20X 
 
 24X 
 
 28X 
 
 32X 
 
The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 National Library of Canada 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grflce A la 
 gdiiirositi de: 
 
 Bibliothdque nationale du Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded ^rame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol —♦-(meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper laft hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les images suivantes ont 6x6 reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettet6 de l'exemplaire film6, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la '*ouverture en 
 papier est imprimie sont film6s en commenpant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'irnpression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaltra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbole — *> signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbole V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre 
 film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre 
 reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir 
 de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant !e nombre 
 d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la mdthode. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
URAL RHYMES 
 
 A\n 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 BY 
 
 ERIC DUNCAN. 
 
 TORONTO: 
 WILLIAM BRIGGS, WKSLEV BUILDINGS. 
 COATES, Montreal, Que. S. F. HUESTIS, Halifax, N.S. 
 
 1896. 
 
<• )'^- 
 
 . ■«> 
 
 Entered accordinjf to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in tlie year one tli' ^ 
 
 eight hundred and ninety -six, by William Brioos, at the Dppni'n.^ ^ ^riev; ( 
 Agriculture. 
 
 roi%li rei 
 
 Ocfiox, hn 
 •'^t'j)te: 
 
year one th' 
 he 
 
 These Rural Rhymes are not the rose-tinted ' 
 .•epa,.n. .^nes of a rusticating rhapsodist, but the regular 
 roith reminiscences of a real rancher, written by 
 
 
 S: 
 
>\ JS 
 )\v S 
 
 VIA. ! 
 
 Jo(i S 
 
 l.NT.M 
 lAV S 
 
 A UTON KM] 
 
 Airi::.i;.;v 
 
 Tra shkki 
 
CONTEXTS. 
 
 « • 
 
 10 
 13 
 
 17 
 22 
 
 •is 
 
 m 
 
 4i 
 
•# 
 
RURAL RHYMES 
 
 f 
 
 
 H /l>06quito Sono. 
 
 Cow iiuxTixr; in the woods one day, 
 
 I listened for the b<?ll, 
 Holding my breath — when on my ear 
 
 This song melodious fell. 
 
 " T am a bold mosquito, 
 
 And through the Woods T fly ; 
 So get I but a drink of blood, 
 I care not if I die. 
 
 " Creatures a thousand times as big 
 
 Do bring my food to me ; . 
 
 I, singing, light astride on them. 
 And grub it out in glee ! 
 
 *' Yet though these creatures bring my food, 
 Unwillingly they give. 
 And oft I find it hard to get 
 The wherewithal to live. 
 
8 
 
 A MOSQUITO SO\G. 
 
 '* Great hairy brutes in coinpanieti 
 ♦ Will sluggishly draw near ; 
 Their hides are all h<» thick and tough 
 They well-nigh lu'eak my spear. 
 
 " And when T get a drop of blood, 
 It is not worth the pains — 
 Coarse, salt, and indigestible. 
 It on my chest remains. 
 
 " But there is one, a monster dire, 
 Who sometimes passes by 
 (Oh, had I but my fill of blood, 
 I satisfied would die !). 
 
 "To light upon this monster dire 
 Is risk of life and limb ; 
 But I would risk a hundred lives 
 To get a sip from inm. 
 
 " His hide is thin, his blood is sweet — 
 Sweeter than milk to me ; 
 But ah, his ways are full of guile. 
 And treacherous is he ! 
 
 " At times he like a stump will stand, 
 And you would think him dead. 
 Then suddenly he wakes, and flails 
 Go thrashing round his head. 
 
^ Ml) sou/ TO 'so AG. 
 
 Oh, I havo MCM'ii — have nhmi — have neen "- 
 
 (lie liovercd as lie sang) 
 Five comrades Mattened at my side 
 
 Beneath «me frightful hang ! 
 
 Hut J, a Ixiid nu)S(|uito, 
 
 Still through the forest fly, 
 And I will have a drink of blood, 
 
 I care not though I die." 
 
 9 
 
 Here ceased the song, f(jr, with a slap, 
 
 The singer hold T slew. 
 8ee, ye whu.sL iOve for liquor grows, 
 
 Whcvt it may do for you. 
 
 •* 
 
10 
 
 AN OX SONG. 
 
 ,,>it 
 
 Hn ©X Sono. 
 
 I HAVE an ox, a good work ox, 
 
 Steady to plough or draw ; 
 Not vicious he, his only fault 
 
 Is kleptomania. 
 
 He has a long and lanky frame, 
 
 His ])elly nought can fill. 
 Yea, should he gulp a bale of hay 
 
 He would be lanky still. 
 
 Beside his elephantine height 
 
 An eight-rail fence is low ; 
 He hugs the fence, he reaches down 
 
 Where high the oats do grow. 
 
 A taste — a bite — he lifts his head ; 
 
 Now run I — and yell ! — and run ! — 
 Too late ! His ponderous bulk upheaves, 
 
 And crash ! the work is done. 
 
 One dawn I found him trampling through 
 
 My heaviest field of grain ; 
 All night he had been toiling there 
 
 To fill himself— in vain. 
 
AN OX SONG. 
 
 11 
 
 javes, 
 
 trough 
 
 J tie<l him to the broken fence, 
 
 A cral)-tree switch I tore 
 (For T was mad), and thrashed liini as 
 
 He ne'er was thrashed before. 
 
 He took it all full patiently, 
 
 He knew it was his due, 
 But yet at nie, when loosing him, 
 
 A spiteful look he threw — 
 
 A look which said, as plain as speech, 
 
 "My hide is disarranged, 
 
 Oh-h-h I but I will remember this, 
 And T will be revenged." 
 
 Next night when I in peaceful bunk 
 
 Did comfortably snore. 
 Roused by a raging storm of bells, 
 
 I sprang upon the Hooi*. 
 
 '* Much good one sinner doth destroy," 
 
 Said the wise king of old ; 
 The words came forcibly as I 
 
 A blanket round me rolled. 
 
 No time for socks, I quickly plunged 
 
 Barefoot into my boots, 
 And, lighted by the round-faced moon, 
 
 Sped fast through brush and roots. 
 
12 
 
 AN OX SONG. 
 
 Oho 1 tliey fill the turnip field, 
 Cows f^obbling all they can ; 
 
 But see the huge, ungainly form 
 That lum])ers in their van I 
 
 The moon, the calm, indifferent moon. 
 
 My frenzied fury mocks, 
 As round and round the field I tear 
 
 After that dreadful ox. 
 
 I cleared the place, but not before 
 The crop was half destroyed ; 
 
 Now many a niijht-nlarm have T, 
 And many an hour employed 
 
 In mending gaps, for though no more 
 
 That ox will wander free, 
 The cows, through his example, are 
 
 Almost as bad as he. 
 
 But I have seen the foolishness 
 
 Of trifling with a thief. 
 And so this good but erring ox 
 
 Will very soon be l)eef. 
 
 "^S 
 
 
 1 
 
 
A anv SONG. 
 
 13 
 
 H Cow %0\\Q. 
 
 SuMMKK finds the Comox fjirmer 
 
 Work enough to do ; 
 Lal)()r-l)ent, lie ceaseless trudges, 
 
 Like the mythic Jew. 
 
 Docs he slacken? Weeds in turnips, 
 
 Fern Jiniong the grain, 
 r)utsj)iead hay, and dark clouds gathering, 
 
 Spur him on again. 
 
 Crafty ])igs and steers and horses, 
 
 Shrewd fence-breakers all. 
 Send him over heights of madness 
 
 Nigh beyond recall. 
 
 But the last big straw which fractures 
 
 His devoted back, 
 Ts the brute that gives the bucket 
 
 Its despatching whack. 
 
 Ah, what grins distend her nostrils ! 
 
 Ah, what eyes of mirth ! 
 As the white Hood leaps, and mingles 
 
 With the thirsty earth ! 
 
■T'" 
 
 iili 
 
 14 
 
 A CO IV SONG. 
 
 Listen while I tell the story, 
 As it haunts me now, 
 
 Of a farmer's sad adventure 
 With a kicking cow. 
 
 Starting up before the sunrise, 
 
 Flushed the brow of morn, 
 He had brushed the soaking dew-drops 
 
 From the fern and thorn, 
 
 Gathering in his cows to milk them 
 
 Ere resistless beams 
 Pierced through cool green shades, and w;ikt 
 
 Gadflies from their dreams. 
 
 Twos and threes he found, and turned them 
 
 On the homeward road. 
 Till at length, amid the roughland, 
 
 Only one abode. 
 
 She, of all the herd the leader, 
 
 Ever wandered far, 
 Far into the darkest forest 
 
 Where the cedars are. 
 
 So he left her, and she came not 
 
 Till meridian rays 
 Filled with breathless heat the valley 
 
 And a shimmering haze. 
 
 •i 
 
 A- 
 
A coir schvcj. 
 
 15 
 
 (Jh, tlu' sun was fiercely huriiinj; ; 
 
 Thick the air, and still ; 
 Not a bird note — every raven 
 
 Gasped with gaping hill. 
 
 In the pond the swine were rolling; 
 
 Rover j)anting lay ; 
 But above and all around them 
 
 Gadtiies bocjined away. 
 
 Throu'di the sultrv lanes of woodland 
 
 Rang tlie wanderer's song, 
 As in lonesome haste she hurried 
 
 DesjH'rately along. 
 
 Swooped u|)on by flying stpiadrons, 
 
 Furiously she bounds, 
 Lasliing vengeful tail, and bleeding 
 
 From a humh'ed wounds. 
 
 Right into the shed she darted, 
 
 Througli the open door, 
 And a weary smile of welcome 
 
 Her tired owner wore. 
 
 Tight he closed tlie door and screened her 
 
 From the scorching dav, 
 Yet a stealthy nati^•e entered 
 
 With his assegai. 
 
I 
 
 I ■ ! 
 
 16 
 
 A coir SONG. 
 
 On his one-legged stool, so busy 
 
 As the farmer sat, 
 Suddenly, like ball at cricket 
 
 Spinning fi'oni a bat, 
 
 From between his knees the bucket 
 
 Banged against the wall. 
 And what little milk was in it 
 
 Showered around the stall. 
 
 Then he took a piece of bale rope, 
 
 And, with many a turn, 
 To the stall and to a wall post 
 
 Mooi-ed her, stem and stern. 
 
 " Xow," said he, " my lady Fidget, 
 
 Do the worst you can ;" 
 And again, with steady cadence. 
 
 Fast the white streams ran. 
 
 Patiently she stood, in silent 
 
 Meditation wrapt. 
 Till the heavy pail was brimming, 
 
 Then — the sisal snapt. 
 
 Rampant overhead, her dewlaps 
 
 On his shoulders come ; 
 Prone he falls, and, grovelling, wallows 
 
 In the seething foam ! 
 
 *.^S 
 
 m 
 
 iiiii 
 
A BULL SONG. 
 
 17 
 
 And silt' grimly smiled — and vanislied 
 
 From his wilderod view, 
 S(|Ufir('ly throujjjh the d(j<>r so slender, 
 
 Like a bomb she flew. 
 
 'o» 
 
 wallows 
 
 a Bull soiuj. 
 I. 
 
 Just here the river bounds 
 The cultivated ground ; 
 
 Far stretches, on the other shore, 
 The wilderness profound. 
 
 Where Tsolum rolls his waves 
 
 Through woods of spruce and pine, 
 
 And mighty cottonwoods their boughs 
 With maples intertwine ; 
 
 Where giant trunks of eld. 
 In mossy ridges flung, 
 "^ Wallow in white-thorn, dogwood, crab, 
 With brambles overstrung ; 
 
I'll! 
 
 1 
 
 i^ 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 18 A BULL SONG. 
 
 Where far-extending sloughs, 
 And paths without an end, 
 
 Run through the tangling undergi-owth 
 With many a wildering l)end ; 
 
 In this enchanting land. 
 This country of the coon, 
 
 Free cattle multitudinous 
 Spend every circling June. 
 
 Right opposite there dwelt, 
 
 In thrall and discontent, 
 A sturdy bull, which longed to break 
 
 From his enfoi-ced restraint. 
 
 ►Still daily as he came 
 
 Returning thirst to slake, 
 
 Free rovers, on the other side. 
 Would jeer him from the brake. 
 
 At last an ancient foe 
 
 One evening vaunting spoke. 
 
 And ring and chain were all in vain — 
 Across the surge he broke. 
 
 And now, from bondage free, 
 
 Exultingly he sang ; 
 The live-long night his trumpet tones 
 
 Through the dark forest rang. 
 
A BULL SOXG. 
 
 If) 
 
 rrowth 
 
 TT. 
 
 () ! music rode the breeze 
 
 That night tlmmgh Cuiiiox groves, 
 As huU-froi,', owl, and hull combined 
 
 To .serenade their loves ! 
 
 break 
 
 C) ! tenor san*,' the froij, 
 
 And l)ass the night-bird lone, 
 
 Iiut hijih above them s\v<»lled and rolle(l 
 The bull's <'rand baritone. 
 
 ike. 
 
 I \'A\\\ — 
 
 t tones 
 
 ^r^ 
 
 Vain exultation liis ; 
 
 The sun's first rising beam 
 Next morning saw a rancher l)old 
 
 Breasting the bridgeless stream. 
 
 Throu'di nianv a tortuous trail, 
 Through inany a slough forlorn. 
 
 He tracked him to a scrubby height 
 By {\r(y of timber shorn. 
 
 AVhiz/ throu'di the thickets flew 
 
 Vn- 
 
 The wild herd o'er tlu? hill ; 
 \ss fleet, less scared, the bull 
 High peals his war-note shrill. 
 
 J? Less fleet, less scared, the bull remains ; 
 
 •m ' 
 
20 
 
 A BULL SO AG. 
 
 j^"- 
 
 '!!.;; 
 
 liii 
 iiii 
 
 I ' 
 
 He(*(llesH of hostile jihow 
 
 The rancher lieuds him home ; 
 
 Sullen and slow he walks till to 
 The river's bank they come. 
 
 Then blazed his ire, to view 
 
 Afar his den of woe ; 
 With flaming eyes he turned and drove 
 
 Headlong against the foe. 
 
 The rancher stept aside 
 
 From swift destruction's path ; , 
 A cluV) upon the flying death 
 
 He splintered in his wrath. 
 
 Back through the serpent track, 
 Back with green slime bedight, 
 
 Back with a rush that ne'er did slack, 
 Back o'er the bushy height ; 
 
 Joins the wild herd again, 
 
 The rancher close behind, 
 Lashed by rebounding twigs, and slashed 
 
 By thorns with briers twined. 
 
 Yet with endurance strong 
 
 He rounds them up once more, 
 
 Singles the bull, and riverward 
 Again they madly tore. 
 
A BULL SOXG. 
 
 21 
 
 drove 
 
 ilack, 
 
 Djtsli tlinm^li the scrubby pines, 
 
 Sjd.isli tliniugh th(» swelteriiii; slough, 
 
 Crash over h><^s witli l)rjitMl)h's Ixiund, 
 Anil (h'iul Huags jutting througli ; 
 
 On through tlic ojx'ning brakes, 
 
 On to the Ts(>kiMj'.s i)oun<I, 
 ?^ach thundeiing footfall jars and sljakes 
 
 The root-ceruented ground. 
 
 Fagged the stout bi'ute at last ; 
 
 Foam-streaked his lieaving sides ; 
 He reached the bank and rolled into 
 
 The cool, refreshing tides. 
 
 Cowed and disheartened, he 
 
 Submitted like a lamb ; 
 Upon his back his captoi" leapt, 
 
 And o'er the flood he swam. 
 
 I slashed 
 
 Thus the poor bovine king 
 For freedom fought in vain, 
 
 And with the shades of night returned 
 To his detested chain. 
 
22 
 
 A HOG SONG, 
 
 H Udoo Song. 
 1. 
 
 In tlu; (lays tliat an* departed 
 Lived the subject of my song, 
 
 Wlieii tlies(! Iiinl)s, now old and feeble, 
 Were with youthful vi^^our strong. 
 
 Long ere A^ernon,* foe to grunters, 
 
 Rose to curb their liberty, 
 'Midst th(! ferns and swamps of Comox 
 
 flighty swine dwelt joyously. 
 
 From the marking time and onward 
 To the dreadful slaughter day. 
 
 Through the woods, and o'er the pi ries, 
 At their pleasure wandered they. 
 
 (J rim old boars, with tusks ferocious. 
 Drove the skulking panther back ; 
 
 In a bristling ring they marshalled, 
 And defied the wolves' attack. 
 
 Ah, those days forever vanished ! 
 
 Ah, those years so wild and free ! 
 Ere great Vernon, foe to grunters. 
 
 Robbed them of their liberty. 
 
 * Vernoii was the author of the Provincial Act jirohibitin. 
 Kwine from running at lar^^'e. 
 
A //OG SONG. 
 
 23 
 
 feeble, 
 
 i-ong. 
 
 M'S, 
 
 Comox 
 
 ward 
 
 e pi i'i<'^, 
 hey. 
 
 cious, 
 back ; 
 lied, 
 
 d! 
 
 tree 
 
 ers, 
 
 il Act itrohibitiii* 
 
 Hiu' Idiglit iiKMiiiii;; ill November 
 Ot'ten thiougli my mind doth run, 
 
 When tlie brown fern, wliite with hoar frost, 
 Slione like silver in the sun. 
 
 f>(M»e the dii,';riMj^' of |)otat«)es, 
 
 And the turni|) pulling too; 
 I was standing in my doorway 
 
 Tlnnkin<' what 1 next should do. 
 
 When from out tiie leafy margin 
 
 Of the woodland stalked along, 
 T(»ward the log-hut snug and solid 
 
 When; he used to sleep wlien young. 
 
 An old hog, of vast proportions, 
 
 Lost to ^ij'ht for many a dav, 
 Dark and fierce as night and tempest, 
 
 With hi br'stles turning gray. 
 
 As it chanced, the door was fastened, 
 
 lUit he lingered, and a whim — 
 Reasonless, ai»surd — possessed me, 
 
 All alone to capture him. 
 
 Soon he passed behind the cabin, 
 
 Where some berry oushes grew, 
 Hiding me and every movement 
 
 Altogether from his view. 
 
Ill 
 
 24 
 
 III! 
 
 m\ 
 
 A HOG SONG. 
 
 Straight a train of turnip slices 
 
 Laid I, stretching far afield 
 From the sty's now open doorway ; 
 
 Quickly then myself concealed. 
 
 Muttering to himself, and grumbling, 
 Now the hog again appeared ; 
 
 When he saw the line of turnips, 
 Ears and bristles both upreared. 
 
 Plainly he a trick suspected, 
 
 For he sniffed but would not taste. 
 
 And towards the sheltering forest 
 Turned, as to retreat in haste. 
 
 But a stray slice came before him, 
 And he snatched it. Ah, the lack 
 
 In his stomach overcame hira ; 
 All his youth came rushing back. 
 
 Back he turned and swallowed, smacking, 
 And his head he raised no more 
 
 Till the open sty received him. 
 And I slammed the heavy door. 
 
 With a beam I barred it, mortised 
 
 Into logs on either side, 
 And I heaped great stones against it ; 
 
 " Now I have you safe I " I cried. 
 
A HOG SOXG. 
 
 25 
 
 II. 
 
 1. 
 
 aste, 
 
 it 
 
 To a hole high in the gable 
 
 Mounting, I looked down within, 
 
 And the captive, glancing upward. 
 Welcomed me with savage grin. 
 
 Then he gnashed his teeth in fury, 
 And his eyes gleamed luridly, 
 
 As he spoke in grim defiance — 
 
 *'Guff ! guff! ugh !" he snarled at me. 
 
 n, 
 lack 
 
 .ck. 
 
 smacking, 
 re 
 
 )r. 
 ed 
 
 ist it ; 
 ned. 
 
 Undismayed I dropt beside him. 
 Seized him firmly by the tail. 
 
 To describe the scene that followed, 
 Words all miserably fail. 
 
 W^ith ear-splitting yells he circled 
 Round and round at dizzying pace. 
 
 While each vain attempt to check him 
 Only spurred him in his race. 
 
 Round my arm a rope coil fastened 
 LiM)sened, tripped me, arid anon 
 
 Flat as Hounder on the sty lloor 
 I was thuoNvn, yet hung I un. 
 
26 
 
 A HOG SOXG. 
 
 m 
 
 I I 
 
 Plunging, kicking, twisting, shrieking, 
 Fast and thick lie gasped at last, 
 
 Then in one grand break for freedom 
 His remaining strength he cast. 
 
 As a battering-ram of old time, 
 
 Forward dashed, with shattering blow, 
 
 Broke beleaguered gates, and hurletl them 
 Down in awful overthrow, 
 
 So, with bound of desperation. 
 He his headlong passage tore. 
 
 Crashing through the solid planking 
 Of the barricaded door. 
 
 Bars and barriers flew before him — 
 Rocks in vain obstruct th^ way — 
 
 Tattered, bruised, yet hanging to him 
 Out upon the field I lay. 
 
 Then he turne.l upon ma, shaking, 
 
 Breathhss, streaked with foam he was; 
 
 But he only ripped njy boot leg 
 Ere he loosed his (juivering jaws ; 
 
 For a dreadful kick T planted 
 
 Right above his fiery eyes. 
 Stars by thousands danced before him, 
 
 And he fell, no more to rise. 
 
rieking, 
 last, 
 eedom 
 ast. 
 
 A HOG SONG. 
 
 Well may you believe that quickly 
 Hues of scarlet dyed the ground 
 
 As the savage blood in torrents 
 Issued fi'om a deadly wound. 
 
 27 
 
 sring blow, 
 lurled them 
 
 xVh I but he is long departed ; 
 
 < )f his race the few that be, 
 Hugged-backed and chicken-hearted 
 
 Wail their vanished li})ertv. 
 
 nking 
 
 ini — 
 ■ay— 
 to him 
 
 im he was; 
 
 aws ; 
 
 )re him, 
 
28 
 
 A JANUARY SONG. 
 
 ii 
 I 
 ii, 
 
 ill 
 
 H January Sona* 
 
 Winter, tyrant stern and hoary, 
 
 Rules with iron sway the fields ; 
 Over wrecks of Autumn's glory 
 
 Glittering monuments he builds. 
 Whistles sharp his minion Boreas, 
 
 Galvanized at his advance ; 
 Dead leaves leap and whirl before us 
 
 Through the woods in ghostly dance, 
 
 Skies, grey- ribbed and frost-corroded, 
 
 Smooth and thicken like a pall, 
 Bending low, and overloaded, 
 
 Down they let their burden fall. 
 Tumbling, scattering, flickering, flying, 
 
 Come the flakes in headlong haste, 
 While an aimless wind is sighing 
 
 Drearily from waste to waste. 
 
 Animated nature shivers. 
 
 Stricken through with deadly chill ; 
 Buried are the ponds and rivers. 
 
 Shrouded every bush-topped hill. 
 
 So 
 
 Aye 
 
 Bee 
 
A JANUARY SONG. 
 
 29 
 
 0^ 
 
 for March's roaring })luster ! 
 O for April's drizzling ruin ! 
 STea, we hail even thee, South-easter, 
 See we but green earth again. 
 
 3ary, 
 fields ; 
 
 ory 
 
 builds. 
 
 Boreas, 
 
 :e; 
 
 before us 
 lostly dance. 
 
 t-corroded, 
 } a pall, 
 
 ed, 
 
 den fall. 
 
 ering, flyi"^ 
 
 long haste, 
 
 sighing 
 
 waste. 
 
 Ideadly chill 
 rivers, 
 )pped hill. 
 
 'a 
 
 nperceived the sun is passing 
 O'er the glacier peak afar, 
 mbre clouds, behind hiin massing, 
 Herald the approaching war, 
 Wh<'n, like resurrected giant. 
 
 Bursts the gale Chinookian forth, 
 w4ii<J with ringing blast defiant, 
 j^Sweeps the routed Winter north. 
 
 ■K- 
 
 * 
 
 u[)on the desolation 
 
 Of the dead lands, sunk in snow, 
 Life shoots up, a new creation. 
 
 As the great South-easters blow, 
 So w hen, prosperous times forsaking. 
 
 Adverse fortunes o'er us roll. 
 Aye, through chilling glooms forth-breaking, 
 
 Hope revivifies the soul. 
 
 Deep within the breast implanted, 
 Hope, ^h*^ offspring of the sky. 
 
30 
 
 A JANUARY SONG. 
 
 Bowed by storms, yet springs undaunted 
 
 Ice-encased, it cannot die. 
 By it still, through crime and sorrow, 
 
 Doomed unfortunates are blest; 
 Still, against the doubtful morrow, 
 
 Each one is an optimist. 
 
 m\ 
 
 Go, with God acknowledged near you, 
 
 While fair sunshine floods your way, 
 Hope perennial then will cheer you 
 
 In the dark and cloudy day ; 
 Till, earth's shadows thinning, rending. 
 
 Breaks upon your strengthened sight 
 All the Sunnner joy unending 
 
 Of the land of fadeless light. 
 
 i! ' 
 
 '1 
 
 t f 
 
 h:r 
 
A MAY SONG. 
 
 31 
 
 undaunted ; 
 
 U /IDa^ Song. 
 
 tte'.i on the occasion of the Nanainio colliery explosion of 1887, the 
 Ki-eatest disaster in the hiistory of Hrilish Columbia.) 
 
 Can tliis indeed be ]\Jay, 
 
 That month so green and fair 1 
 
 Surely November at its worst 
 Could scarce with this compare. 
 
 Huge clouds of blackest hue 
 
 In dense battalions form, 
 And trees uproot, and fences fly, 
 
 Before the warring storm. 
 
 The shivering cows rush home 
 
 To shun the fierce downpour, 
 And ancient straw and musty hay 
 
 They eagerly devour. 
 
 The })rimming river foams, 
 
 AVith current brown and strong, 
 And over ploughed and seeded land^ 
 
 The wild duck sails aloiiL^ 
 * -it -it * 
 
 
 * 
 
32 
 
 A MA Y SONG, 
 
 But these are triHes. Ali ! 
 
 What real trouble springs 
 Where Death's dark angel hovers low, 
 
 With close and stifling wings ! 
 
 Woe for the stricken town ! 
 
 Woe for the homes of gloom. 
 Which husband, son, or father's face 
 
 Shall never more illume ! 
 
 ^'il^':! 
 
 Oh, month of cloud and wrath ! 
 
 Long, long, through future years 
 Nanaimo will remember thee 
 
 With sighing and with tears. 
 
 God bind the broken hearts, 
 God comfort those who mourn, 
 
 For what can human aid avail 
 In such a time forlorn ? 
 
A JUNE SONG. 
 
 33 
 
 H June Song. 
 
 Nuw clouds are wearing thin, 
 Now verdure wraps tlie land 
 
 From the high snow's receding bound 
 Down to the Georgian strand. 
 
 The sun benignly smiles — 
 Not yet his might he wields, 
 
 Nor frowns with fiery countenance 
 Upon the fainting fields. 
 
 And breezes rustle by, 
 
 And bells ring through the woods. 
 And bird-notes ever merrily 
 
 Fill up the interludes. 
 
 Swallows through empty barns 
 
 Dart swift, on tireless wing, 
 And underneath the rafters high 
 
 Their nests are fashioning. 
 
 The river's shrinking tide 
 
 Leaves snags and beaches dry ; 
 
 With headlong rush, 'twixt wave and air 
 Young ducks athwart it fly. 
 
34 
 
 A JUNE SONG. 
 
 Now lifts the fern his head 
 
 Above the growin*^ grain — 
 Undying foe, oft smitten down, 
 
 But bound to rise again. 
 
 Wily and powerful he. 
 
 Who would with him contend 
 In vigilance must tireless be, 
 
 And fight him to the end. 
 
 Yet perfume of the rose, 
 With scent of clover blends, 
 
 And warm and soft, with soundless fall, 
 The summer snow descends.* 
 
 Far upward we have climljed 
 From depths of winter drear ; 
 
 Now hail we thee, O glorious June, 
 The summit of the year 
 
 * The down of the great cottonwood tree, which often 
 falls as thick as a shower of snow. 
 
A JULY SONG. 
 
 do 
 
 a 3ul» sono. 
 
 J less fall, 
 
 [), hlazin(;ly hot are these days of July, 
 
 Down liere in this dale of the West! 
 lot a breeze in the trees, not a cloud in the sky 
 
 Not a Ijreak on the bay's calm lireast. 
 
 how fine it would he in the shadow to lie, 
 Vhere the pine throws his wide-spreading branches on 
 high; 
 
 iut mosquitoes and gadflies hum rousingly by, 
 And July is no time for rest. 
 
 une, 
 
 ,vhich often 
 
 ^eeds, weeds must be slain, and the hay mown down. 
 
 Tossed, raked, cocked, and pitched on the wain ; 
 Lnd all nmst be done 'neath the sun's fierce frown, 
 
 While the sweat pours down like rain, 
 re who talk of the smoke and the heat of the town, 
 bd for sweet-smelling clover do hunger and groan, 
 
 yoked but a day to the hay-field so Ijrown, 
 
 You would wish for your desks again. 
 
30 
 
 PRO U GUT. 
 
 Brouobt. 
 
 August returns, but not with plenty crowned ; 
 
 Thin, dwarfed, and light of head is all the grain. 
 The meagre hay was, ere its blossom, browned ; 
 
 The root crops withered, all for want of rain. 
 The cows for aftergrass do seek in vain, 
 
 And through the boundless woods afar they roanij 
 They anger me ; but when driven home again 
 
 Their sad eyes plead for hay, and I am dumb, 
 For I have none to spare — I think of months to coiiij 
 
A NOVEMHER SONG. 
 
 m 
 
 H IRovcmbcr Sono. 
 
 ,!• swoops the (lark South-eustor by, in torrents falls 
 tiio lain, 
 
 Tsoluin ovortlows liis hanks :iii(l inundates the plain ; 
 \n his yellow current home, with many a crash and 
 ;,'i(»an, 
 
 it spars, and ragged trunks of trees torn from the 
 roots, drive on. • 
 
 salmon loave the turbid flood, no more their highway 
 now, 
 
 l)yways take through ileld and wood where tiniest 
 streamlets flow. 
 
 igh endless harriers block their course, they circum- 
 Ivont them all — 
 
 log, the rock, the gravelly bar, the tumbling waterfall, 
 after mile they leap i ^d creep, nor of returning think, 
 lie water wets their tads, or they can find a drop to 
 (hink.* 
 
 geese, in solid wedge-like ranks, well-ordered, south 
 have passed, 
 
 ducks and cranes in wavering lines now ride the 
 surly blast. 
 
 
 rhe British Columbia salmon might almost be classed auionjf the amphibia. 
 ! eyewitness can credit the extent of his inland journeyings. 
 
38 
 
 A NOVEMBER SONG. 
 
 The yards where herds do congregate are ankle-deer 
 
 mire, 
 And long-legged boots and «jvercoats we farmers all re(|uJ 
 
 Gone are the sunny summer days, the harvest glory l(h 
 The wretched earth is wearied bv alternate rain and fr. 
 The maple's gorgeous garb is now a scanty veil of Ijidwi 
 And from their June-time refuge high the sn(t\vs 
 
 edging down.* 
 But yet, though greybeard Winter comes, he brings wj 
 
 him along 
 The cheerful round of fireside joys, the reading and 
 
 scmg. 
 Who will may seek the crowded town, or range the stoij 
 
 sea. 
 This quiet, independent life is just the life for me. 
 
 * The central ridge of Vancouver Island is always snow-rapped. 
 
AN ELEGY. 
 
 39 
 
 2iln lElCG^. 
 
 He \vh(i rose anrl roused his household 
 
 In the dawning grey, 
 llist'S not, nor lifts an eyelid, 
 
 All the sunny day. 
 
 He who brought the cows from pasture 
 
 Ere the sun grew hot, 
 At the gate they wait, and wonder 
 
 Why they se^ him not. 
 
 He, the ever-foremost mower 
 
 In the havfield blithe, 
 .Suddenly is sti-uck, and levelled 
 
 By a mightier scythe. 
 
 And that ringing shout which answered 
 
 Aye the noontide horn. 
 Kings no more, nor faintest whisper 
 
 Cheers the liome forlorii. 
 
 Stilled the voice that led in worship, 
 
 Sure as evening fell ; 
 Younger hands nmst take the Bil)le 
 
 That he loved so well. 
 
40 
 
 AN ELEGY 
 
 Sturdily his path of labor 
 
 To the end he trod ; 
 Lay him, worn, not rust-corroded, 
 
 Underneath the sod. 
 
 % 
 
 \ 
 
 Im^. 
 
 Weedroots, longtime fought, may quickly 
 
 Bind each rugged hand ; 
 What recks he ? a restful dweller 
 
 In the weedless Land. 
 
 y4 
 
d, 
 
 ly quickly 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEE. 
 
 A LEGEND OF SHETLAND. 
 
 gM i dark shore full many a league removed, 
 -ith summer skies, 'mid milder scenes I roam, 
 never from my mind, O land beloved I 
 ly image fades, my boyhood's happy home, 
 hemisphere of land and stormy foam 
 |cles me from thee, yet, for evermore, 
 by green and daisied fields before me come, 
 |soml)re hills, ihy headlands huge and hoar, 
 white WOT s ^)! zing on, with far-resounding roai- 
 
m 
 
 ill" .'H 
 
THE shp:ep thief. 
 
 Part I. 
 
 Away beneath the northern sky 
 The rugged Isles of Shetland lie ; 
 Land of the Vikings, who of yore 
 Ravaged each neighboring sea and shore, 
 And oft, in battle fierce, defied 
 The Danish and the Saxon pride. 
 Their day is gone, their power is vain, 
 Yet cliffs and caves their names retain. 
 And still, as in that age afar, 
 The ocean's everlasting war 
 Rages around their bulwarked home. 
 With futile wrath and frantic foam. 
 
 There rises, on the western coast. 
 Where beat Atlantic storms the most, 
 A giant cliff — a dizzy height — 
 Ascending far beyond the might 
 Of wildest waves. Thorsfjeld its name. 
 From the strong ''od of hammer fame. 
 
 .% 
 
44 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 It seems a mountain cleft in twain, 
 The landward slopes alone remain : 
 Sheer from the summit to the sea 
 It stoops, in grey immensity. 
 
 Full thirty yards adown the steej), 
 Behind a ledge where "avns sleep, 
 
 Htill may the sailor mark, 
 Rent in the rock, an aperture 
 Low browed and wide, a fitting door 
 
 To cavern rude and dark. 
 The cragsman's eye has never seen 
 
 The secrets of that cavern deep ; 
 The cragsman's foot has never been 
 
 Upon that ledge where ravens sleep. 
 Swung in mid-air, he eyes in vain 
 
 That door and shelf of rock : 
 O'erhanging crags their guard maintain. 
 Seaward he springs, a hold to gain ; 
 The rocks his inward sway restrain, 
 
 And all his efforts mock.* 
 
 Here dwelt, the old traditions say. 
 
 What time the Isles owned Norway's sway. 
 
 A Being sti-ange and strong. 
 With deep-set eyes of lurid cast. 
 
 * See Note I. 
 
THE SHEEP THIEE. 
 
 45 
 
 Of stature low, with shoulders vast, 
 The (lisproportionecl creature passed 
 
 All noiselessly along, 
 Fri^'htcning the carle at closing eve, 
 Who ill his heart did well believe 
 He saw a Trow of nether eartli, 
 And not a man of mortal birth. 
 
 His clothing was the skins of sheep 
 Which vandered near his stronghold steep. 
 A stout crook-headed iron rod, 
 Rounded and pointed like a goad, 
 For weapon in his hand he bore ; 
 And so was called, the country o'er. 
 From Fitful Head to Nordenhaff, 
 The Sheep Thief with the iron staff. 
 
 Now, how he did contrive to climb, 
 
 Or how descend, that height sublime, 
 
 Without a rope, companionless. 
 
 Men oft would speculate and gu«ss. 
 
 His long arms for the crags seemed made. 
 
 And probably his staff did aid. 
 
 Indeed, a certain Hakon Gyar 
 
 Some awe and wonder did inspire 
 
 By telling how, when in his skiff, 
 
 One calm dark night below the cliff 
 
4() 
 
 THE SHEEP THHLF, 
 
 He saw a smoky ln'ightiiess start 
 Forth from the cave, and upward dart, 
 Which, as the mountain top it struck, 
 Th^ form of horse and rider took. 
 And this, he said, did clearlv show 
 That Tangie* bore him to and fro. 
 But Gyar was of romancing vein, 
 And credence small his tale did gain ; 
 And to the dwarf, 'twas thought, alone 
 Some subterranean way was known. 
 Opening on Thorsfjeld's eastern combe. 
 Through which lie brought his plunder lioiJ 
 
 Sad havoc in the flocks he made 
 
 That through the Thorsf jeld country str;i\> 
 
 His nightly frolics were, to creep, 
 
 In their (nvn garments, to the sheep. 
 
 Then suddenly upon them rise, 
 
 And break their legs, or pierce their eyes 
 
 With his stafl' point. It was his joy 
 
 To torture, mangle, and destroy. 
 
 As fast as any dog he ran, 
 
 Outstripping far the swiftest man ; 
 
 Ay, even men began to fear j 
 
 Singly to range the region there, 
 
 For late, a shepherd from that place ] 
 
 Had disappeared, without a trace. 
 
 * See Note II. 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 47 
 
 III all Dunros.sncss there was not 
 
 A iiuui like Ola Brand, 
 (Jreat Suinburgh's stoutest son was hut 
 
 A striphng in his hand. 
 A ,1,'iaiit he, in height and build, 
 The huge war-axe which he did wield 
 Was known on many a l)l<)ody Held 
 
 AN'ithin the souMiern land. 
 And lie could take a galley's chain 
 And snap it with a jerk in twain. 
 
 Like straw-rope, easily, 
 liarehanded he a bull had foiled ; 
 Ania/ed, the charging brute recoiled, 
 To find himself of horns despoiled. 
 
 As Brand walked idly by. 
 Brown moorland, hill, and sheltered glen. 
 From Thorsfjeld east to Levenden, 
 An<l north from Quei.dal's sandy bay 
 To the great hill of Halaleigh, 
 St. Ringan's Isle, and Westerskord, 
 All owned him for their Udal lord. 
 
 Hundreds of light-brown sheep* had he, 
 AVliich pastured on the grassy lea 
 
 * These light-brown, or " moorad " sheep are a l)reed 
 peculiar to the Isles, and their wool is of special value. 
 
48 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Of Thorsf jeld, and his tenants all 
 Had sheep in heathery Westerdahl ; 
 And every year they lost their best 
 By this wild plunderer of the West. 
 But now the bounds of suff 'ranee tame 
 Were past, when o'er the hills there came 
 To Ola, on a summer noon, 
 The tidings of his shepherd gone. 
 
 ii I 
 
 I! ':! 
 
 No w^ord he spake of bad or good, 
 
 But straight to Thorsf jeld took his road. 
 
 Hills, moory wastes, before him lay ; 
 
 He reached the height ere close of day. 
 
 Upon a rock he took his seat. 
 
 And waited there the Thief to meet, 
 
 While soft the evening fell, 
 And limitless to the north-west 
 The placid ocean heaved its breast 
 
 With slow majestic swell. 
 That fateful sea, that solemn sea 
 Which wraps the Pole of mystery. 
 And over which, in that old day. 
 Still sailed his countrymen away. 
 West-bound for Greenland's barren shore, 
 Or dreary coasts of Labrador 
 (Future as ye^he Genoese 
 With all his grand discoveries). 
 
 ;ilili;il!ililj 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF 
 
 49 
 
 The sun was passing to his bed 
 Through ani))er lialls with curtains red, 
 
 Beyond the northern haze ; 
 And lo ! Ijehind, a shining bridge 
 Spanned each long unduhiting ridge 
 Of swell, connecting with the ledge 
 
 Northward from Thorsfj eld's base, 
 Like causeway leading from its edge 
 
 To endless polar days. 
 And every smooth-backed skerry-rock. 
 Each cape that braves the tempest shock, 
 And each fantastic pillared block 
 
 Glowed in the sea of fire. 
 One vast and isolated stone 
 Rose like a king of ages gone : 
 Around his head a golden zone, 
 
 And purple his attire ; 
 While, breaking o'er his feet and throne, 
 The wavelets sparkled, danced, and shone 
 
 Like rubies and sapphire. 
 
 What is that hollow sound so deep % 
 
 The tides which through the Dorholm sweep 
 
 With melancholy wail ; 
 That ocean door through which a ship 
 
 Might run with swelling sail ; 
 4 
 
50 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 While overhead the miglity arc 
 Of rough grey stone, like skin of shaik, 
 And underneath the surges dark 
 Eclio like shrieking gale. 
 
 1!::^! 
 
 j .11 
 
 Myriavds of gulls upon the rocks, 
 Puttins, and guillemots, and auks. 
 
 And " skarfs " upon the sea, 
 High eagles, circling in the blue, 
 Ar>d the Norse birds of sombre hue,* 
 Intent their various aims pursue, 
 
 And scream incessantly. 
 
 Black to the north, Old Rona rose 
 Across the intervening voes ; 
 His granite shoulders scarred with " g' 
 The highest peak in all the Isles ; 
 Far to the west, where sea and sky 
 Meet, merge, and mingle mistily. 
 Like pale blue clouds arising, stand 
 The mural heights of Foula-land. 
 
 Then sank the lingering sun to rest. 
 Flew every sea-bird to its nest. 
 And the grey " dimm " from ocean's breas:j 
 Rose silently aloft; 
 
 navens. 
 
IF. 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 51 
 
 -re 
 
 1 of shark, 
 lark 
 
 cks, 
 
 auks, 
 
 ,ea, 
 
 blue, 
 
 bre hue,* 
 
 irsue. 
 
 na rose 
 
 3d with " g' 
 Isles ; 
 and sky 
 listily, 
 ig, stand 
 i-land. 
 
 m to rest, 
 
 nest, 
 
 )m ocean's breasJ 
 
 En\vrji|»j)iiig crag and columned stone. 
 It filled with ghosts the region lone. 
 Their shrouds and draperies all its own, 
 
 Waved by the night breeze soft. 
 Yet still on Kona's giant head 
 The (lay's depai'ting beam was slicd ; 
 That ju'ak reHects a glimmering light 
 Through all the short-lived summer night. 
 
 80 changed the scene, with dying day, 
 
 Tts glorious hues for sober grey; 
 
 Deep silence settled all around, 
 
 Save for the Dorholm's slumbrous sound. 
 
 Uut on that rampart of the land 
 
 Still sat and waited Ola Brand. 
 
 Hark, was not that a stealthy tread ? 
 The watcher quickly turned his head. 
 When, swift from out the spectral "dimm," 
 A shapeless form advanced to him. 
 Like lightning from his seat he sprang ; 
 At once upon the boulder rang 
 The clangour of the iron staff. 
 "Aha!" cried Brand, with scornful laugh; 
 And ere the dwarf regained his sway, 
 He seized and wrenched the bar away. 
 
52 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Out through the dark it whizzed and spun 
 Like fiery meteor, and was gone. 
 
 1 
 I 
 
 \v. 
 
 Then Brand (his lordly form upreared 
 To its full height) vainglorious jeered 
 
 His little enomy : 
 " Although I oannot strike a blow 
 With such as thou, yet deign to know 
 Thy staff is gono where thou wilt go 
 
 To bear it company." 
 Sudden he ceased, for with a bound 
 The dwarf was at him, and around 
 
 His body quick had cast 
 His long lithe arms, like steely bands, 
 And pinioned to his sides his hands. 
 
 And held him tight and fast. 
 
 As northern hunter, in the grasp 
 
 Of bear, on icy field, 
 Strains every nerve, with choking gasp, 
 While slowly 'neath the mighty clasp 
 
 His ribs begin to yield ; 
 So Ola, in the stern embrace 
 Of that weird Being, for a space 
 
 Did struggle fruitlessly. 
 And landward now their course they urge, 
 Now to the mountain's utmost verge, 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 53 
 
 Above fche quiet sea. 
 As to the precipice they swung, 
 With desperate strength, all torn and wrung 
 
 One hand did Ola free ; 
 And by the neck he clutched the dwarf," 
 As cragsman grasps the sentry *' skarf ".* 
 
 A fearful hold took he. 
 Like as a sponge in Hood that swims, 
 When squeezed, spouts forth its copious streams, 
 So, forced by that gigantic grip. 
 Flew the black blood from nose and lip 
 Of the fell Thief, who slacked his hold, 
 And, hurled upon the greensward, rolled 
 Insensate. His rash foe, as well, 
 Spent, breathless, almost fainting, fell. 
 
 Powerless for ill, they lay a space, 
 When all at once a thundering pace 
 Startled the stillness of the place, 
 
 And, ringing in their ears, 
 Roused e'en the Thief ! Far down the side 
 Where Thorsfjeld melts in moorland wide, 
 Clearing a rod at every strirle, 
 
 A wondrous horse appears. 
 As black as coal that horse did seem, 
 Straight as an arrow-flight he came, 
 
 * See Note III. 
 
-33* 
 
 54 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 His eyes and nostrils flashing flame, 
 
 Which flared above his head ; 
 He mounts the raountain at a l)reath, 
 As springs l>lue lightning over heath ; 
 Up blazed the grass l)eside his path, 
 
 And fell in ashes dead I 
 He seales the crest, a moment halts, 
 Then terror first Brand's soul assaults. 
 But lo ! the Thief upon him vaults, 
 
 And o'er the cliff they flew. 
 *' No liar, then, was Hfikon Gyar," 
 Said Brand, betwixt dismay and ire. 
 " The wretch is leagued with demons dire, 
 
 And what can mortal do ?'* 
 
 _ I 
 
 |: ! 
 
 As, baffled, now lie seek.s his home, 
 Behold I a lessening of the gloom. 
 Sudden the giiinnier wliich had ci'ept 
 All night along the North Sea, leapt 
 Aloft into the grey, and sprays 
 Oi' green and gold, and purplt^ rays 
 Blended with rose-hues, following fast, 
 O'er the dim waves a radiance cast. 
 Rona's majestic summit flamed, 
 And many a lesser ward-liiil beamed* 
 At Ola's feet on Thorstjeid crest 
 Up springs a laverock from its nest, 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 55 
 
 To raise on high the morning song 
 
 Whicli fellow-choristers prcJong. 
 
 The bright north-east still brighter glows, 
 
 Each night-born shadow fainter grows, 
 
 Till in full blaze of summer light 
 
 The glorious sun bursts on the sight. 
 
 Part II. 
 
 The days pass on. The summer dies ; 
 On wings the Shetland autunun flies ; 
 Low in the south the sun's pale }>all 
 Contends with clouds, which conquer all. 
 Bleak winds across the moorlands roar ; 
 Thunder the waves along the shore. 
 On Rona's peak and Halaleigh 
 The early snows lie, scant and grey. 
 A six-hours' day ! Winter has come ; 
 Now is the sky a leaden dome,; 
 While tossed and fanned by Boreas old, 
 'J'he cloud-chaft' sweeps o'er hill and wold. 
 
 One dark December morn, when wind 
 And drifting snow their might combined, 
 And over naked land and sea 
 Uuled with unbridled tyranny. 
 
56 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Within the house of Ohi Brand 
 
 His servants all assembled stand. 
 
 They meet to search the wilds for sheep 
 
 Beneath the snowdrifts Vjuried deep, 
 
 In glens, and dahls, and skords, and gylls,* 
 
 Upon the lee-sides of the hills. 
 
 "Do ye," said Ola to the men, 
 
 "Hold northward over Levenden, 
 
 The slopes of Halaleigh ascend, 
 
 And westward thence your course must ten] 
 
 Across the wastes to Westerdahl, 
 
 Scouring' the glens and passes all. 
 
 To Thorsfjeld I will take my course — 
 
 Ye fear the Thief and Demon-horse ; 
 
 But ne'er must it be said that I 
 
 From man or fiend did flinch or tly." 
 
 Then speedilj'^ the peasants shared 
 The digging implements prepared, 
 And forth upon their (juest they fared 
 
 Into the blinding grey. 
 And soon the stoutest of the throng 
 Of Ola's ponies, staunch and strong,! 
 
 * " Skords and itfylls" — gorges and ravines, 
 t See Note IV. 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Hair black and shaggy, thick and long, 
 
 His master bore away. 
 Along the stormy ridges swept 
 Clean bare, the watchful Northman kept, 
 Though oft pei-force the pony leapt 
 
 O'er hollows full of snow. 
 Fierce growled the blast, with growing wrath> 
 In eddying gusts around their path ; 
 They held the course with laboring breath. 
 
 They scarce could see to go. 
 
 So passed they on, o'er moor and bog, 
 Till, dimly through the rushing fog. 
 
 The bulk of Thorsfjeld loomed ; 
 And high above the windy jar 
 Rose the deep tones of ocean's war, 
 As through the Dorholm arch afar 
 
 The billows rolled and boomed. 
 The Thorsfjeld glens traversing round, 
 With care did Ola search and sound, 
 And many a buried flock he found, 
 
 Some dead, but most alive ; 
 For those small sheep are brave and stout. 
 The wintry storms they weather out ; 
 Roaming the treeless wilds about, 
 
 On heather shoots they thrive. 
 
■pp 
 
 m 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 And Shetland snows are quickly gone, 
 By furious sea-gales overblown. 
 
 The mountain slopes he thus explored 
 Northward, to where the surges roared, 
 When, rounding a projecting rock. 
 The pony swerved, with sudden shock. 
 And there the Thief before them stood, 
 His right hand grasped his iron rod 
 (The selfsame bar by Ola sent 
 Far through the summer firmament), 
 A struggling sheep was in his left. 
 Whose skull a recent blow had cleft. 
 
 Iiii!l 
 
 Dropping his prey, with blackest scowl. 
 He raised his bolt and with a howl 
 At Ola sprang, whose iron hand 
 Received the blow, but took command 
 Of the grim weapon. Whirled on high, 
 The Dwarf still clung tenaciously, 
 Till dashed to earth, the horse's feet 
 Made his discomfiture complete. 
 
 Not thus might that dark life be sped ; 
 Instant he writhed him free and fled 
 Staffless. He seemed to fly as fast 
 As if with wings, before the blast, 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Heading where winds and waters rave 
 Around the cliiF that guards his cave. 
 
 Fast in pursuit did Ola come, 
 Urging his pony through the gloom, 
 Though scarce the sturdy beast had need 
 Of hand or voice to quicken speed ; 
 And many a rough ravine they crossed, 
 But soon the fleeing shape was lost — 
 Enveloped in the murky white, 
 xVway it passed beyond their sight. 
 
 They reached a " gyll " })oth wide and deep ; 
 Endless its length, its sides were steep, 
 
 And drifted soft below. 
 The pony rose in headlong leap ; 
 He touched, but footing could not keep, 
 And man and horse, all in a heap, 
 
 Rolled back into the snow. 
 Quickly arising, Brand espied 
 A horse upon the farther side, 
 
 And, in the gully broad 
 Deep sunk, he left his own to wait 
 Till he returned, or extricate 
 His wallowing bulk alone, by fate 
 
 The Stranger he bestrode. 
 
(io 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 I 
 
 With arrowy speed the Stranger tlew 
 Away, away ; the path he knew, 
 
 Up Thorsfjeld's mighty breast ; 
 And hot his body seemed to grow 
 To Ola's touch, and flakes of snow 
 Fizzed on his hide, and made no show ; 
 
 And ever on he pressed » 
 
 Till, as he reached the topmost height. 
 Beneath his feet the frosty white 
 
 Did blacken, melt, and hiss. 
 Fire from his eyes and nostrils sprung, 
 And back to earth the Northman flung 
 Himself, as out the Demon swung 
 
 Into the wild al)yss ! 
 
 Then, as he crouched upon the verge. 
 Shriek upon shriek rose o'er the surge — 
 
 Dreadful unearthly cries. 
 The shuddering giant feebly crawled 
 Close to the brink, and shrank appalled. 
 
 Far down the precipice. 
 Dim, as the spray-clouds swept aside 
 A space, the Outlaw he descried. 
 Clinging, with aspect horrified, 
 
 Above his cavern door ; 
 While close beside, on sable wing. 
 The Demon-horse was hovering. 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 u 
 
 Xot timely succor now to bring ; 
 
 No, furiously he tore 
 The slirieking wretch, who strove in vain 
 With one long hand to grasp his mane. 
 Eluding each dire stretch and strain, 
 The taunting fiend, with hellish pain 
 
 His whilom master wore. 
 And now the spray mists intervene 
 A welcome veil across the scene ; 
 And now they hreak — the clift' is clean. 
 
 That sight >vas seen no more. 
 
 And thus the region had relief ; 
 Thus vanished from the wilds the Thief. 
 Never again on Thorsfjeld's crest 
 Did he appear, or sheep molest. 
 
 \ 
 
 His staff, preserved by Ola Brand, 
 Was long the wonder of the land. 
 No human blacksmith forged the bar ; 
 'Twas wrought beneath the earth afar. 
 If anyone save Brand alone 
 (Whose mastery now it seemed to own) 
 Did handle it, as men are prone, 
 It burned his fingers to the bone. 
 But greatest marvels pall at last, 
 And this strange relic of the past, 
 
^ 
 
 li ! 
 
 62 
 
 THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 V \ 
 
 Of trows or elves the workmanship, 
 
 Was destined by ill chance to slip 
 
 From place of honor dismally ; 
 
 For Ola fashioned it to be 
 
 A thing a menial place to fill — 
 
 The spindle of a water-mill !* , 
 
 And thus it wore itself away 
 
 With groans and shrieks from day to day. 
 
 Sparks flew from underneath the mill ; 
 
 In truth it served the purpose ill. 
 
 At length one night when winds were high, j 
 And densest clouds obscured the sky ; 
 When, swoln with melting snow and rain, 
 The burn of Shandrick rose amain, 
 Forth to the mill, through slush and mire, 
 With corn to grind, went Hakon Gyar. 
 
 Quick as the (juern began to spin 
 Did ear-astound Jng screams begin. 
 Around the mill, above, below. 
 Wild yells of more than human woe. 
 Louder and louder waxed the cries ; 
 The peasant's hair began to rise. 
 Now Hakon Gyar, though he did try 
 His own exploits to magnify, 
 
 * See Note V. 
 
THE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 6a 
 
 Was not faint hearted, but to hear 
 
 That din was more than man could bear. 
 
 And so he was about to turn 
 
 The stream, and stop tlie uncanny quern, 
 
 When suddenly, with thunderous roar, 
 
 The mill-roof bodily uptore 
 
 From off the walls, and fled away ; 
 
 And Gyar in utter darkness lay, 
 
 Crouched in a corner, stunned with fright, 
 
 Staring upon a fearsome sight. 
 
 For lo ! the Sheep Thief's awful form, 
 
 Bright, mid the blackness of the storm, 
 
 Upon the flying mill-stone stood 
 
 And pointed to his ancient rod. 
 
 The tlying mill-stone rent in two. 
 
 Into his hand the spindle flew, 
 
 And through the floor, in dark turmoil. 
 
 The waters break, and round them boil. 
 
 Wildly the shattered building sways ; 
 
 It trembles, totters, to its base; 
 
 The walls bend inward. With a bound 
 
 Gyar cleared the door, and, well-nigh drowned,. 
 
 He struggled to a knoll, which stood 
 
 An island in the raging flood. 
 
G4 
 
 ThE SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 Down went the mill, in ruin down ; 
 Above it foamed the waters brown, 
 And on the knoll, in mortal fear. 
 The peasant kept his vigil drear, 
 Till V)roke the gloomy morn at last, 
 And through the shallowing tide he passr'd, 
 Reaching his home ; but from that night 
 His form was bent, his hair was white. 
 
 NOTES TO THK SHEEP THIEF. 
 
 I.— Often a birdnester, hanging by a rope, will see a nest safe from his i 
 under a jutting crag. Sometimes, when the cliff has only a moderate iirojV- 
 he overcomes the ditticulty by bracing his feet against the face of tht tlfj 
 bounding outward. Being instantly let down from above, his inward bwa\ 
 to carry him under the crag to his oV)ject, 
 
 II.— "Tangie" was an evil spirit in the form of a black horse. If v: 
 mounted him, he would immediately go over the nearest cliff in a blue ; 
 He differed from ordinary ponies in having cloven hoofs. 
 
 III. — Each flock of "skarfs," or cormorants, has a sentinel or nightwatd 
 stationed a little apart from the rest ; and if he can be secured without noixj 
 others are an easy prey. 
 
 IV.— "Ponies staunch and strong." It is a well-known fact that arci.| 
 fashioned Shetland pony will trot away easily and sure-footedly under a irji 
 heavy as himself. He is also remarkably intelligent. 
 
 V. — "A water-mill." The Shetland grain mills are of very primitive 
 struction, consisting merely of the two millstones and a horizontal wheelc 
 the floor beneath them. This wheel and the ujjper stone are (Irmly cotineoieJ 
 an iron rod, called a si>iiidle, which passes through a hole in the nether inillvJ 
 consci^uently the wheel and the mill revolve at exactly the same rate of > J 
 Of course, such machinery recjuires a very strong force of water, and thi'l 
 mills are useless except when the streams are high. In fact, heavy rainif 
 known in Shetland as "mill-waters." 
 
 There may be half a dozen of these structures, belonging to different had 
 all within a mile's radiu«, and there are no millers, but each villager hasthij 
 of the mill on a certain day of the week, and grinds his own corn. 
 
vn 
 
 \vn. 
 
 > 
 
 ist, 
 
 e he passed, 
 lat night 
 white. 
 
 est safe from his t 
 a moderate jirojd 
 he face of the ditj 
 2, his inward sway.^ 
 
 black horse. If ari 
 st clifl in a blue I 
 
 itiiiel or nightwatcy 
 :;ured without noisel 
 
 »wn fact that areij 
 footedly under a r 
 
 5 of very primitive j 
 I horizontal wheel c 
 ! are firmly conneciH 
 5 in the nether rriillsJ 
 the same rate of *!l 
 e of water, and thuil 
 In fact, heavy rainij 
 
 fing to different had 
 each villager has tlit| 
 wn corn. 
 
■ "lU! Ill im