The old man sat down on a low chair by the chimney corner, took off his bonnet, closed his eyes and murmured some almost inaudible words; then repeated in Gaelic the first line of the hundred and third psalm O m' anam, beannuich thus' a nis and raised a tune of marvellous wail.
But it's ta young and ta strong she is pringing home to Tuncan. O m'anam, beannuich!" Involuntarily all eyes turned towards the point called the Death's Head, which bounded the bay on the east. "It's ower dark to see onything," said the man on the window sill. "Yes," said Duncan, "it'll pe too tark for you who haf cot no eyes only to speak of.