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At night, many times he rose out of the darkness of the companion, such as a phantom above a grave, and stood watchful and mute under the stars, his night-shirt fluttering like a flag then, without a sound, sank down again. He was born on the shores of the Pentland Firth. In his youth he attained the rank of harpooner in Peterhead whalers.
The pier was a busy scene; hand-carts going to and fro over the railroads, cranes at work charging and discharging, plenty of workmen, and fine masses of red granite from the Peterhead quarries. The quay was almost covered with barrels of herrings, which women were busily employed in salting and packing."
It was Telford who formed the harbour of Wick, which has since grown from a miserable fishing village into a large town, the capital of the North Sea herring fisheries. It was he who enlarged the petty port of Peterhead into the chief station of the flourishing whaling trade.
Six weeks after landing at Peterhead, in Scotland, he started back again without having struck a blow, without having set eyes upon the enemy, leaving to King George I. the easy task of avenging himself by sending to death upon the scaffold the noblest victims.
Dick, however, braved it out, but grew more and more yellow and woebegone. "This won't do," observed papa; "it's fortunate that we have a port under our lee. Up helm, ease away the main sheet. We'll let the Dolphin know that we are running for Peterhead." The Dolphin followed our example; and away we went, careering on before the fast-rising seas.
We had hardly gone a hundred yards before M'Donald of Peterhead cried out that he saw something in front of us, and began to run. We all got a glimpse of it and ran too. At first it was only a vague darkness against the white ice, but as we raced along together it took the shape of a man, and eventually of the man of whom we were in search. He was lying face downwards upon a frozen bank.
Peterhead stands on the most easterly part of the mainland of Scotland, occupying the north-east side of the bay, and being connected with the country on the northwest by an isthmus only 800 yards broad. In Cromwell's time, the port possessed only twenty tons of boat tonnage, and its only harbour was a small basin dug out of the rock.
It is a lovely spot, between Aberdeen and Peterhead, just under the rock-bound headland whence the long, dangerous reefs known as The Spurs run out into the North Sea. Between this and the 'Mains of Crooken' a village sheltered by the northern cliffs lies the deep bay, backed with a multitude of bent-grown dunes where the rabbits are to be found in thousands.
This comprehensive plan unhappily could not be carried out at the time for want of funds; but it may be said to have formed the groundwork of all that has been subsequently done for the improvement of the port of Peterhead. It was resolved, in the first place, to commence operations by improving the south harbour, and protecting it more effectually from south-easterly winds.
But while we were touching at Peterhead, the principal port for the fitting of vessels destined for the seal fishery, the Prince, and M. de la Ronciere, Commander of 'La Reine Hortense, gathered from conversations with the fishermen just returned from their spring expedition some important information on the actual state of the ice.
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