Kenric brought his galley to the shoreward of her consorts, so that
leaning over the bulwarks he might see this land of Gigha that was now
his own. The coast was wild and barren, with black jagged rocks rising
high out of a bed of foaming breakers, but sloping off from the steep
headlands into green upland pastures, striped with glistening streams.
Through a long rock tunnel that pierced the cliffs he could see the
light of the morning sun rays, and the great Atlantic rollers, breaking
in the midst of this tunnel, shot up in a cloud of spray through two
open shafts and roared with thunderous noise.
At the middle of the island, which is but six miles in length, was the
hill of Dunchifil, crowned with a strong fortress.
The ships, sailing up the western shores, came at last into the
harbourage of a calm landlocked bay, whose waters were so crystal clear
that one might see the pebbles and sea urchins at the bottom, many
fathoms deep. So, when the anchors were all down a longboat was launched
from the Dragon, and Kenric, with Sir Piers, Allan Redmain, and one
William MacAlpin, a cousin to the late Earl Hamish, were rowed ashore.
From a castle at the head of the bay there came down an armed Norseman,
followed by a dozen swordsmen.
"Whose are these ships?" said he with a loud voice, "and what men are ye
who have brought them hither?"
"Methinks our banner might tell you that they are the ships of his
Majesty of Scots," said Kenric stepping forward.
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