Then back to a promontory of heather, where the first beams of the sun coming over the Coolin dried our skins.

He sat hunched up staring at the mountains while I prospected the rocks at the edge.
Out in the Minch two destroyers were hurrying southward, and I wondered where in that waste of blue was the craft which had come here in the night watches.
I found the spoor of the man from the sea quite fresh on a patch of gravel above the tide-mark.
'There's our friend of the night,' I said.
'I believe the whole thing was a whimsy,' said Wake, his eyes on the chimneys of Sgurr Dearg.

'They were only two natives--poachers, perhaps, or tinkers.' 'They don't speak German in these parts.' 'It was Gaelic probably.' 'What do you make of this, then ?' and I quoted the stuff about birds with which they had greeted each other.
Wake looked interested.

'That's _Uber allen Gipfeln_.

Have you ever read Goethe ?' 'Never a word.