The Edge of the World Page #3

I forbid it. A mad race like this

can settle nothing.

I'll not speak here of the defiance

in which I've been set by my own son.

I want you to speak of it.

This affects every man on the island.

You keep silent.

The boy's right, Peter Manson.

We're dealing with a question each

one of us has got to face squarely.

It's your homes, your families

and your future lives.

- Am I no right?

- (Murmurs of assent)

I'm no trying to read my elders any

lesson. A man must think for himself.

For hundreds of years now,

this parliament has met

every working morn.

But in a thousand years,

it's never faced the problem we face.

Year by year,

the population's shrinking.

Look what happened to Mingulay

and St Kilda,

islands barren now

that once supported people.

What happened in the Hebrides

will happen here.

You canna fight against it,

you canna stop it.

As I see it, it's...

it's every man for himself.

That's all I have to say.

And I came back here to say it.

Well, as you all know, I'm no

great hand at public speaking.

Except in kirk, John!

Thank you, James. Even then, it takes

me a week to make up my sermons.

But Robbie here makes out

a very good case.

And he says we can't fight it.

Can't fight? You mean

you won't fight, some of ye!

Look out there.

Trawlers sweeping the sea

wi' their nets,

loading their boats wi' fish

that belong to us island men,

ruining the new spawn

wi' their damned otter boards.

Three-mile limit.

What does it mean to them?

A dint in the head with a lump of

coal is all you get if you warn them.

What's the good of it?

Restrictions, that's what we want,

that's what we'll pray for.

The damn fools are ruining

their own game, as well as ours.

They've swept the shore

as bare as this hand,

you have to steam further out,

that means more coal,

then where's the profit?

Fight. Man, I've fought them

and the like all my life.

I've kept a roof over my croft,

brought my children up decently.

And then to have you, Robbie,

tell me it's each man for himself,

and act as though you spoke

for half the island,

when you're not two days back from

working for the boats that ruined us!

Three months' work

and 63 to show for it!

Shillings is what I'd be showing

if I'd stayed on Hirta.

- Och, you're no son o' mine!

- Don't take it so hard, Peter, man.

The boy's just said

what had to be said.

Men we must have,

and where are we going to get them?

Oh, this tale o' Robbie's has been

in my mind for a long while.

Now, if we was to petition

the Government,

there's little doubt we'd get free

transportation and a grant o' land.

I would remind you, James Gray,

that that is for the laird to decide.

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