It was nearly midwinter now, and the West Highland days were very short and heavily overcast; by early afternoon the light was already growing dim. The wind continued blowing relentlessly, and although it was not as wild as it had been, it was quite strong enough to constantly ruffle Algy’s feathers and blow sand into his eyes. He looked for a sheltered spot out of the wind, but there was none to be found. So Algy settled on a rock which was less exposed than some of the others, and sat there quietly listening to the sea ebb and flow around him as darkness fell.


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