T H E L O S T P B R O C H I .

O the m ake o f a piper go seven

ye a rs of his own le a rning a n d

seven generations before . If it

t he e old - is in , it will out , as Ga lic word

n ot says ; if , let him take to the net or

sword . At the end of his seven years one born to it will stand at the start o f

to knowledge , and leaning a fond ear the

e drone , he may hav parley with old folks

a o f old affairs . Pl ying the tune o f the

“ fore fol k s Fairy Harp , he can hear his ,

a - pl ided in skins , towsy headed and terrible , grunting at the oars and snoring in the A 2 ibr ock 4 T/ze L ost P . caves ; he has his whittle and club in the

“ Desperate Battle (my own tune , my dar

- - ling l) , where the white haired sea rovers are

’ on of on the shore , and a stain s the edge

or on the tide ; , trying his art Laments , he can stand by the cairn of kings , ken the

’ of colour Fingal s hair , and see the moon glint on the h ook of the Druids !

To - day there are but three pipers in the

o f wide world , from the Sound Sleat to the

of . Wall France Who they are, and what their tartan , it is not for one to tell who has no heed for a thousand dirks in his doublet , but they may be known by the

who lucky ones hear them . N amely players ti c kle the chanter and take ou t b u t the sound ; the three give a tune the charm that

— ’ I mention a long thought and a bard s thought , and they bring the notes from the deeps of time , and the tale from the heart of who the man made it .

But n ot o f the three best in Albainn to ' fi L o t P z r oc/z T e s b . 5

day is my story , for they have not the Lost

Pibroch . It is of the three best , who were — not bad , in a place I ken Half Town that stands in the wood .

You may rove for a thousand years on

- league long brogues , or hurry on fairy wings

from isle to isle and deep to deep , and find n o equ al to that same Half Town . I t is

of not the splendour of it , nor the riches its folk ; it is not any great routh of field or

- sheep fank , but the scented winds of it , and the comfort of the pine - trees ro u nd and about it on every hand . My mother used to be saying (when I had the notion o f

a f iry tales) , that once on a time , when the

e woods wer young and thin , there was a

u road thro gh them , and the pick of children of a co u ntry - side wandered among them into this place to play at sheilings . Up grew the trees , fast and tall , and shut the little folks in so that the way out they could n ot get if they had the mind for it . But never an '

6 Tfie L ost P zbr oclz.

for out they wished . They grew with the

of firs and alders , a quiet clan in the heart

- of b . the big wood , clear the world out y

But n ow and then wanderers would come to Half Town , through the gloomy coves , under the tall trees . There were packmen

- with tales of the out world . There were broken men flying from rope or hatchet .

And once on a day o f days came two pipers

—Gi1ian of of S trathl ac hl a n , Clan Lachlan ,

o f M ac n a hton s and Rory Ban , the g of Dun d ara ve . They had seen Half Town from the — sea smoking to the clear air on the hillside ;

c and through the weary woods they ame , and

of on the dead quiet them , and they stood

of fl r- b the edge the elt . Before them was what might be a township

on e in a dream , and to be seen at the look , for it stood on the rising hill that goes back on Lochow .

o u The dogs barked , and ut from the ho ses and in from the fields came the quiet clan to Tk e L t P ié r c/z os o . 7

s e e f who could be here . Biggest o all the

on e on men , they named Coll , cried the

strangers to come forward ; so out they

W - n or ent from the wood edge , neither coy

of or crouse , but the equal friend foe , and

they passed the word of day .

“ E asa c hosain Hunting , they said , in , we

found the roe come this way .

“ ’ I f this way she came , she s at Duglas

Water by now , so you may bide and eat . Few ,

indeed , come calling on us in Half Town ;

’ but whoever they are , here s the Open door , and the horn spoon , and the stool by the

fire .

n or He took them in and he fed them , asked their names nor calling , but when

“ Yo u they had eaten well he said to Rory , have skill of the pipes ; I know by the drum

” of your fingers on the horn spoon .

” I have tried them , said Rory , with a “ — a . laugh , a bit bit My friend here is a player . t r k 8 Tfie L os P ib oc .

a e a r a You h v the t ? sked Coll .

e a ou W ll , not wh t y might call the whole

H “ — a rt a oh ! , s id Gilian , but I can play yes

I can play two or three ports .

You can that l said Rory .

N o better than yourself, Rory .

— a ll Well , maybe not , but anyway, not

’ ’ tunes ; I allow you d o Mackay s Banner in

” a pretty style .

to Pipers , said Coll , with a quick eye

“ o u a coming quarrel , I will take y to one of own —Pa ru i your trade in this place g Dall ,

” who is namely for music .

“ ’ ’ It s a name that s new to me , said

Rory , short and sharp , but up they rose and followed Big Coll . He took them to a bothy behind the Half

c Town , a pla e with turf walls and never a window , where a blind man sat winding

- pirns for the weaver folks .

“ This , said Coll , showing the strangers

“ ’ of or I in at the door , is a piper parts , m ’ Tlz e L ost P z é r c/z o . 9

u ha s no j dge , and he as rare a stand of great

” pipes as ever my eyes sat on .

“ ’ I have that same , said the blind man ,

“ with his face to the door . Your friends , Coll ?

“ of Two pipers the neighbourhood , Rory

“ made answer . It was for no piping we

came here , but by the accident of the chase .

o n Still and , if pipes are here , piping there

” might be .

“ “ o So be it , cried Coll ; but I must g back to my cattle till night comes . Get

’ to a P a ru i you the pl ying with g Dall , and I ll

find you here when I come back . And with

a off th t he turned about and went .

Parig put d own the al e and cake before the

wo . t men , and Welcome you are , said he

’ They ate the stranger s bite , and lipped

’ “ ‘ the stranger s cup , and then , Whistle The

’ c Ma raes March , my fair fellow , said the blind man

’ ” How ken you I m fair ? asked Rory. 9 [ O The L ost 1 25 7 00 6.

a ha s Your t o ngue t ells th a t . A f ir man

a c e the a aye soft bit in his spee h , lik l pping

a of milk in a cogie ; and black one , like

u yo r friend there , has the sharp ring of a thin burn in frost running into a n iron

‘ ’ ’ ” in c l a ocha . pot . The Macraes M ar h ,

Rory put a pucker on his mouth and played a little of the fine tune . “ ! ” So said the blind man , with his head

“ to . a side , you had your lesson And you ,

S trathl a c hl an my boy without beard , do you

‘ ’ ken M u in ntir a Ghl in n e

’ How ken ye I m S trathl ac hl an and beard

” less ? asked Gilian .

“ S trathl a c hl an by the smell of herring s c a le from your side o f the house (for they told me yesterday the gannets were flying

Strathl ac hl an down way , and that means

ou hea rd fishing) , and y have no I know ,

” but in what way I know I do not know .

Gilian had the siu bhal of the pibro c h but

begun when the blind man stopped him . ’ t r /z 1 Tlze L os P zé oc . I

“ Yo u a he h ve it , said , you have it in

’ ’ a c u way , the Ma arth r s way , and that s not

w a e to o ur my y . But , no matt r , let us

” piping .

The three men sat them down on thre e

’ c a the a stools on the l y floor , and blind m n s

pipes passed round between them .

” P a ru i m an First , said g (being the of the

of own house , and to get the vein his pipes)

—“ ’ ‘ fi r st I ll put on them The

e old He stood to his shanks , a l an man m and straight , and the big drone ca e nigh

n c a o the bla k rafters . H e filled the bag t

’ a breath and swu ng a love r s arm round about it . To those who know not the pipes , the feel of the bag in the oxter is a

u e gaiety lost . The sweet ro nd curv is like

’ a girl s waist ; it is friendly and warm in

’ the c rook o f the elbow and ag a inst a man s

to side , and to press it is bring laughing or tears .

The bothy roared with the tuning , and ’ P z m cfi 1 2 7 71 6 L ost é .

then the air came melting and sweet from E the c hanter . ight steps up , four to the

Pa r u i turn , and eight down went g , and the pioba irea chd r o lled to his fingers like a

’ man s rhyming . The two men sat on the

on stools , with their elbows their knees , and listened .

a Wl a r cr un He pl yed but the , and the dh l ua to save time , and he played them well .

! m e ! Good indeed Splendid , y old f llow

“ c a ried the two ; and said Gilian , You h ve

cr un l ua dh a way of it in the not my way , but

” as good as ever I heard .

“ P a d ru i O a It is the way of g g , s id Rory . Well I know it ! There are tunes and

‘ ’ e V tun s , and The aunting is not bad

‘ ’ in its way , but give me The Macraes

He j umped to his feet and took the pipes ’ hi from the old man s hands , and over s

shoulder with the drones . ' T/t e L os t P zb r oc/z I . 3

” a ! St nd back , lad he cried to Gilian , a n d a e Gilian went ne r r the door .

The m arc h c ame fa st to the c h a nter the old tune , the fine tune that Kintail

a e has he rd before , wh n the wild men in their red tartan came over hill and moor ; the tune with the river in it , the fast river and the courageous that kens not stop nor

u u a tarry , that r ns ro nd rock and over f ll

a with good humour , yet no mood for any thing but the way before it . The t u ne of

the heroes , the tune of the pinelands and the broad straths , the tune that the eagles o f Loch D u ic h crac k their beaks togeth e r

c o f a when they hear , and the rows th t c ountry - side wo u ld as soon listen to as the squ e al of their babies .

“ ” ! ! a P a r u i a Well mighty well s id g D ll .

a You have the tartan of the cl n in it .

’ ”

a . N ot bad , I ll allow , s id Gilian Let me try .

on the e He put his fingers hol s , and his ' T/ze L ost P zé r oc/z 1 4 .

o a c two e h e a rt t ok a leap b k over g nerations , a n d yo nder was Glencoe ! The grey day c rawled on the white hills and the bl a ck

o e . ro fs smoked b low Snow choked the pass, m s and corri filled with drift and fiatted to the brae - face ; the wind tossed quirky and cru e l in the little bushes and among the sm ooring lintels and j oists ; the blood of

on old and young lappered the hearthstone , a n d the bairn , with a knifed throat , had an

of a icy lip on a frozen teat . Out the pl ce went the tramped path of the Campbell — butchers far o n their way to Glenlyon and the towns of paper and ink and liars

“ ’ ’ M uin n tir hlin n e muin n tir hl in n a g so , a g e — o f so People , people , people this glen , this

” l en glen , this g l “ Dogs ! dogs ! 0 God of grace—dogs and ! ” “ cowards cried Rory . I could be dirking a Dia r maid or two if by luck they were near

’3 me .

“ Farui It is pip ing that is to be here , said g » ' Tb e L ost P zér oc/z 1 . 5

and it is not piping for an hour nor piping

r f fo an evening, but the piping o Dunvegan

” that stops for sleep nor supper . So the three stayed in the bothy and played tune about while time went by the door . The

b irds flew home to the branches , the long necked beasts flap p ed off to the shore to sp e ar their flat fish ; the rutting deers bellowed with loud throats in the deeps of the wood that f stands round Half Town , and the scents o

m u the moist night ca e g sty round the door .

Over the back of A u c hn ab rea c the sun trailed his plaid of red and yellow , and the loch stretched salt and dark from Cairn D u bh to

C reagg an s . In from the hill the men and the women

- came , weary legged , and the bairns nodded at

their heels . Sleepiness was on the land , but h the pipers , piping in the bot y , kept the world awake .

m s a We will go to bed in good ti e , id the

u e folks , eating their s ppers at th ir doors ; in ' Tk e L ost P zbr oc/z [ 6 .

good time when this tune is ended . But

u on r t ne came tune , and every tune bette than its neighbour , and they waited .

A cruisie - light was set alowe in the blind

’ man s bothy , and the three men played old tunes and new tunes—salute and lament and brisk dances and marches that coax tired

r oa . brogues o n the l on g . d s

’ ‘ ’ Here s Tulloch Ard for you , and tell me who made it , said Rory .

’ ’ Who kens that ? Here s R a a s ay s

’ P a d ru i o Lament , the best port g M r ever

” put together .

’ ’ Tunes and tunes . I m for A Kiss 0 the

’ King s Hand .

“ ’ ’ Thu mi o us o us e g p g p g p g ,

T u mi o d o l amh n h g p g a righ ,

Cha d o chuir ao an c ra i i n n r g th c o c ao a c h, ” F ear a fhuair an fhaoil t a ch mi 1

on for Then a quietness came Half Town , the piping stopped , and the people at their 56 t r c/z 7 7 L os P ib o . I 7 doors heard but their blood thu m ping and

- the night bags in the dark o f the fi rwood . “ A little longer and maybe there will be

more , they said to each other , and they waited ; but no more music came from the

drones , so they went in to bed .

There was quiet over Half Town , for the three pipers talked about the Lost Tune .

“ A man my father knew , said Gilian ,

id ea r heard a bit o f it once in M o t . A terrible fine tune he said it was , but sore

” o n the mind .

It would be the tripling , said the Mac

n a hton . g , stroking a reed with a fond hand

a . M ybe Tripling is ill enough , but what is tripling ? There is more in piping than

P a ru i ? brisk fingers . Am I not right , g

“ ir ea chd ! . P ioba Right , oh right The Lost

M a c ru im en asks for skilly tripling , but himself could not get at the core of it for a l l his art .

You have heard it then cried Gilian . '

1 8 Tb e L ost P zé r ociz .

The blind man stood up and filled out his breast .

“ ” “ Heard it ! he said ; I heard it , and I — i on ea dan . play t the f , but not on the full set

To play the t u n e I mention o n the fu ll set is what I have not done since I came to Half

Town .

“ S I have ten round pieces in my porran , and a bonnet - brooch it would take mu c h to

’ part me from ; but they re there for the man

’ ” P ioba ir ea ckd who ll play me the Lost , said

t o Gilian , with the words ripping each other t the tip of his tongue .

’ ’ And here s a M a c n aghton s fortune o n the

” of top the round pieces , cried Rory , emptying

u his p rse on the table .

’ “ The old man s face got hot and angry . I

” ’ am not , he said , a tinker s minstrel , to give

u f my tuning for bawbees and a q aich o ale . The king hi m self could not buy the tune I ken

ha d B u if he but a whim for it . t when pipers

’ e ask it th y can have it , and it s yours without

P i r ck 20 T/ze L ost b o .

’ a a ling s whimper , th t , heard in the night , sets man ’s mind busy on the sorrows that folks are

on born to . The drones clattered together the

’ piper s elbow and he stayed .

“ ” I have a notion , he said to the two men .

I d id not tell you that the Lost P iobair eachd

’

- is the piobazr ea chd of good byes . It is the tune

of broken clans , that sets the men on the foray

- and makes cold hearth stones . It was played in Gl en shira when Gilleasbuig G rua m a c h could stretc h stout swordsmen from Bosh a ng to Ben

hu id he Gl en shira B , and where are the folks of this day ? I saw a c heery night in Carnus

’ that s over Lochow , and song and story busy

M o id eart about the fire , and the man played it for a wager . In the morning the weans were

without fathers , and Carnus men were scattered

” o about the wide w rld .

“ a u It must be the m gic tune, sure eno gh , said Gilian .

l a oclza in he e Magic indeed , It is t tun

m a that puts men on the Open road , that kes ' 7 72 L o t P z r /z 6 s é oc . 2 1

’ restless lads and seeking women . Here s a

Half Town of dreamers and men fattening for

’ a w nt of men s work . They forget the world is

fi r - wide and round about their trees , and I can make them crave for something they cannot name .

o r Good bad , out with it , said Rory,

” o u a t if y know it all .

’ ’ e m a Mayb no , ybe no . I am old and done .

Perhaps I have lost the right skill of the tune ,

’ for it s long since I put it on the great pipe . There ’s in me the strong notion to try it what

’ ” ever may come of it , and here s for it .

He put his pipe up again , filled the bag at a m breath , brought the boo ing to the drones , and then the chanter - reed cried sharp and high .

’ ’ Gil ia n He s on it , said Rory in s ear .

The grou ndwork of the tune was a drum ming on the deep notes where the sorrows lie

“ - m Co e , come , come , my children , rain on

a n the brae d the wind blowing . ’

2 2 T/ze L ost P z é r oc/z .

u . I t is a sal te , said Rory

’ It s the strange tune anyway, said G il

“ ” ian ; listen to the time of yon ! The tune searched through Half Town and into the gloomy pine - wood ; it put an end to the whoop o f the night - hag and rang to Ben

on B hreac . Boatmen deep and far the loch

to could hear it , and Half Town folks sat up listen . It ’s story was the story that ’s ill to tell

’ something of the heart s longing and the curious c hances of life . It bound up all the

on e tales of all the clans , and made tale of the

’ Gaels past . Dirk nor sword against the tar tan , but the tartan against all else , and the

’ Gaels target fending the hill - land and the juicy straths from the pock - pitted little black men . The winters and the summers passing fast and furious , day and night roaring in the

ears , and then again the clans at variance , and

on n warders every pass and o every parish .

Then the tune changed . ' Tb e t P r iz 2 L os zb oc . 3

’

e . s Folks , said the re ds , coaxing Wide

’ the world and merry the road . Here s but the old story and the women we kissed before .

- Come , come to the flat lands rich and full , where the wonderful new things happen and the women ’s lips are still to try ! ”

’ - To morrow , said G ilian in his friend s ear

- to morrow I will go j aunting to the North .

” It has been in my mind since Beltane .

One might be doing worse , said Rory , and I have the notion to try a trip with my cousin to the foreign wars .

The blind piper put up his sho u lder higher and rolled the air into the cr un lu a dh br ca ba ck that comes prancing with variations . Pride

f to stif ened him from heel to hip , and hip head , and set his sinews like steel . He was t elling of the gold to get for the searching and the bucks that may be had

“ . e for the hunting What , said the r eds ,

c a are your poor crops , slashed by the onst n t

t rain and rotting , all for a scar in the bottom ’ The L ost P zé r oe/z 2 4 . of a pot ? What are your stots and heifers — — - black , dun , and yellow to milch cows and horses ? Here ’s but the same for ever—toil

on and sleep , sleep and toil even , no feud — n or foray n or castles to harry only the starved field and the sleeping moss . Let us to a brisker place ! Over yonder are the long straths and the deep rivers and town ships strewn thick as your corn - rigs ; over

’ ’ yonder s the place of the p ac km en s tales

’ and the p a c km en s wares : steep we the

” withies and go !

The two men stood with heads full of — bravery and dreaming men in a carouse .

“ This, said they, is the notion we had ,

’ but had no words for . I t s a poor trade piping and eating and making amusement when one might be wandering up and down

the world . We must be packing the haver

’ sac k s fi

Then the cr un luadk mach came fast and

o on furi us the chanter , and Half Town ' fi oefi 2 T e L ost P zé r . 5

shook with it . It buzzed in the ear like the flowers in the Honey Croft , and made commotion among the birds rocking on their eggs in the wood .

“ ” ' 5 0 ! so ! barked the iolmr on Craig - an

“ eas . I have heard before it was an ill

’ thing to be satisfied ; in the morning I ll

on - try the kids Maam side , for the hares

u here are wersh and to gh . Hearken ,

“ l on du bh dear, said the . I know now why my beak is gold ; it is because I once ate

richer berries than the whortle , and in

’ sea son I ll look for them on the braes of

” “ ” - Gl en fi n n e . u n k Honk , said the fox , the

“ u c nning red fellow , am not I the fool to be st a ying on this little brae wh e n I know

” so many roads elsewhere ? And the people sitting up in their beds

in Half Town moaned for something new .

“ P aru ig Dall is putting the strange t u ne on ” her there , said they . What the m ean

of a sk ing it is we must in the morning , ’ 2 6 Tfie L t P zé r oe os k .

ockan och ! o n e but , it leaves hungry at the

” c heart . And then gusty winds ame snell from the north , and where the dark crept

first , the day made his first showing , so that Ben Ime rose black against a grey sky .

’ ’ P iobazr eachd Paru i That s the Lost , said g

Dall when the bag sunk on his arm .

And the two men looked at him in a daze .

Sometimes in the spring of the year the winds from Lorn have it their own way with the H ighlands . They will come tear ing furious over the hundred hills , spurred the faster by the prongs of Cruachan and

n hu a c h D u c , and the large woods of home toss before them like corn before the hook .

Up come the poor roots and over o n their broken arms go the tall trees , and in the m orning the deer will trot through new lan e s cut in the forest .

A wind of that sort came on the full o f

’ T/z L o t P zé m e/z 2 8 e s .

“ on e b e It might , said , the beginning of fortune I am weary enou gh of this poor

c b u t pla e , with nothing about it wood and

water and tufty grass . If we went now , there might be gold and girls at the other

” end . They took crooks and bonnets and went

after the two pipers . And when they were

e a gon h lf a day , six women said to their ” c a n ? men , Where the lads be

“ We do not know that , said the men ,

” with hot faces , but we might be looking .

c e They kissed their hildren and w nt , with

a s cr om g in their hands , and the road they

a s a E rr in took w the ro d the King of rides ,

and that is t he road to the end of days .

e a a n d A weary s son fell on Half Town , the

very bairns dwined at the breast for a c hange m o f fortune . The wo en lost their strength ,

- and said , To day my back is weak , to

” r u t mo row I will p things to right , and they

lo oke d sla c k - mou thed a n d h ee dless - eyed a t ' T/ie L ost P zé r ocfz 2 . 9

u E the sun wheeling ro nd the trees . very week a m a n or two would go to seek some — thing a lost heifer or a wounded roe that — was never brought bac k and a new trade

a e e came to the pl c , the s lling of herds . Far

away in the low country , where the winds

c are warm and the poorest have money , bla k

a cattle were wanted , so the men of H lf Town mad e up long droves and to o k them round

e Glen Beag and the R st .

e Wh rever they went they stayed , or the

u t e clans on the roadside p th m to steel , for m Half Town saw them no ore . And a day c ame when all that was l e ft in t h a t fine pla c e were but wom en and children and a blind piper .

“ ” Am I the only man here ? asked P a r u ig

Dall when it came to the bit , and they told him he was . “ Then here ’s another for fortune ! ” said

u he , and he went down thro gh the woods with his pipes in his oxter .

R E D H A N D .

H E sm ell of wet larch was in the

a ir Gl en aora w a s a u to , and b rst

P a ru i the coaxing of Spring . g — Dall the piper son of the son of I a in M o r

’ fill ed e m e his broad ch st with two n s wind ,

e and flung the drones over his should r . They

dangled a little till the bag swelled out , and

the first blast ra ng in the ear of the morning .

c e Rough and noisy , the reeds ri d each other

’ m c e down till a master s hand held the in h ck ,

’ and the long soft singing of the pioba zr eac kd

ou a floated t among the t rtan ribbons . The grey peak of Drimfe rn he a rd the m us i c ; R ed H a n d 34 . the rock that wards the mouth of Carnus let it pass through the gap and over the hill and down to the isles below ; Dun Corr

D un c hu ac h u Kil mu n e bhile and , pro d , the

of S al ac har Paps y, and a hundred other braes around , leaned over to listen to the vaunting

“ the notes that filled valley. The Glen , the ! Glen is mine sang the blithe chanter ; and ,

’ M a c ru im en by Finne s sword , himself could not have fingered it better !

It was before P a ru ig Dall left for Half

Town ; before the wars that scorched the glens ; and Clan Campbell could cock its

of P ar i bonnet in the face all Albainn . u g

old P aru i was , and g was blind , as the name

’ of him tells , but he swung with a king s

on port up and down the short grass , his

to of foot firm every beat the tune , his kilt

’ tossing from side to side like a bard s song, his sporran leaping gaily on his brown knees . Two score of lilting steps to the

s - burnside , a low wheel on a brogue heel, and

R ed H a nd 3 6 .

’ a c r hy s thirsty swords , far north of Morven , long days of weary march through spoiled glens .

“ ’ ’ It s fine playing , I ll allow , said the blind

’ a - man s son , st nding below a saugh tree with the bag of his bannered pipes in the crook of his arm . He wore the dull tartan of the

D iar m aid s ha d , and he a sprig of gall in his

’ bonnet , for he was in Black Duncan s tail .

” P ar u i Son of g Dall , said the Chief seven

“ ’ a ye rs ago come Martinmas , if you re to play

’ e e b u t for like your fath r , ther s Dunvegan you ,

” the c M ac ru im en and s hooling of Patrick . So — T ea rl a c h went to Skye cold isle o f knives — and c aves and in the college o f Mac ru im en

- he learned the piob mhor . Morning and even

a ll ing , and day between , he fingered the

eadcm the - f or full set gathering and march ,

m a n s a u massacre and o ing , and the tately s l te . Where the lusty breeze comes in salt from

V a tern is h a c o s V r s Loch egan , and the purple

’ o m a u l o of Uist bre ks the s nset s g olden bars , R ed H a n d . 3 7 he stood on the braes over against B orear a ig m and charmed the gru bling t ide . And there came a d ay that he played The Lament of

” he - t Harp Tree , with the old years of sturdy

s of fight and strong men all in the train it ,

M ac ru im en m and Patrick said , N o ore , lad ; go hom e : Lochow never heard anoth er like

” you . As a cock with its comb uncut , came the stripling from Skye .

a for Father , he had said , you pl y not ill a

’ b u t s blind man , you miss the look on the men

’

the . faces , and that s half music Forbye , you

old u o n c are , and yo r fingers are slow the gra e

’ not e s . Here s your own flesh and bl o od can show yo u finge ring there was never the like

” of anywhere east the Isles .

The stepmother heard the brag . A phea

” sain ’ a she sn pped , with hate in her peat

“ ’ . a e smoked face Your f th r s a man , and you

n o are but a boy with heart for a long day .

’ a c A pl e in Black Duncan s tail , with a gillie

c u a n d c to arry yo r pipes knapsa k , is not , 8 R ed H a n 3 d.

’ of a mind ye , all that s to the making piper .

“ or Tearl ac h laughed in her face . Boy ” “ ! man , said he , look at me north , east ,

o n e to ? south , and west , where is the beat me

M ac ru im en has the name , but there were

M ac ru im en pipers before , and pipers will come ” after him . “ ’ i “ P a ru . It s maybe as you say, said g The

’ ou o ut b u stuff s in y , and what is in must ; t

cothr om na P einn e ol d give me , and as I am ,

’ ’ with Finne s chance , and that s fair play , I

c can maybe make you row less crouse . Are ” ye for t rying ?

“ I am at the training of a new chanter “ T ea rl ac h reed , said ; but let it be when ” you will .

o They fixed a day , and went out t play

so against each other for glory , and it befell that on this day P aru ig Dall was playing The

” “ ” Glen is Mine and B od aic h nam B r iog ais in a way to make stounding hearts. R ed H a n d . 39

’ Giorsal snapped her fingers in her stepson s face when her husband closed the crunluadh d of his pioba ir each .

“ ou ? Can y better it , bastard snarled

! Here goes for it , whatever said Tear lach , and over his back went the banner with

’

on . its boar s head sewn gold A pretty lad , by the cross ! clean - cut of limb and light of

of of foot , supple loin , with the toss the shoulder that never a decent piper lacked . The women who had been at the linn leaned on each other all in the soft larch - scented

of day, and looked at him out deep eyes ; the men on the heather arose and stood nigher .

A little tuning , and then

’ Is c om adh eam s c omadh earn co adh n a s e l l , g ith ,

’ ’ ” r - M arb har sa chog adh n a c roc ha s an t s ith m i.

or ! Giorsal Peace war cried , choking in

“ — or ! anger , to her man peace war the R ed H a n d 40 . black braggart ! it ’s an asp ye have for a ! son , goodman

’ The lad s fingers danced merry on the

chanter , and the shiver of something to come fell on all the folk around . The old hills sported with the prancing tune ; Dun Corr bhile tossed it to Drimfern , and Drimfern sent it leaping across the flats of Kil mu n e to the

“ of L ec k n amb an . green corries Love , love ,

” the old tune ; come and get flesh ! rasped a crow to his mate far off on misty Ben

B hreac , and the heavy black wings flapped east . The friendly wind forgot to dally with the pine - tuft and the twanging bog

myrtle , the plash of Aora in its brown linn

“ l o f was the tink e wine in a goblet . Peace

or or war , peace war ; come which will , we

” - care not , sang the pipe reeds , and there

- was the muster and the march , hot foot

- rush over the rotting rain wet moor, the

of j ingle iron , the dunt of pike and targe ,

a u the choked roar of h te and h nger , batter a n 1 R ed H d . 4

old ol d and slash and fall , and behind , the , feud with Appin !

wa Leaning for rd , lost in a dream , stood the swank lads of Aora . They felt at their

e o n e hips , wher were only empty belts , and

“ c said to his hild , White love , get me yon

the on long knife with nicks it , and the

” - f e o d . basket hand , for I am sick sheph r ing The bairn took a look at his face and went

home crying .

’ And the music still poured on . Twas

’ ’ I got a Kiss 0 the King s Hand and

a n d The Pretty Dirk , every air better

e than another . The fairy pipe of the We Folk ’s Knowe never made a sweeter fever of the sound , yet it hurt ears of the women , who had reason to know the payment o f

’ pipers springs .

“ ” o T earl a c h o ! Stop , st p , O g they cried ;

enou gh of war : have ye not a reel in you r

” bu dget ?

’ e e o e Th re was never a re l in B r raig , 2 R ed H a n 4 d .

“ ’ D un iv e s said the lad , and he into g Warn

” C iotac h ing , the tune Coll heard his piper play in the west o n a day when a black bitch

D un s taffn a e a from g lay p nting for him , and his barge put nose about in time to save his skin .

“ ’ in There s the very word itself it , said

P aru i Gior sal g , forgetting the taunting of and

’ all but a father s pride .

” “ Twas in the middle of the Warning

Black Duncan , his toe on the stirrup , came

I n n eraora - up from Castle , with a gillie wet

o n foot behind , his way to Lochow .

“ ’ It s down yonder you should be , Sir Piper,

” and not blasting here for drink , said he , switching his trews with his whip and scowl ing under black brows at the people . My wife is sick of the clarsach and wants the

” pipes .

“ ’ ’ w r I m no woman s piper , Locho ; you wife can listen to the hum of her spinning w ’ ” heel if she s weary of her harp , said the

d H a n 44 R e d .

“ ’ B u t B he l for his language . the boy can

” play ! he said at the last .

“ ’ ” ama dazn dhoill ! Oh , cried the woman ;

if it was I , a claw was off the cub before

” the mouth of day .

“ Witless woman , men have played the

: pipes before now , lacking a finger look at ” Alasdair C orr ag !

“ ’ Allowing ; but a hand s as easy to c u t as a finger for a man who has gralloched deer

' ’ - with a keen sg z an du bh. Will ye do t or

a n n o Parig would he rke more , and took to

his pillow .

the . Rain came with gloaming Aora , the

s plendid river , roared up the dark glen from

the Salmon Leap ; the hills gathered thick and heavy round about the scattered town

of ships , the green new tips fir and the copper

of leaves the young oaks moaned in the wind .

s e a Then salt airs came tearing up from the , ed n R H a d . 4 5

on c a n d the grinding branch bran h , whole land smoked with the drumming of rain that slanted on it hot and fast .

Gior sal arose , her clothes still on her , put a on plaid her black head , and the thick door banged back o n the bed as she dived into the storm . Her heavy feet sogged through the boggy grass , the heather clutched at her

- draggled coat tails to make her stay , but

o n e she filled her heart with thought , and

wa s ! that hate , and behold she was on the slope o f the Bl a ck Bull before her blind hus band guessed her meaning . Castle I n n eraora

of lay at the foot the woody dun , dozing to the music of the salt loc h that made tumult and spume north and south in the hollow of the mountains . N ow and then the moon took a look at things , now and then a night hag in the dripping wood hooted as the rain whipped her breast feathers ; a ro e leap e d out of the gloom and into it with a feared hoof - plunge above C a rl on a n ; a thunderbolt e 46 R d H a n d . struck in the dark a gainst the brow of Ben

Ime and rocked the world . In the cold hour before the mouth of day the woman was in the piper ’s room at the

of I n n eraor a gate , where never a door was barred against the night while Strong Colin the warder cou ld see from the Fort of Dun c huac h to Cladi c h . T earl ac h the piper lay on

of a - his back , with the glow a h lf dead peat

“ ” . P a ru i Parui ! on his face and hands g , g

said the woman to herself, as she softly tramped out the peat - fi re and turned to the

’

1 0 ! . bed . And it was over Her husband s little black knife made a fast sweep on the

’ sleeper s wrist , and her hand was drenched

’ with the hot blood of her husband s son .

T ea rl a ch leaped up with a roar in the dark and felt for his foe ; but the house was empty , for Giors al was running like a b in d across the soaked stretch of C a irn b a n The lightning struck at Gl en aora in jagged fury and c on fu sion ; the thunder drummed hollow on Creag e n R d H a d . 47

Dubh : in a turn of the pass at the Three

Bridges the woman met her husband .

“ ” “ ’ of ! ? Daughter hell said he, is t done and was ’t death ? ”

” Darling , said she , with a fond laugh ,

’ twas only a brat s hand . You can give us

‘ ’ The ! Glen is Mine in the morning .

T H E S E C R E T O F T H E

H E A T H E R - A L E

‘ 2 Tn S ecr et o Me H ea z ner - A l e 5 e f .

of back at its old trade fighting , with not

on a sheiling from end to end , except

of the slopes Shira Glen , where a clan kept free of battle and drank the finest of heather - ale that the world envied the secret of. “ ’ ! Lift we and go , for the Cattle s before said Alasdair Piob aire o n the chanter of a — Dunvegan great - pipe a neat tune that roared gallant a n d far from Carnus to Bara f caldine ; so there they were , the pick o swank fellows on the road ! At the head of them was N iall Mor a ’ Chamais —the same gentleman namely in story for many an art and the slaughter of

’ the strongest man in the world , as you ll

of find in the writings my Lord Archie . “ ! ! ” God look at us said he , when his lads c ame over the hill in the grey mouth of “ ? day . Are not we the splendid men Fleas will there be this day in the hose of the

Gl en shira folk And he sent his targe in /ze S cr et o [b e H e th er - A l e T e f a . 5 3

a the air in bravado , catching it by the prong in its navel , smart and clean , when it whirled back .

Hawks yelped as they passed ; far up o n

Tullich there was barking of eagles ; the brogues met the road as light as the stag

- slot ; laughing , singing , roaring ; sword heads and pikes dunting on wooden targets— and only once they looked back at their wom en

- high on the brae face .

The nuts were thick on the roadside , hang ing heavy from swinging branches , and some of u off the men p lled them as they passed ,

for stayed more , straggled , and sang bits o f rough songs they ken over many of on

L oc ho sid e to w this day . So N iall Mor glu nched at his corps from under his bonnet and showed his teeth .

“ e m Gath r in , gather in , said he ; ye arch

- like a drove of low country cattle . Alasdair ,

‘ ’ put Baile I n n era ora o n her !

he Alasdair changed his tune , and t good / ! e a tne - A Ze 5 4 Tne S ew e of M H e r . march of Clan D iarm aid went swinging down the glen .

The time passed ; the sun stood high and hot ; clucking from the fi r - plantings came woodcock and c a il z ie ; the two rivers were

D ia rm a id s crossed , and the slockened their

Al uin n thirst at the water of Altan , whose birth is somewhere in the bogs beside tall B i h hu d e Ben . Where the clans met was at the Foal ’s

M a K . c ell ars Gap , past Maam A score of the

ou t ran in a line from the bushes , and stotted back from the solid weight of Diarma id moving in a lump and close - shouldered in the style

N iall M or got from the Italian soldier . Some fell , hacked on the head by the heavy slash o f the dry sword ; some gripped too late at the pikes that kittled them cruelly ; and one — — Iver - of - the - Oars tripped on a root of

on heather , and fell with his breast the

’ point of a D iarm a id s dirk .

T o the hills went a fast summons , and eem ! o Me H ea tn r - A /e Tae S f e . 5 5 soon at the mouth of the gap came twoscore

of M ac Kell ars . the They took a new plan , and close together faced the green tartan ,

c keeping it ba k at the point of steel , though

of Gl en aora u the pick wore it , and the brog es

- s lipped o n the brae face. It was fast cut and drive , quick flash of the dirk , with the

palm up and the hand low to find the groin , and a long reach with the short black knife .

The choked breath hissed at teeth and nose , the salt smell of new blood brou ght a shiver

- to birch leaf and gall . But ever the green

o f i tartan had the best t .

“ B as bas D hiar maid ! , , cried Calum Dubh , c oming up on the back of his breaking two

E l eri m or score with fresh lads from g , bed

to naked the hide , and a new fury fell on the two clans tearing at it in the narr ow hollow in between the rocky hills . S o close

for t hey were, there was small room the

“ of - - a whirl the basket hilt , and Mind Tom

” Phu b aill and the shortened steel ! cried Tne ecr et o t/z e H ea tner - A l e 5 6 S f .

’ a N i ll Mor , smashing a pretty man s face with a blow from the iron guard of his

Ferrara sword The halberts , snapped at the haft to make whittles , hammered on the

- on f target hides like stones a co fin , or rang on the bosses ; the tartan ripped when the stuck on e rolled on his side before the steel c ould be twisted out ; below the foot the grass felt warm and greasy , and the reason was not ill to seek .

Once it looked like the last of Calum Dubh .

c He was fa ing N iall Mor , sword and targe ,

and N iall Mor changed the sword to the

s ian - da fyh other hand , pulled the g from his

garter , and with snapping teeth pushed like

’ M ac K ell ar s a lightning fork below target .

An El erigmor man ran in between ; the little black knife sunk into his belly with a

moist plunge , and the blood spouted on the

- deer horn haft .

“ M a ll achd ar t ! I meant yon for a better

” “ ’ a man , cried N i ll M or ; but it s well as it is , t/z H ea - Tae S ecr et of e tner A l e. 5 7

’ o for the secret s to the fore , and he sto d u p dour and tall against a new front of Mac

’ a Kell r s men .

Then the sky changed , and a thin smirr of warm rains fell on the glen like smoke some black - cattle bellowed at the ford in a wonder

e at where th ir herds could be , and the herds — — stuck , slashed , and cudgelled lay stiffening on the torn grass between the gap and Mac

’ u of Kell a r s ho se . From end to end the glen there was n o man left but was at the fi ght

b ook ing . The was tossed among the corn ;

- o the man hot fo t behind the roe , turned when he had his knife at its throat , to go to war ; a lover left his lass among the heather ; and

all , with tightened belts , were at the old game

Diarm a id with Clan , while their women , far up on the sappy levels between the hill - tops and

- beside the moor lochs , span at the wheel or carded wool , singing songs with light heart s and thinking no danger .

’ Back went M a c Kell a r s m en before N i a ll 8 Tice S ecr et o tne H eatner - A /e 5 f .

Mor and his sturdy lads from Carnus , the — breeder o f soldiers back through the gap and down on the brae to the walls of Calum

Dubh .

’ “ I llean , cried Calum ; lads , lads !

. ! they have us , sure enough Oh pigs and ” thieves ! squint mouths and sons of liars l

The c ry gathered up the strengt h of all that

of Uil ea m was left his clan , Art and , the

D r iml ea t Maam lads , the brothers from and wo

o from over Stron hill , and they stood up t — gether against the Carnus men a gallant madness ! They died fast and hard , and soon but Calum and his two sons were left

of D ia rm aid s fencing , till a rush sent them through the door of the house and tossed among the peats .

“ own Give in and your lives are your ,

M or said N iall , wiping his sword on his shirt

of sleeve , and with all that were left his

m aid Diar s behind his back .

M ac Kell ars To their feet stood the three .

60 Tne S ecr et o M e H ea tner - A l e f .

With the sword or the dagger in the ” D ia rm aid or two hand , and a before me , cried Calum .

“ l of We l , there might be worse ways — travelling yont indeed there c o u ld ill be better ; but if the secret of the ale is not to

’ be ours for the asking , ye ll die a less well bred death .

“ u N ame it , man , name it , said Cal m .

Might it be tow at the throat and a fi r b ran c h .

“ Troth , said N iall Mor , and that were

’ S c a u rn oc h s t oo gentle a travelling . The on

r of ou way , and the crows at the foot it

” might relish a Glen Shira carcass .

Uil eam whitened at the notion of so ugly

“ n al a end , but C um only said , Die we must

” of any way, and Art whistled a bit a pipe

r on tune , g inding his heel the moss .

N iall M or made to strike the father on the

face , but stayed his hand and ordered the

in - b to three y , with a few of his corps guard n c t e H t r - A e 6 1 T e S e r et of a ea ne l .

Shira wen t them . Up and down Glen the

i maid s - D ar , seeking the brewing cave , giving hut and home to the flame , and making black hearths and l ow lintels for the women away in the sheilings . They buried their dead

Kilb l a a n at , and , with no secret the better , set out for S c a urn oc h with Calum and his sons .

' M ac Kell ars s rezdh The were before , like a p o f stolen cattle , and the lot of the driven herd was theirs . They were laughed at and spat o n - cr oma s m , and dirk hilts and g ham ered o n

u B l a ra n b u ie their shoulders , and thro gh wood they went to the bosky elbow of Dun Corr

bhile and round to the Dun beyond .

u a Cal m , for all his we riness , stepped like a

’ man with a lifetime s plans before his m ind ; Art looked about him in the fashion of one with an eye to woodcraft ; U il eam slouched with a heavy foot , white at the jaw and wild of eye .

- a The wood Opened , the hunting ro d bent 62 Tne S ecr et o tne H ea tner - A l e f .

about the hill - face to give a level that the eye might catch the country spread below . Loch

Finne stretched far , from Ardno to French

n Foreland , a glassy field , specked with o e sail

n Off C reagg a s . When the company came to a stand , Calum Dubh tossed his head to send the hair from his eyes , and looked at what lay

S c aur n oc h below . The broke at his feet , the grey rock - face falling to a depth so deep that weary mists still hung upon the sides , jagged

fi r - here and there by the top of a tree . The

the sun , behind Dun , gave the last Of her

’ glory to the Cowal Hills ; Hell s Glen filled V with wheeling mists ; Ben Ime , Ben ane , and Ben Arthur crept together and held princely c onverse on the other side Of the sea . All in a daze of weariness and thinking i the D ia rma d s stood , and looked and listened , and the curlews were crying bitter on the shore .

“ ’ or for Oh , haste ye , lads , it s not Carnus

” “ - o e l . e us t night , cri d N ia l Mor We hav /c r - l e 6 T/ce S ecr et of the f l ea t e A . 3

’ business before us , and long s the march to ! ” follow . The secret , black fellow

Calum Dubh laughed , and spat in a bravado over the edge of the rock .

“ n ot Come , fool ; if we have the word

’ ' Ofl Sithea n Sl uaidhe from you before the sun s ,

” your sleep this night is yonder , and he pointed at the pit below . “ Calum laughed the more . If it was hell

” “ n ot itself, said he , I would save my soul ” from it .

“ ’ ! Sithean Sl u aidhe s Look , man , look the

on e getting black , and any Of ye can save the three yet . I swear it on the cross Of my knife .

one - Behind the brothers , , John Without

on Asking, stood , with a gash his face , eager to to give them the crows below .

’ A shiver came to Uil ea m s lips ; he looked

at his father with a questioning face , and

then stepped back a bit from the edge ,

to of making speak to the tall man Chamis . 6 T/ze S ecr et o tne H ea t/zer - A l e 4 f .

u Cal m saw the meaning, and spoke fast and thick . “ he “ ’ Stop , stop , said ; it s a trifle Of a

a ll to secret , after , and save life ye can have ” it . Art took but a little look at his father ’s

a o n f ce , then turned round Shira Glen and looked on the hills where the hunting had

many a time been sweet . Maam no more ,

’ said he to himself ; but here s death in the hero ’s style ! ”

“ I thought you would tell it , laughed

“ on e of N iall Mor . There was never your ” clan but had a tight grip of his little life .

“ ” “ ’ Ay l said Calum Dubh ; but it s my

on e secret . I had it from who made me

swear on the holy steel to keep it ; but take

’ m r me to Ca us , and I ll make you the heathe

ale .

’ S O be t , and

’ B ut there s this in it , I can look no clans

a so men n or kin in the face fter telling it , Tfie S ecr et t/ze H ea tner - A l of e.

Art and Uil eam must be out Of the ” first .

M ac Kell ar ? Death ,

” That same .

il ea m U shook like a leaf, and Art laughed ,

to for with his face still Shira , he had guessed

’ his father s mind .

“ ” “ ’ ! M or Faith said N iall , and that s an

u to easy thing eno gh , and he nodded John

- Without Asking .

The man made stay nor tarry . H e put

’ a hand on each son s back and pushed them

Over the edge to their death below . One

D iarm a id s o n e cry came up to the listening , — f cry and n o more the last gasp o a craven .

’ ’ N o l w we l take you to Carnus , and you ll

a O f m ke us the ale , the fine ale , the cream

” - rich heather ale , said N iall Mor , putting a

’ knife to the thongs that tied M a c Kell ar s arms

o t his side . With a laugh and a fast leap Calum Dubh

n stood back o the edge of the rock again . e S ecr et o Me H ea t/z er - A l e 66 Tn f .

’ - ! Crook mouths , fools , pigs sons did ye

” “ think it ? he cried . Come with me and

’ ’ al e a my sons and ye ll get , y , and death s

of S c aur n oc h. black wine , at the foot H e

- - caught fast and firm at John Without Asking ,

w - and thre himself over the rock face . They

to fell as the scart dives , straight the dim

- D iarmaid s sea Of mist and pine tip , and the

threw themselves on their breasts to look

of over . There was nothing to see life but

the crows swinging on black feathers ; there

was nothing to hear but the crows scolding .

N iall M or put the bonnet on his head and

said his first and last friendly thing Of a foe .

” Yon of , said he , had the heart a man !

B O BO O N ’S C H L D R E N I .

RO M Knapdale to Lorn three wandering clans share the country

of between them , and the three the oldest and the greatest are the swart

of B ob oon . Macdonalds , children the Old

’ You on will come on them Wade s roads , b it jaunty fellows , a dour in the look, and

or - l braggart ; girls with sloe eyes , ta l and

n ot on supple , with a flat slouching foot the

soil , but high in the instep , bounding and

- stag sure . At their head will be a long lean — Old man on crutches John Fine Macdonald ’ 0 B oeoon s Cni/dr en 7 .

B ob oon of Old , the father and head the noblest Of wandering tribes .

“ ” “ B ob oon to ou Sir, will say y , I am the fellow you read Of in books as the teller Of

F in galian tales ; wilt hear one of them for a

or poor Saxon shilling, wilt buy my lures for the fish ? Or perhaps a display of scholarly

’ — piping by my daughter s son the gallant — scamp who has carried arms for his king ?

on e If must have the truth , the piping is

fi sh- bad piping, but the lures and the tales Y are the best in the world . ou will find some

Of the tales in the writings of Iain 0 g of Isla such as “ The Brown Bear Of the Green

Glen but the best are to hear as B ob oon minds them when he sits with you on the roadside or on the heather beside the evening ff fire , when the brown flu y eagles bark at the

on B raevall ac h. for mist Listen well to them , this person has the gift . H e had it from his

ho his father, w had it from father , who had it

who a d from a mother, , in deep trouble n ’ ' B oé on s C/zzl d r en I o . 7

u disease , lay awake thro gh long nights gather — ing thoughts as healthy folks gather nuts a sweet thing enough from a sour husk . And if time were your property (as it should

ou be the portion of every wiselike man) , y

B ob oon might hear many tales from Old , but

n never the tale of his ow three chances . It happened once upon a time that the captain in the town took a notion to make

B ob oon into a tame house - man instead of a

Of creature the woods and highways . He took him first by himself and clapped him into a kilt Of his own tartan eight yards round the buttocks , full pleated , with hose Of fine worsted , and a coat with silver buttons . He put a pickle money in his sporran , and gave him a place a little way down his table . The feeding

’ was high and the work was to a wanderer s fancy ; for it was but whistling to a dog now

a and then , chanting stave , or telling a story , or roaming through the garden behind the house . ’ ' 2 o en s a ld r n 7 B w e .

” ho l B ob oon Ho , said , am not I the

” st urdy fellow come to his own ? and about

’ c the pla e he would go with a piper s swagger, switching the grass and shrubs with a withie as he went , in the way gentlemen use riding sticks .

But when I n nera ora town lay in the dark

’ Of the winter night , and the captain s house

B ob oon hold slept , would hear his clan calling on him outside the wall .

B ob oon l B ob oon l ! Oh , Old hero come and collogue with your children .

o e H e would g to the wall , which was low r

out on the inside than the (and is , indeed , the

f of wall o Old Quinten , where a corps Camp

e I n v erl oc h b lls , slaughtered by y dogs , lie under a Latin stone) , and he would look down at his friends running about like pole - cats in the

a darkness , in their r gged kilts and trews , their stringy hair tossing in the wind . The women themselves would be there, with the bairns

on whining their backs . ’ ' B e n l d r en o oo s a . 7 3

“ ” A ! a ! ou folk l y y this is y , my hearty he

“ wo u ld say ; glad am I to see you and smell

- fi r H i on the wood e r eek Off you . ow s it the road ?

“ From here we have n ot moved since you left us , John Fine . We are camped in the

ou Blue Quarry , and y never came near your

” children and friends .

“ ’ ’ God ! and here s the on e that s sorry for

e n ot that same . But over the walls th y will

‘ ’ l et . ou me If gentleman y would be , says

‘ ou ou of the captain , y must keep t woods

’ and Off the highway .

ou B ob oon ? And y like it , ! Like it , heroes But for the honour and

of fi r- ease it , give me a root fire in Glen Croe an d a dinner of fuarag . It is not the day

- so much as the night . Lying in by there on a - of posted bed , I choke for the want

ar e air, though the windows and doors open wide .

B ob oon e Come away with us , ; we hav ’ ' B obo n s l r en 74 o a d .

little luck with the fish , and few are our stories

u since yo took to the town .

“ ’ NO n . , o, dears Conan s curse , and I tell ! you no In this place there is comfort , and

! o n u every day its w bellyf l .

But the freedom outbye , John , Old hero !

Last night we had the bravest of fires ; the

’ Sparks flew like birds among the Duke s

s birches , the ground was nug and dry , and ” Begone ! I tell ye n o !

Listen ! TO - day we were among the

b B ean n a n white hares eyond the , thwacking

i our b the b g fat fellows with clu s . Such sport was n ot in all Albainn ! White hares

! a White hares , Old John And Alasd ir

Beag has some new tunes since you left u s a piobair eachd he picked up from a Mull man .

Would it be F a ilte an Roic h

Better than that by far ; a masterly tune !

u Come o t and hear him .

’ ' 6 B oé oon Cni 7 s td r en .

ing knees to the Latin stone . The night

for was deep black , and all he could tell by eyesight , he might have been in the middle of breezy Moor Rannoch , but the town gables crowded thick and solid round his heart .

He missed the free flowing winds ; there was a smell of peat and coal from dead house

fire s f , and he spat the dust o lime from his throat .

Over the wall the c lan sc raped and skurried as weasels d o . They dared make no noise for fear the town should waken , but in hoarse voi c es they called all together

“ B ob oon B ob oon ! to , , Oh come home the

B ob oon l wood ,

“ ” Am n ot I the poor c aged one ? said

B ob o on to himself, and he ran in that he might hear no more . It was the same the next night and the

on next , and it looked like going without E end . ver the wanderers coming at night to the wall and craving their head to come ’ e on nildr en B o o s C . 7 7

out . And one night they threw over a winged

l c - b a k cock , that fell with beating feathers at

’ B ob oon s feet as he stood in the dark listening to the swart Macdonalds whining outbye . H e picked up the bird and ran kind fingers through its feathers . The heat coursed in its breast and burned to a fever in its wounded

’ on B ob oon s oxter . Its little heart beat thumb like a drumstick .

“ ” “ Poor bird ! said b e ; well I ken where

a ye c me from , and the merry times ye had .

of B huid he Ye hatched in the braes Ben , and clu c ked on the reedy places round about the side Of that tall hill . Before your keen

u c eyes in the morning was the D bh Lo h , and the — Shira winding like a silver belt . Sure

am I ye took wing for it with the day, and over Stu c S c ar d a n to Aora Glen to make merry among your mates in the heather and the

' ' - - e . ! choillzch dhuibh ck oillz ch dhuibh f rn Oh , ,

’ hard s our fate with broken wings and the heart still strong ’ n n 7 8 B oeoo s Cnil d r e .

’ H e thrawed the bird s neck , and then went

over the wall to join his clan .

His second chance ended n o better . H e was back in a new kilt and j acket a twelve month later , and this time the captain tried

’ — the trick of a dog s freedom out on the road as he liked by day , but kennel at night .

’ One day B ob oon was on his master s errand round Stron . It was the spring Of the year .

- The shore , at the half ebb , was clean and sweet , and the tide lapped at the edge as soft as a cat at milk .

Going round Stron on the hard yellow

’ ot road , he g to think Of the sea s good

—o f fortune , the many bays it wandered into by night or day ; of its friendship with far

u o t forelands , and its brisk quarrels with the black ro c ks . Here was no dyke at any time, but all freedom , the restlessness and the roam

or as an d ing, sleep song the mood had it , the ploys with galleys and gabberts ; the cheery hall OO O f the winds and the waving ’ B ohoon s C ild r en h . 7 9

Of branches on foreign isles to welcom e

on e . The road Opened before him in short — swatches the sort Of road a wanderer likes , with n ot too much Of it to be seen at one

az - look . In the h el wood by the way the bark Of the young trees glistened like brass ; thin new switches shot out straight as shelis ters . John Fine , with the sun heating his

D on n a c ha back , started at the singing of

’ “ Ban s Coire C heathaic h

’ - O t was gla dsome to g o a l . un ti n g

O u t in the d ew of the sun n y m orn

F or the r ea r ed s a was n e e an n g t t g v r w ti g, h N or the a wn n or t e d oe n e e a o n . f , with v r h r

M eau eous c o m m s o y b t rri , y i ty c rri I Wha t light feet trod th ee in !oy an d pride

Wha s on an a e e ec ou s easu t tr g h d g th r d thy pr i tr res,

Wh a t great h eart s l ea p ed on thy c raggy s ide

D un d arav e l a a Rounding , the road y str ight before him till it thinned in the distan c e to ’ B oheon s C il d r en 80 h .

- a needle point pricking the trees , and at the f end o it was a c loud Of dust .

What have I here ? said B ob oon to

out himself, stretching with long steps , the kilt flapping against the back Of his knees .

1 0 ! The cloud came close , and here was

own on his clan the march , draggled and stoury , rambling, scattered like crows , along the road .

“ B ob oon l B ob oon l they cried , and they hung about him , fingering his fine clothes .

He looked at their brown flesh , he saw the of yellow soil in the crannies their brogues , the men loose and blackguardly , the women

- - b red cheeked , ripe , and big reasted , with bold eyes , and all had enchantment for him ! A

n ot stir set up in his heart that he . could put down .

ou ? Where were y yesterday he asked .

of On the side the Rest in Glen Croe,

O f n o with dry beds white hay and hurry .

” Where are you for ? ’ B ohoon s C il d r en 8 1 h .

’ ou a Have y forgotten the wanderer s w ys , ” B ob oon ? Where does this road go to ?

“ l ! to Wel ye ken , my heroes It goes the

’ ‘ f a . end o man s will If the man says , I ’ ’ if b ide here , it s the end Of the road ; but

to he has the notion , it will take him the ! end Of days . That , by my soul is the charm

Of all roads that are n ot in towns ; and n ow

of that I think it , let the captain whistle on

’ for B ob oon of his errand , I m and sick the ” c ausey stones .

S O night found B ob oon and his clan far

of Au c hn ab rea - in at the back c , town muir and bonny place , where some we ken would sooner

’ be than wandering o er the world .

And the days passed , and at Martinmas

the captain was at Kilmichael Market , and he came on B ob oon with his people on the

of - B edge the market place . ob oon in those

a - days was as straight as young saugh wand ,

sharp and thin , all thong at the j oints , and a u s s pp le as a wild cat . He was giving a ’ 8 2 B ohoon s C ild r en h .

s ian - du bh display with the g , stabbing it on the ground at the back Of his left heel and twist ing his right arm round the leg to get the blade o ut of the ground without bending the

knee . It was a trick to take the eye , but

n or neither bardic soldierly, yet there was a throng of drovers about him . Along with him was his daughter Betty , who took after

’ him for looks , but had her dead mother s dainty tongue , and from her mother a little book - schooling John Fine had never the need O fi

The eye o f the captain fell on the two Of them as they stood there , with their forty

- clan folk going about the market , and he was gripped by a new notion to give B ob oo n the third and the last chance .

“ ” “ B ob oon l o h he said , come back t t e

’ ou town this once , and I ll put y and your daughter up together in a house o f your

own .

B efore a week was o ut the thing was as

’ 8 B obo n s il dr 4 o Ch en .

It was that very night B ob oon put an end to his last chance .

The strong sun Of the day left the night hot

z on and clammy , and a ha e hung the country

on e such as sees in these parts in keenest frost .

’ — M ac vic ar s Land was full of smells Of sweat ing flesh and dirty water , Of fish and the rot — ting airs of sunless holes and the dainty nose

n Of Macdonald took a disgu st . He flung Ope door and window , and leaned out at the win d ow with his neck bared and his mouth

o stretched wide gasping t the air . The bairns

- in the back land looked up and laughed .

B ob oon B ob oon B ob oon Look at , , , the f ” father o Lady Betty ! they cried , and J ohn Fine shook his fist and cursed their fami lies .

But there was n o ease from the trouble in

so ot this fashion , he g up and went behind

the town , and threw himself under the large

trees with an ear t o the gr ound . Beside him

the cattle crunched the sappy grass in s o ’ l B oboon s Chi d r en . 8 5 sweet and hearty mouthfuls that he could well wish he had the taste Of nature himself,

b of and they breathed great reaths content .

His keen ears could catch the hopping of beasts on the grass and the scrat c hing of claws

c in the wood , he ould hear the patter Of little

o n feet , and the birds above him scraping the bark when they turned in their sleep . A

so townman would think the world slept , great was the booming Of quietness ; but

B ob oon of heard the song the night , the bustle of the half world that thrives in shade and starshine .

Leaning now on an elbow, he let his eyes r ove among the beeches , into the bossy tops , solemn and sedate , and the deep recesses that might be full Of the little folk of fairy - land at their cantrips . And then farther back and

D un c hu ac h above all was the stately, lifting

- to its face , wood bearded , the stars !

“ If a wind was here it was all I wanted ,

B ob oon and said , when he said it the wind ’ 8 6 B obo n s C ild r n o h e .

— came a salty air from the sea . The whole c ountry - side cooled and gave out fresh scents

Of grass and earth . ” 0 G od ! 0 ! God cried the wanderer ,

out - b here we are y, the beasts and the birds

and the best Of B ob oon together ! Here is

he f r t place o ease and the full heart .

to He up and ran into the town , and up the

’ captain s gate and in . ” “ ’ —I Master, he cried , it s the Old story ,

’ must be taking the road for it ; here s n o rest for John Fine Macdonald l

’ But you ll leave the girl , said the captain ,

’ “ who saw the Old fever in the man s eyes ; I

have taken a notion Of her , and ” S O b e it ! let her b ide .

’ ’ I ll marry her before the morn s out .

B ob oon his Marry ! cried , putting back i d hair from h s face with a nervous han .

’ ” Y ou would marry a wanderer s child ?

“ ’ n o has Well , they ll talk , doubt ; but she

’ h m s d gifts to make t e forget , and she goo ’ n 8 Baboon s Child r e . 7

B ob oon on e Sir, said , I have but thing

’ ou r own - to say , and that s Gaelic Old word ,

‘ ’ ’ There are few lapdogs in a fox s litter .

’ The captain s face got as red as his vest , and he had a ready hand up for an answer

o B b oon t o , but he had mind the man was

’ the girl s father .

’ ” I ll risk it , he said , and you can go your

” wandering ways , for Betty is willing .

“ ” N o n o B ob o on doubt , doubt , said , an d

he went . In the hollow of the night he was

hooting back like a boy at the hool ets on the

of C oill evra id slopes , and at the mouth of day ,

in a silver wet light , he was standing o n the

on edge Of the hills that look two lochs , his

head high like a scenting deer 5 . He turned

him round about to al l airts with his eyes from

to Cruachan Cowal , and as far between Knap

dale and Lorn as a wanderer has vision , and

as yonder , down at Kames , w the camp O f his clan ’ 8 8 B boon il dr en o s Ch . in the morning and went to be captain ’s wife , with a seat in the kirk and callers from the castle itself.

“ ” Wait , wait , said Old Craignure , when

“ ’ the tale reached him , you ll see the fox come out o n her ere long .

But the fox was n ot there ; it was skipping

d o a day , as the fox will sometimes when the day before has been good hunting . All went well with the woman till the worst that might have been the best happened , and she died with her first child It was the year Of the stunted oats , that brought poverty to I n n eraora and black bread to

’ the captain s board ; but black bread and broc han would have been the blithest of meat for him if Betty was left to share it .

to He took the bottle, and left the boy to women who had no skill Of wild youth .

fi r - And the child grew like a tree , straight

hot u and tall , full of blood , swung abo t by

’ c F o r whim and the moment s fan y . him ’ B ohoon s C ild r en 8 h . 9

u n it was ever the horse and g , a snatched

' fl or dinner and hearty , and O to the wood

ot to hill . He g know the inner ways Of the beasts that hide in the coarse gr asses and the whin ; at a whistle he could coax

flapping birds to come to heel . A loose vest and a naked neck for ever were mar ring his gentility , and his closest friends were count rymen with hard hands and the loud ready laugh .

’ One day it came to the captain s mind that something must be made of this young blade , and he sent for him .

” Boy , said he , are you at your books ?

N O — , but but I ken a short way with the badgers , the lad made answer .

Did you ha ve a lesson this morning ?

” Never a lesson , said the lad ; I was too busy living . ? Living , said ye

Living . I was at the swimming at the

C rea s b ea kin o g , and g in the sun n the braes ' 0 B oboon s C ild r en 9 h . above the Garron beside the march wall where the hedgehogs creep , and I am new

” from the shinty , and he shook the shinty stick in his hand .

The captain took to pondering , his chin o n on his hand and his elbows the table, where a bottle and glass lay beside him . “ m After a bit he said , Look ye , y son ,

” what are ye meaning to be ?

“ ’ - I m for the sword work , the lad said , in a flash , his face twitching . “ I would sooner see you in hell first ! cried the captain , thumping the board till the glass rang . He had seen foreign wars hi m self and had a hack on the groin .

That was the first Of the feud between them . They fought it dour and they fought it

of hard , the father for the crafts peace and

for o n the lad his w way, and at last one day the captain said

' T O the door, brat , and your lair with the

B ob oo n s ! you belong to Faith , and your

’ B heon s C ild r n 9 2 o h e . by the woods to the hills ? ” the lad asked

caman himself. H e had the still in his hand ,

“ B as and he tossed it in the air . for the f ” cas or . highway, the low , said he The

bas our to for shinty fell , and hero took it the highway to the north . H e swithered at the Arches , and looked back on the front of the town and the quay with the Oil - lights

o n . it He was half in the humour to bide , but he put the notion behind him and

’ stretched to the brae , whistling a piper s

of march . At the head the brae the town

s o houses were lost to him , and this soon

n ot he could put up with , so he went down on a way to the right a little and stood on the grass Of the Winterton field .

Fast and dark the night was falling, a heavy smirr Of rain was drooking the grass, and the trees on every hand shook the water in blobs from the branches . Through them the lights Of the finest town in the

- world shone damp and woe b egone. ’ oh on s il dr en B o Ch . 9 3

’ There are good folk in t , and bad folk

’ ” “ to in t , said the lad himself ; but somehow

’ ” twas never the place for me ! He turned and went into the road through W the wood , savage at heart , ithout a thought

Of where his sleep would be . When he came

o Ken n ac hre a n Of t g , there was the scad a

fire above the trees beside the roaring river , and he went down and looked over a march f dyke at a band o wanderers under the trees .

Young and old , men and women , they lay steaming on soft beds Of springy spruce branches with their toes to the crackling

e logs , snoring as snore sound sle pers , sheltered from the rain by the thick branches , the side of the hill , and here and there a canvas cover

on e u — ing . There was but Of them p a long Old man with lank j aws and black eyes

John Fine Macdonald . He was stirring up the logs with the shod of a crutch and

humming a Perth song , and before the

O f c hottest the fire a plu ked bird was roasting . ’ B ohoon s C ildr en 94 h .

The smell of the meat and the wood - fi re rose to the dykeside where the lad stood shivering in his wet clothes , and the comfort of the camp was something he could n ot pass by .

He took a j ump over the dyke and went out in the light Of the fire , wondering what

B ob oon would be his welcome . Old looked up with his hand over his eyes , then rose on his crutches and put a hand on the

’ young fellow s shoulder .

’ I ra You re from n n e ora town ? said he .

” “ ’ it s I n n eraora I am , said the lad ; but

for n o more me .

“ ” Ho ! ho ! laughed the Old wanderer .

e Sit y down , ye scamp , and take your

’ fingers to a pick of your grandfather s hen .

’ oon s b u B ob children may be slow and far, t

’ ” home s aye home to them ! T H E F E L L S E R G E A N T

T H E F E L L S E R G E A N T .

T is ill enough to have to die in

Gl en aora at any season , but to get the word for travelling from it on yon trip in the spring Of the year is

- hall hard indeed . The gug gug will OO in your ears to bid you bide a wee and see the red Of the heather creep on Tom - an - d ea rc ; the soft and sap - scented winds will come in

ou at the Open door , and y will mind , maybe ,

Of a day long - Off and lost when you pulled the copper leaves of the bursting oak and

’ tossed them among a girl s hair . Oh ! the long days and the strong days ! They will l n t 9 8 The F el S ergea . come back to you like the curious bit in a tune that is vexatious and sweet , and not for words or a set thought . You will think

on l es of Of the lambs the p , the birds tearing through the thousand ways in the

of woods , the magic hollows in below the

- thick sown pines , Of the burns , deep at the

eas bottom Of and corri , spilling like gold

n o a stair . And then , it may be , Solomon

’ r Carrier s ca t goes by to the town , the first time since the drifts went Off the high road ; you hear the clatter Of the iron shoes , and your mind will go with him to the throng street where the folks are so kind and so free .

But to turn your back for the last at that time on L ec k n amb an must come sorest Of

F or L e k n a m n has all . c b a seven sheilings

s hidden in its hills , where the gra s is long

on and juicy , and five burns that are aye

a the giggle like girls t a wedding, and the

Aora daunders down in front o f the knowe ,

1 0 0 The F el l S er ea n t g . craving for one more summer of the grand world . Strong in her make and dour at

’ - in the giving , she kept talking Of the world s affairs and foolishness to the folk about her

’ who were waiting the Almighty s will and

- the coming of the stretching board . Her fingers picked without a stop at the woolly

n bits Of the blankets , and her eyes were o as much of the knowe below the house as she

out could see at the Open door . It was yellow at the foot with flowers , and here and there

of - was a spot blue from the cuckoo brogue .

“ ” Women , women , she said with short

“ ’ breaths , I m thinking aye, when I see the

flowers , Of a man that came from these parts ‘ i h ’ to Duart . He sang Mo N g ean Dubh in a d our style was never hear before in place , and he onc e brought me the scented cuckoo brogues from Aora . “ Aoiri Said the goodwife , g , p oor woman , it is n ot the hour for ancient Ol d sg enls ; b e f ” thinking o a canny going . The F el l S er ea n t 1 0 1 g .

! Going it was aye going with me , said

“ the woman in the bed . And it was aye going when things were at their best and

I was the keener for them .

“ ’ ” Of ochanie ! It s the way God , my dear ,

a on e s id Of the two Tullich sisters , putting a l ittle salt in a plate for the coming b usiness .

“ ’ 0 God ! . it s the hard way, indeed And

’ I m n ot so Old as you by two or three ” cl ippings .

AOiri ou o n Peace , g , heart ; y had your w

’ as merry times, and that s much as most of us have c laim to .

“ ” ! ! A O iri M erry times merry times said g , hu mped among the bedding, her mind wan dering.

Curls of the peat - reek coiled from the floor among the ca bars or through the hole in the roof ; a lamb ran by the door bleating for its Of nisea mother , and the whistling an g

high over the grass where his nest l ay ra n n t 1 0 2 The F el l S ergea .

of out to a thin thread Of song . The sound it troubled the dying woman , and she asked her friends to shut the door . N ow and again

Maisie would put a wet cloth to her lips

- and dry the death sweat from her face . The goodwife was throng among chests and

l for s s s s an d presses ooking heet , hroud ,

- dead caps .

“ ’ It s ou a pity, said she , y brought n o - ou grave clothes with y from Mull , my ” dear . “ Are you gru dging me yours ? asked

iri . AO g , coming round from wandering

“ N O n or . , grudging ; fine ye ken it , cousin

’ But I know ye have them , and it s a pity

’ you should be dressed in another s spinning than your own .

“ ’ A sure e : y, they re yonder nough clean

’ s an d ready . And there more than that Th b eside them . e linen I should have

’ b rought to a man s home .

“ ’ o ! it Y u and your man s home I s Duart ,

1 0 The F el l S er ea n t 4 g .

The woman ’s breast racked and the spume

- spattered over the home spun blankets .

Maisie was b eating a death - shift at the peat

u fire, t rning it over in her hands, letting the dry airs into every seam and corner .

Looking at her preparation , the dying wom an caught back her breath to ask why

- su c h trouble with a dead shift.

on Ye would not have it damp and cold ,

“ a a s id M isie , settling the business. I doubt

’ for it ll be long in the sleeves , woman , the goodwife has a lengthy reao

“ a Gl enu rc h It was at marriage in y , said

A Oiri g in a haver, the pillows slipping down

“ behind her back . Yonder he is . A slim

. R on n al R on n al straight lad , O my hero ! ! What a dancer not his match in Mull . Aye so

o A foot could be heard on the road , and n e o f for the two sisters ran out , she knew whom it would be . They had sent word to the town by Solomon in the morning for Macnicol the n t 1 0 The F el l S ergea . 5

c - wright to come up with the stret hing board , thinking there was but an hour more for poor i AOir g .

’ M ac n ic ol s were the footsteps , and there he was with the stretching- board under his arm

a good piece o f larch rubbed smooth by sheet and shroud , and a little hollow worn at the head . He was a fat man , rolling a bit to

on one side a short leg, gross and flabby at

- b ut the j owl , and thick lipped ; he might have been a swanky lad in his day , and there was

of - of a bit good humour in the corner his eye , where you will never see it when on e has b een born with the uneasy mind . H e was h u mming to himself as he came up the brae a Badenoch ditty they have in these parts on the winter nights , gossiping round the fire .

Whom he was going to stretch he had n o notion , except that it was a woman and a stranger t o the glen .

The sister took him round to the corner of the house and in at the byre door, and told 1 6 T ell er n t 0 he F S gea .

’ . n o t him to wait It ll be long now , she said .

“ ’ to Then she s still the fore, said the

“ o n wright . I might have waited the pay master ’s dram at Three Bridges if I had

’ ken t . Women are aye thrawn about dying .

’ Off to They ll put it the last , when a man would be glad to be taking the road . Who ? is she , poor woman

“ ’ ” - A cousin german Of N anny s , said the

sister , putting a bottle before him , and whip ping out for some bannock and cheese . He

n - sat down on a sheari g stool , facing the door, half Open , between the byre he was in and

AO iri the kitchen where g was at the dying .

The stretching- board leaned against the wall outside . “ so so Aye gentle , kind , the woman in the bed was saying in her last dover . H e

n kissed me first o a day like this . And the blue flowers from Aora ? ”

In the byre the wright was preeing the

1 0 8 The F el l S er ea n t g .

n o — o I am t so Old s Old . There is Seana , my neighbour at Duart - long past the four — score and still spinning I am n ot so Old

— - G od Of grace s o Old and the flowers

A grey shiver went over her face ; her breast heaved and fell in ; her voice stopped with a gluck in the throat .

The women stirred round fast in the kitchen .

Out on the clay floor the two sisters pushed

o n the table and laid a sheet it , the goodwife

’ put aside the pill ows and let A Oirig s head fall back on the bed . Maisie put her hand

o t the clock and stopped it . ! Open the door, Open the door cried the goodwife , turning round in a hurry and seeing the door still shut . One Of the sisters put a finger below the

ou sneck and did as she was told , to let t the

’ dead one s ghost .

to Outside , taking the air, get the stir Of

s out the strong water Of his head , was the

wright . The F el l S er ea n t 1 0 g . 9

He knew what the Opening of the door meant , and he lifted his board and went in f with it under his arm . A wafting o the spring smells came in at his back, and he stood with his bonnet in his hand .

’ S O this is the end o t ? he said in a soft

m out o n . way , sta ping the fire the floor He had but said it when E urig sat up with

e out . a start in the bed , and the women cri d

She Opened her eyes and looked at the man ,

fat - m with his face , his round back , and ill ade

- clothes , and the death deal under his oxter , and then she fell back on the bed with her face stiffening .

’ sa Here s the board for ye , id the wright , his face spotted white and his eyes staring .

“ ’ u I ll go o t a bit and take a look about me .

I once knew a woman who was terribly like

” on . y , and she came from Mull

B L A C K M U R D O .

’ LACK M U RDO S wife was heavy , and ’twas the time the little brown

nuts were pattering in S tron b u ie wood Stron b u ie spreads out its greenness

to of . the sun from the slope Cladich It is ,

of in its se ason , full the piping Of birds and

an the hurry Of wings, d the winds Of it have

f i rm a id the smell of a at soil . The D a s were the cunning folk to steal it ; for if Str on shira

S tron b u ie is good , is better ; and though the loops Of Aora tangle themselves in the gardens 1 1 l a c M n r do 4 B h .

Of the Red Duke , Lochow has enchantment

. F raoc h E for the galley Of a king ilean , Innis

Chon ell C hon a in — o n , and Innis they cluster

on the bend Of it like the gems a brooch ,

I n ishail Of the Monks makes it holy , and

- hen who Cruachan , lords it Over Lorn , keeps the cold north wind from the shore . They

Gl en aora S ron b uie may talk Of , but t comes

to ! close , close the heart

’ s on For all that , twa a time a poor enough place for a woman in yon plight ; for the

I n n is tr n ic h rest Of the clan crowded down on y ,

of all fighters and coarse men the sword , and a skilly woman or a stretching- board was n o nearer than a day ’s tramp over the hill and

I n n a down Aora glen to the walls Of er ora .

— ’ If on e died on Cladich - side then and twas

for a dying time , for the Athol dogs were — ever at the harrying it was but a rough

orran ac h b urying, with no c and no mort cloth ; if a child came, it found but cold

a water nd a cold world , whatever heart s

1 1 6 l a c M n r do B h .

Seven years and seven days went by , and

on Black Murdo , coming in an evening after a hard day at the deer, found Silis making the curious wee clothes . He looked at her

to th keen , questioning, and she bleached e lips . “ b S O ! said e.

” J ust so , said she , breaking a thread with

- fl ame her teeth , and bending till the peat dyed her neck like wine .

“ ’ G od , and I m the stout fellow ! s aid

out he , and he went , down all the way to

P rtin sherrich o , and lusty he was with the al e among the pretty men there .

Weeks chased each other like sheep in a

an d . fank , Silis grew sick at the heart

’ There s a time for a woman when the word of a woman is sweeter than a harp ; but there

I n n istr n ic h were only foolish girls at y , and

O coarse men Of the sword . S Murdo stayed in from the t oes when the time crept

To d o of close . see him the heavy work l ac M n r do 1 1 B h . 7 the house and carrying in the peats was a sorry sight .

- Silis kept dreaming Of Finne side , where she had heard the long wave in the spring of the year when she had gone home on a pass

’ d o wor t a woman s wedding with Long Coll .

on The same Long Coll had brothers , and e had put a man ’s foolish sayings in her ears before ever she met Murdo , she a thin girl like a - n ot saugh wand and eighteen till Beltane . — — They called him n o matter and he had the

’ way with the women . Faith , it s the strange art ! n ot n or n It is looks , dancing , or the

n or good heart , wit , but some soft fire Of the eye and maybe a song to the bargain . What e it for all ver was , it had Silis , that her goodman Murdo had a man ’s qualities and honesty extra. “ Cnnic is shiic is A l einich They say , p , ack

‘ 1 cain a thciinig A r tharaich ? in the by - word ;

1 The i s an d o o s and C an A in e came o e er b u h ll h ll w l lp t g th , t when arose Cl an A rtair ? 1 1 8 l a c M n r do B h .

but Artharaic h had age enough for a taibhsear

for whatever , Black Murdo had the Sight .

’ It s the curious thing to say Of a man with all his parts that he should be taibhsear an d see

for taibhsear visions ; a , by all the laws , should be an Old fellow with little use for swords or

- shinny sticks . But Murdo missed being a

taibhsear b an so full y ell , the fit had him

s on of seldom . He was the seventh a mother who died with the brand of a cross on her

an d was to Gl en urc h brow, she kin the y

Woman And s omething crept over him with the days , that put a mist in his eyes

“ ’ when he looked at Silis ; b ut I m n o real

“ ibhsear to ta , he said himself, and I swear by the black stones it is n o cloth . A man i h with al l the Gift might c all t a. shroud hig on her breast , but

s a bhean / b e e Sili , shall it the Skilly Dam of I n n eraora ?

’ for A light leaped to the woman s eyes , the very thing was in her mind .

2 l 1 0 B ach M u r do.

’ for there s n o denying there was breed in the pigs .

“ “ ’ H O ho ! it s , , lad said he, crousely ,

” risking it you are this day !

’ to Black Murdo s hands went his sides ,

’ where a ready man s should ready be ; but f he had sight o Silis . He could see her in

Str on b uie on in the bothy , the wee creepy stool beside the peats , and he knew she was saying the Wise Woman ’s Wish that Diar f maid mothers have s o Often need o . Length

’ to is length , and it s a far cry Lochow sure enough ; but even half a taibhsear takes n o count Of miles and time .

“ He spoke softly . I go to I n n era ora for the Skilly Woman . My wife is a daughter

’ of your folks , and she ll have none but the ” dame who brought herself home .

“ or D ia rm aid Death life ? asked the , a

- freckled hand still on the basket hilt . H e

he for put t question roughly , nobody likes

to lose a ploy . l a c M n r do 1 2 1 B h .

’

i is . I t s n ot to Life t , my lad dress

’ ” corpses but to wash weans she s wanted .

“ ” H o - chu tt ! went the blade bac k against the brass Of the scabbard (for he was M id - nasal

’

s fa . who carried it) , and the man ce changed “ ” “ n Pass ! he said . I would ot stand

’ in a bairn s way to life . Had it been shrouds

eel ers out instead Of sw , we could have had it , for a corpse is in n o great hurry . But troth

’ on e it s yourself is the tight , and I would

” have liked a b it of the Old game .

N O more than Murdo , red fellow !

’ Murdo ! S O be t ; yet Murdo will give

’ for - or me his dirk gate pay, they ll be saying f a s a arther down that Calum , good man ,

” kept out Of his way .

The biodag went flying into the grass at

’ al um s C feet , and Murdo went leaping down the glen . It was like stalking deer for the

Diarma id s e an d . H er there he had to g o

'

the r or a the haz el - into iver mong switches , or on crawl his stomach among the gall . 1 2 2 l ac M u r do B h .

From Kilmun e to U c hd an - b arrac aldin e the

or red fellows were passing, playing with the cl achneart or cabar or the , watching their women toiling in the little fields .

“ ” Thorns in their sides ! he said t o him

- self, furious at last , when another keen eyed

Diarmaid caught sight Of his tartan and his black beard among some whins . It was a

u r stripling with only a dirk , but he co ld gathe

n fifty men o the crook Of his finger .

” D iarmaid S tand l cried the , flashing the “ out e so dirk . What want y far over this way ? ”

in Murdo , even the rage , saw Silis , a limp creature , sweating in her pains , her b lack eyes (like the sloe) keen on the door .

S O so so ! close , sure , sorrowful He could have touched her on the shoulder and

her whispered in ear .

“ I am Black Murdo , he told the lad .

I am for I n n era ora for the Skilly Woman

for of . my wife , child your own clan

1 2 l a c M u r do 4 B h .

fla ff . with a Of wind Lend me your sword ,

’ ” ille /

“ ” “ - ! Squint mouth cried Murdo , your greedy clan took too much Off me this day a lready for me to part with the sweetest

- an - o n blade Gow aora ever beat iron . I took

on e it from of your cowards at Carnus , and

’ ’ ” c if it s ba k it goes , it s not with my will .

“ ’ Then it s the better man must have it ,

b e said the red fellow , and , Lord , was the neat - built on e !

Off of They took their coats , and for lack l buck ers rolled them round their arms , both

D iarm ai cal m and canny . The d was first

out ready with his brand , and Murdo put

. F or two to his point a little the men stood ,

out - spread , hard drawn behind the knees , with the cords Of the neck like thongs , then at it with a clatter Of steel .

The Skilly Woman , with the plaid pulled tight over her grey hair, sat with sunk eyes on a stone and waited without wonder She l a c M u r do 1 2 B h . 5 had sons who had died in brawls at Kilm ichael

or market , in the long foray far in Kintail ;

‘

- to ot and her man , foster brother a chief, g death in the strange foreign wars , where the pay was n ot hide and b orn but round gold . A smoky soft smirr Of rain filled all the gap

S ithea n Sl a i he between the hills , though u d and D un chuach had tips of brass from a sun

al a ha r dropping behind the S c y hills . The grass and the gall lost their glitter and b e

e a n d of L ec k n a mb an cam grey dull ; the hill ,

c where five burns are born , oaxed the mist

down on its breast like a lover . It was wet , wet , but never a drop made a rush bend or a leaf fall . Below the foot the gro u nd was greasy, as it is in a fold at the dipping time ; but the two men pulled themselves up with a leap on it as if it might be dry

a s nd , and the brogues made no error on the soil .

Diar m a id First the pressed , for he had it 6 l M ur d o 1 2 B a ch .

he over t other man in youth , and youth is

’ but tame when it s slow or slack . M urdo waited , all eyes that never blinked , with the

on . basket well up , and kept his toes — S l ank s - ll - s - ll - siod e ! p , p ank , p ank said

’ D ia rm aid s for the blades , and the a time made the most Of the music , but he never

’ got inside the black fellow s guard . Then Murdo took up the story with a snap Of the teeth , skelping hard at the red one till the

hands dirled in the basket like a bag Of pins .

The smirr gathered thicker , and went to rain that fell solid , the brogues grew like steeped

o f bladders on the feet , a scatter crows made

m the a noisy ho ing to trees at Tullich , and

’ Aora gobbled like swine in a baron s trough .

“ ” Haste ye , heroes , said the Old woman ,

cowering on the wet stone ; haste ye , dears ;

’ ” it s mighty long ye are about it .

The Dia rm a id turned the edge twice on the

arm coated , and Murdo wasted his wi nd to

’ curse . Then he gave the stroke that s worth

1 2 8 l a c M u r d o B h .

” ! on foil said Murdo , and he slashed him the groin .

“ ’ That ll do , man ; no more , said the Skilly

Woman , quickly .

“ ’ ’ I may as well finish him ; it s lame he ll be all his days any way, and little use is a man

” with a halt in a healthy clan .

’ or m Halt no halt , let him be ; he s y second

’ ” cousin s son .

Murdo looked for a bit at the bloody thing before him , but the woman craved again with bony fingers on his wrist ; so he Spat o n the dirty green tartan and went . The smoke rose from him and hung about with a smell of

Of wearied flesh , the grey the mist was black

t at Carn u s . When the pair came over agains

on e c a n Lochow , where see the holy isle when it is day , the night was deep and cold ; but

“ the woman bent at the c ross with a M hoir e

” Mha thair , and so did the man , picking the clotted blood from his ear . They dropped

a down the brae on the hous e at l st . l a c M u r d o 1 2 B h . 9

’ For a little Black M u rdo s finger hu ng on

c a n d the sne k , when he heard a sound he pushed in the door .

All a bout the house the peat - reek swung like mist o n the mountain . Wind and rain

c e fought it out on Cladi h bra , and when it was not the wind th a t cam e bold through

’ - the smoke hole in the roof, twas the rain , a beady slant that hissed on the peats like roast

c ing herrings . The woman lay sla k on the bed , her eyes glossed over with the glass that folks see the great sights through , and her fingers making love over the face and breast of a new - born boy that cried thinly at her knees . A lighted cruisie spluttered with heavy smell at the end O f a string on a rafter .

“ ’ O Skilly Woman , Skilly Woman , it s late

c . we are , said Bla k Murdo

Late enough , as ye say, j ust man . Had ye bartered an Old sword for twenty minutes

Tom - an - e on the dear , I was here before danger . 1 l a c M u r d 30 B h o.

Then the Skilly Woman set him on the wet

of windy side the door , and went about with busy hands .

of The man , with the ragged edge his kilt scraping his knees and the rain bubbling in

a his brogues , le ned against the wattled door and smeared the blood from his brow . A cold wind gulped down from Gl en urc hy and ghosts were over I n ishail . The blast whirled a bout and whirled about , and swung the rowan

like a fern , and whistled in the gall , and tore

’

cr . the thatch , all to drown a child s y The blackness crowded close round like a wall , — and flapped above like a plaid S tron b u ie was in a tent and out Of the world . Murdo

to strained hear a voice , but the wind had f the better O him . He went round to the

to b ut gable, thinking listen at the window , the b o ard on the inside shut the wind and him out . The strange emptiness Of grief was in his belly .

c Inside , the Skilly One went like a wit h ,

1 2 l a c M u r do 3 B h .

D iarmaid o n o n e side , for all that your hair is black as the sloe . Look at the colour Of him ! ”

’ “ Fright was in the mother s face . Come

” ou close , come close till I tell y , she said , her long hair damp o n her milky shoulders . The Skilly Woman put down her head and listened with wonder .

Me - the - day ! Was I not the blind one to

? ? N O on e miss it His name , white love shall ken it from me , not even Murdo .

’ A man s name took up the last breath Of

Silis ; she gave a little shiver , and choked with a sound that the Old crone had heard too Often not to know .

She looked , helpless , for a little at the bed ,

’ then felt the mother s feet . They were as

c old as stone .

’ A cry cau ght Murdo s ear against the wat

tles , and he drove in the door with his shoul

c . der , heeding no sne k nor bar

“ ” Am not I the blind fool ? said the crone . l a c M n r do 1 B h . 3 3

’ e Th re s your wife gone , cheap enough at the f ” price of a yard o steel .

They stood and looked at the bed together,

c the bairn crying without noti e .

” taibh I knew it , said the man , heaving ;

r or sea half whole , I could see the shroud on her neck !

The grey light was drifting in from Cladi c h .

The fi r- trees put stretched fingers up against

Of the day, and Murdo was placing a platter salt o n a bosom as cold and as white as the snow .

“ ’ o n You re feeding him the wrong cloth ,

e c e c said he , se ing the ron give su k to the child

’ from a rag Of D ia rm a id tartan dipp e d in goat s milk . T H E b o m is y grew like a tree in a drea , that

u seed , sapling , and giant in one t rn on the

’ Stron b u ie s side . wattled bothy, Old and ugly , quivered with his laughing , and the young heather crept closer round the door . The

Spotted Death filled I n isha il with the well

a - one fed and the w rm happed ; but the little , w o n e ild the brae , forgott n , sucking the whey

a u O f from r gs and robbing the b sh its berries ,

gathered sap and sinew like the child of kings .

It is the shrewd way of God ! There was

‘ for bloody enough work forby , never a sheil ing p a ssed but the brosey folks came pouring

Gl en stra e down , scythe , sword , and spear , and

c c e a n d went ba k with the attle b fore them ,

1 6 l a c M u r do 3 B h .

a a ! the h lt , and then f rewell to ye he said , wearying for the day when the boy should avenge his mother .

Folks far - wandered ones brought him news of the man with the halt that was his

D ia rm a id w e giving, the hos bargain for a

- - sword on T o m a n dearo cost Silis her life .

He passed it on to the boy , and he filled l ’ him with O d men s tales . He weaved the

O f I n n eraora for cunning stories of the pigs , all that the boy ’s mother came from their m— loins , and he made the what there may — well be doubts O f c owards and weak .

“ : They killed your mother , Rory her with the eyes like the sloe and the neck like snow . Swear by the Holy Iron that the man f ” with the halt we ken O gets his pay for it .

Rory swore o n the iron . It is an easy thing for one when the blood is strong and i d the b o ag still untried . H e lay awake at

’ night , thinking Of his mother s murderer till

on the sweat poured . He would have been l a c n r do 1 B h . 3 7 the trac k of him befo re ever he had won his

’ the cl ack - on id - ear b ut man s bonnet by lifting f ,

Murdo said , Let us be sure . You are young

of yet , and I have one other trick fencing

” worth while biding for . m At last , upon a ti e , Murdo found the boy

“ c Now could mat h himself, and he said , let

” a us to this aff ir .

He took the boy , as it were , by the

r a n hand , and they up the hills and down

the hills , and through the wet glens , to wherever a Dia rm a id might be ; and where were th ey not where strokes were going ?

The hoodie - crow was no surer on the scent

B l ar - - of war . na leine took them over the six valleys and the six mountains ; Cowal saw them on the day the La monts got their bellyful ; a knock came on them on the night when the Stewarts took their best from Appin

I n n eraora and flung themselves on , and they went out without a word and marched with that high race . 1 8 l a c M u r do 3 B h .

But luck was with the m a n with the h a lt they sought for . At muster for raid , or at m arket , he was there , swank man and pretty but for the lam eness he had found o n an ill

o n - an - ear day Tom d c . He sang songs round

O f the ale with the sweetness the bird , and

a Off his stories c me ready enough the tongue . Black Murdo and the boy were Often close

on ff enough his heel , but he was O and away like the corp - candle before they were any

b a d nigher . If he magic , it could have

n o happened stranger .

Once , a caird who went round the world with the j ingle Of cans on his b ack and a

of sheaf withies in his oxter, told them that a lame D iarm aid was bragging at Kilmi c hael fair that he would play single - stick for three

- days against the country side . They sped down to Ford , and over the way ; but nothing

o f n came it , for the second day had found o o n e to t o come the challenge , and the man

a a with the halt was home g in .

1 0 l a c M u r do 4 B h .

a b e that pl ce yonder that shall not named , and should hold his head as high o n Aora

’ as any chief Of the boar s snout ; but mo thrnaigh / mo thruaigh / the black bed of Mac

M a c artair artair is in the Castle itself, and

iarm a i is without soil or shield . How D d got

’ O ld the place is a sennachie s tale . As much

’ ” O f the land as a heifer s hide will cover, said

M ac C ail ein the foolish writing , and had the

n guile to make the place his ow . He cut the

of - hide a long backed heifer into thin thongs ,

ron b uie and stretched it round S t . There is day about to be seen with his race for that !

I n n eraor a u Over to then went M rdo , and

Rory clad for fighting, bearing with him the l ’ keen O d sword . Twas a different time going down the glen then from what it was on the misty day Murdo fetched the Skilly Dame ;

D ia rm aids for the he met by the way said ,

“ ’ taibhsear Ti s the Lochow and his tail , and

or let them by without a word , maybe with

’ e a salute . They w nt to the Skilly Dame s l c M n r d 1 1 B a h o. 4

m ’ house , and she gave the the Gael s welcome ,

o mar a - dha bh with bann cks and crowdie , g and

B u t ale . she asked them not their business , for o f that is the way the churl . She made them soft - scented beds of white hay in a

c dirty bla k corner , where they slept till cock crow with sweet weariness in their bones . The morning was a grey day with frost and

’ snow . Jumping John s bay below the house was asleep with a soft smoke like a blanket

e over it . Lean deer from b hind the wood f came down trotting along the shore , sni fing the saltness , and wondering where the meat

- was . With luck and a good sgian dn bh a q u ick lad could do some gralloching . The tide was far out from Ard Rannoch to the Gallows

c tree , and first there was the brown wra k ,

and then there was the dun sand , and on the

edge of the sand a bird went stalking . The

Old man and the young on e stood at the gable and looked at it all .

It was a short c u t from below the castle 1 2 l a c M u r do 4 B h .

f w as to the point o Ard Rannoch , if the tide

“ o . out , to g over the sand What we wait

” “ on , said M urdo , softly , goes across there .

e There will be two men , and them y shall not heed , but the third is him ye ken of.

’ Ye ll trap him between the whin - bush a n d

n o the sea , and there can be escaping unless

” he takes to the swimming for it .

out Rory plucked his belts tight , took the good blade wondrous quiet , breathing fast and heavy . The rich blood raced up his back , and tingled hot against his ruddy neck .

“ ” s on ? What seest thou , my said Murdo a t last .

n o A man with a quick step and limp , quoth the lad .

“ Let him pass .

“ old Then again said the man , What seest thou ? ”

“ bodach o n A frail and bent , with a net his

’

u . sho lder , said Rory

” him a s Let p s .

1 B l a ck M u r d 44 o.

a o s nd , and tugged the bonnet down on his br w , while the man limped on between him and

the sea . Then he stepped out briskly and

“ ! ” t said , Stop , pig He said it strangely sof ,

and with , as it were , no heart in the business ; m for though the la e man was strong , deep

e breast d , supple , and all sound above the belt , there was a look about him that made the

young fellow have little keenness for the work .

“ ” D ia rm aid a Pig ? said the , putting b ck his shoulders and looking under his heavy

“ the brows . You are Lochow lad who has been seeking for me ? ”

H O ! ? , ho red fellow ; ye kent Of it , then

’ Red fe llow ! It s red e nough you are your

’ self, I m thinking . I have no great heed to

’ of s draw steel on a lad your colour , o I ll

” just go my way . And the man looked with queer wistfu l eyes over his shoulder at the

a - lad , who , with bl de point on the sand , would

a have let him p ss .

But u p - b y at the hou s e the taibhsea r wa t c hed l a c M a m a 1 B h . 45

The e the meeting . qui t turn it took was beyond his reading , for he had thought it

a - to would be but the rush , and the fast f ll , and no waste Of time , for the tide was com ing in . ! White love, give him it he cried out , making for the shore . He looks lame , but

’ ’ ” the pig s worth a man s first fencing .

’ Up went the boy s steel against the grey

Of cloud , and he was at the throat the Diar

“ a o n maid like beast . Malison your black

! a heart , murderer he ro red , still gripping D i his broadsword . The arm aid flung him Off like a child , and put up his guard against the whisking O f his blade . “ ! ” Oh , foolish boy he panted wofully as the lad pressed , and the grey light spread over sea and over shore . The quiet tide crawled in a bout their feet ; birds wheeled on white feathers with mocking screams ; the Old man

leaned on his staff and cheered the boy . The

Dia rm aid o f had all the coolness and more art , 6 l ac M u r do 1 4 B h . and he cou ld have ended the play as he

a . B u t a n d w nted he only fended , at last the slash worth fifty head found his neck . He fell

on on his side , with a queer twisted laugh

“ — e his face , saying, Little hero , ye fence y fence H “ ! ! ” Haste ye , son finish the thing said

taibhsear l a d the , all shaking , and the did as

ho c kin u he was told , g at the sp rt the blood m ade . He was pushing his dirk in the sand to c on lean it , when his eye fell the Skilly

Woman hirpling nimbly down to the shore .

She was making a loud cry .

’ ! ! ea God God it s the gr t pity about this ,

the e said she , looking at Murdo cutting silv r ff ’ b u ttons O the corpse s j acket . Ken ye the man that ’s there dripping ? “ ’ m The man s no ore , said Rory , cool

“ ou . en gh He has gone travelling , and we m ” forgot to ask his na e .

“ e to Then if happy you would be , go hom

c o a u him Lo h w , and ask it not , nor aught bo t ,

T H E S EA - F A I RY O F F R E N C H

F O RE LA N D

1 2 Th a - F a r F r en F or l a n 5 e S e i y of ch e d . the folks at the fire but every door was a wa y into a quieter quietness , and the Castle was my own . I sat at last on a black chair

that had a curious twisted back , and the tears

on went raining the lap Of my kilt .

Long , long I sat , and sore I grat , my mind

Of full, not so much Of my way lost , but the

of bigness Of things , and the notion what it

to would be to have live in a castle at night , with doors on every hand for ghosts to rap

for at , and crooked passages without end

“ owst . g y winds to moan in Thinks I , The smallest hut in the town for me , with all plain before me , with the one door shut and my face

it to , and the candlelight seeking into every crack and cranny !

It was then that the fairy King came on me ou t c of the sewed loth hanging on the wall .

our o n He was a dainty wee man , in w

e o n b aron l tartan , with a steel plat his breast y style , and strange long curly hair . I ran my wet eyes down seven silver buttons the shape T e a - F a ir o F r en c F r el a n 1 h S e y f h o d . 5 3 of salmon o n the front Of his vest before I

o so let myself go , but g I must , I put fast heels on my fright . I galloped with a frozen

’ tongu e through miles of the Duke s castle till a door brought me out on the grass of

C a ir n b a n , in front Of the friendly bleeze that my own folks were pouring the stoups Of water on . That was the only time the quiet folk and

I c ame to ou r a meeting, though family was always gleg at seeing things . A cousin german once saw the fairy bull that puts up

S teall aire - in Loch bhan behind the town .

It came on a jaunt to the glen in the guise

son O f Of a rich maiden , and my cousin , the

u to . the ho se, made love her One night — in a way that I need n ot mention he fou nd him self in her room combing down her yellow hair , and what was among her hair but fine

“ s a nd that told the whole story ? You are a

” rua ach of ! c g g the lake ried the lad , letting

on the comb drop the floor, with his face 1 The S ea - F a ir o F r en c F or el a n d 5 4 y f h .

w hite , and the thing turned to its own shape

and went bellowing to the shore . And there was a man— blessings with him !

’ — for he s here no more who would always be going up on S ithea n Sl uaidhe to have troke with

ee the w people on that fine knowe . He would bring them tastings Of honey and butter to put them in a good key , and there they would dance by the hour for his diversion to the piping Of a piper who played on drones Of grass with reeds made Of the midge ’s thrapple.

on e Still , in all my time I know but body who could find the way to the den Of the Sea

Fairies , and she was a lass whose folks were in

C ean n m or at the time the French traflic k er s were coming here to swap casks of claret wine for the finest herrings in the wide world . It was her custom to go down on the hot days to the shore at the Water - foot when the

o u t tide was far , and the sand was crusting

the - with salt in sun , and the wrack balls burst

1 6 The S ea - F a i 0 F r e F or l n d 5 ry ] n ch e a .

M arsel i On a day at that time , that I speak

Of had been bathing at the C ean n m or rocks — having a crave for salt water the C ean n mor

n o r folks nowadays are t ve y namely for .

on When she had her gown again , she went round to D al chen n a sands and out far to the

f on edge o the tide , where she sat a stone and

of took to the redding her hair, that rolled in — copper waves before the comb rich , thick, and splendid .

on so Before her , the tide was the turn slow and soft that the edge of it lifted the

on d ry sand like meal . All about the weedy stones the tailor - tartans leaped like gr ass

- fi sh out hoppers , the spout stuck far Of the sand and took a fresh gloss on their shells from the sun .

Y ou might seek from shire to shire for a

’ a e handsomer maid . She was at the g that s

’ out a father s heartbreak, rounding at the bosom and mellowing at the eyes ; her skin

as was like milk , and the sigh was at her lips - F a ir o F r en c F or el a n 1 The S ea y f h d . 5 7

Often as the song . But though she sighed , it

C ean n mor was not for the fishermen , coarse

an d for b earded , rough in their courting ; she

’ had vanity, from her mother s side , and queer

’ notions . The mother s family had been rich

in their day , with bards and thoughtful people among them . “ - n ow If a sea fairy could see me , said “ M ar eli to s , it might put him in the notion

” come this way again , and she started to sing the child - song

L e o e o com e to me ittl f lk , littl f lk, , ” F om the o es a l ie e o th s r l bbi th t b l w e ea.

S o a acl e ! g cried a gull at her back , so

to plainly that she turned fast look , and there was the fairy before her !

ot M arseli Up g , all shaking and ready to

b ut r - fly , the fai y man looked harmless enough

l o to as he bowed w her, and she stayed to put her hair behind her ears and draw her gown c loser . 1 8 The S ea - F a ir o F r en c F or el a n 5 y f h d.

He was a little delicate man the smallest Of

’ a el i u t M rs s brothers could have p in his oxter , with close curled hair, and eyes as black as

’ Ridir L oc hiel s waistcoat . His clothes were

Of - the finest the fine , knee breeches with silk hose , buckled brogues , a laced j acket , and a — dagger at his belt n o more like a fairy Of the

’ knowe than the green tree s like the gall . You ’re quick enough to take a girl at her

” M arseli on e word , said , cunning , thinking to hide from him the times and times she had cried over the sands for the little sea - folks to come in with the tide .

The fairy - man said something in his own

for tongue that had no sense the girl , and he

l ow in bowed again , with his bonnet waving his hand , in the style Of Charlie Munn the dancer .

“ You s in d mu t speak the Gaelic , sai

“ M arseli t or ou , s ill a bit put about ; if y

n ot have the Gaelic , I might be doing with

”

E for . the nglish , though little I care it

- a 1 60 The S ea F a iry qf F r en ch F or el n d .

B a n for the first time . I learned it from e n

” Francie in the Horse Park . The stranger had a merry laugh— not the — roar of a Finne fi sherman and a curious way Of hitching the shoulders , and the laugh

and the shoulder - hitch were his answer for l Marsel .

“ ’ — You ll be a king in the sea in your own

— or place a prince maybe , said the girl , twist

ing rushes in her hand .

The man gave a little start and got red at

the face .

’ so ? b e Who in God s name said asked , looking over her shoulder deep into the little

- b irch wood , and then uneasy round about

him .

“ “ M a rs eli. I guessed it , said The kings

- b - Of the land fairies are y ordinar big, and the ” dagger is ever on their hips .

l ell to Vi , indeed , said the little fellow,

say I was king were a bravado , but I would not ” be j ust denying that I might be Prince . The S ea - F a ir o F r n c F or el a n d 1 6 1 y f e h .

And that way their friendship began .

At the mouth of many nights when the

fi shin - Off or g boats were at the fishing , some times even by day when her father and her

two b rothers were chasing the signs of sea

on M arseli pig and scart far down Tarbert , would meet her fairy friend in a cunning place

- - at the Black water foot , where the sea puts

its arms well around a dainty waist of lost

on e land . Here can see Loch Finne from

Ardno to Strathl ac hl a n : in front lift the long

Auchn ab reac lazy Cowal hills , and behind is wood full O f deer and birds . Nowadays the Duke has his road round about this cunning

fine place , but then it lay forgotten among

whins that never wanted bloom , and thick,

soft , salty grass . Two plantings Of tall trees

kept the wind Off, and the centre Of it beaked in warm suns . It was like a garden standing out OE upon the sea , cut from the throng road at all tides by a cluster Of salt pools

of and an elbow the Duglas Water . 1 6 2 The S ea - F a ir o F r en c F or el a n d y f h .

Here the Sea - Fairy was always waiting for o n e r the girl , walking up and down in o

o f - f other the tree clumps . He had do fed his fine clothes a fter their first meeting for

plain ones , and came douce and soberly , but aye with a small sword on his thigh .

The girl knew the folly Of it ; but to

to of morrow was always be the last it , and every day b rought new wonders to her . He

c fetched her rings once , Of unning make , studded with stones that tickled the eye in a way the cairngorm and the C rom al t pearl could never come up to . She would finger them as if they were the first b laeberries of a season and she was feared to spoil their bloom , and in a rapture the Sea - Fairy would watch the sparkle of eyes that were far before the jewels .

D O your folk wear these ? she asked .

” “ N ow n ow and then , he would say , and

: to - then . Ours is a strange family day we

1 6 The S ea - F a ir F r en c F or e n d 4 y of h l a .

“ - Troth , he said , and the same fal fals have done a lover ’s business with more credit to them before this . There are dames in

France who would give their souls for them

” on e and the they belong to .

“ ” “ You have travelled ? said M a rseli. Of

course a sea - fairy

“ Can travel as he likes . You are not far ! wrong , my dear . Well , well , I ken France ! O France , France round and about the cold ’ ? world , where s your equal

H is eyes filled with tears , and the broad

cloth on his breast heaved stormily , and

M arsel i saw that here was some sad thinking . f ” Tell me O Fairydom , said she , to change

him OE so dull a key .

“ ’ Tis the same , the same . France and

’ - fairyland , tis the same , self same , madame ,

- said the sea prince , with a hand on his heart

o and a b w .

He started to tell her of rich and rolling

fields , flat and juicy, waving to the wind ; of - F r en c F r el a n 1 6 The S ea F a iry of h o d . 5 c ountry houses lost and drowned among

“ one flowers . And all the roads lead way,

“ s to . aid he , a great and sparkling town

or Rain shine , there is comfort , and there is the happy heart ! The windows Open on

out the laughing lanes , and the girls lean and

who on our . look after us , prance by horses

There is the hollow hearty hoof- beat on the c ausey stones ; in the halls the tables gleam with silver and gold ; the round red apples roll over the platter among the slim - stemmed

- wine beakers . It is the time Of soft talk and

of the head full gallant thoughts . Then there are the nights warm and soft , when the Open d oors let out the laughing and the gliding o f - shoon ed silk feet , and the airs come in heavy with the scent of b rec k an and tree ! ”

“ “ ’ M ars eli On my word , said , but it s like

’ a girl s dream !

“ You c — m may say it , bla k eyes , o chridhe !

The wonder is that folk can be fou nd to live - F n c F el n 1 66 The S ea F a iry of r e h or a d .

ou Of so far astray from it . Let me tell y

” M ars el i o f the castles . And he told women

for - sighing at the harp far wandered ones , or sewing banners of gold . Trumpets and drums and the tall chevaliers going briskly by with the j ingle of sword on heel on the

to highway wars , every chevalier his love and

’ a girl s hands warm upon his heart .

That night M arseli went early abed to wander in fairydom .

N ext day the sea - gentleman had with him a curious harp that was not altogether a

r harp , and was hung ove the neck by a ribbon .

? M ar eli What hast here asked s .

for t ! A salve a sore hear , lass I c an

on play it some Old tunes , and by the magic

’ ’ of it I m back in my father s home an d

” unafeared .

He drew his white fingers Over the strings and made a thin twittering of music sweeter

cl arsach - than comes from the strings , but

1 68 The S ea - F a iry of F r en ch F or el a n d.

Tis the enchantment Of fairydom , said

“ ’ oinseach o I she . Am not I the t listen ? ll

warrant you have sung the same to many ” a poor girl in all airts of the world ?

The little on e laughed and up with the

“ ’ “ . uo shoulders On my sword , q he , I

could be content to sing to you and France

for all my time . Wilt come with a poor

’ ” Prince on a Prince s honour ?

He kissed her with hot lips ; his breath

was in her hair ; enchantment fell on her

b ut re like a plaid , she to herself away h and ran home , his craving following at er

heels .

’ That night M arsel i s brothers came to

f an d the knives with the French tra fickers ,

morning saw the black - avised ones sailing

- to e out over sea for home . Back French For

n o - land they came more, and Finne side took to its own b rewing for lack Of the red wine f o France .

- too . That , , was the last Of the Sea Fairy e S ea - F a ir o F r en c F or l a n Th y f h e d . 1 69

M arseli to - went the Water foot and waited , high tide and low ; she cried the Old child tune and she redded her hair , but never again the little man with the dainty clothes, and the sword upon his thigh .

S H U D D E R M A N S O L D E R I .

E YO N D the B ean n a n is the B og

- of the Fairy Maid , and a stone put farther is the knowe where

S hud d erm an Soldier died in the snow . He was a half- wit who was wise enough in one

t thing , for he knew the hear Of a maid , and

Of the proof it came in the poor year , when

the glen gathered its corn in boats , and the potato - shaws were black when they burst the

’ ground , and the catechist s horse came home by Dhul oc h - side to a widow that reckoned

on . no empty saddle And this is the story .

“ ’ H o ho snas e ! n or , , said the wind , and 1 S hu dder ma n S ol dier 74 .

the snow , and the black frost , as they galloped

Gl en aora down like a leash Of strong dogs . It was there was the pretty business ! The

S al ac hary hills lost their sink and swell in the great drifts that swirled on them in the night ; the dumb white swathes made a cold harvest on the flats of Kilm u n e ; the frost

he gripped tight at t throats Of the burns , and turned the Salmon - Leap to a stack of silver lances . A cold world it was , sure enough , at the mouth Of day The bloodshot sun looked

for over Ben Ime a little , and that was the last O f him . The sheep lay in the shoulder

’ Of the hill with the drift many a crook s - length

- of— - above them , and the cock the mountain

on and the white grouse , driven the blast , met death with a blind shock against the

- edge of the larch wood .

Up from Lochow , where Kames looks over to Cruachan , and Cruachan cocks his grey

a c p against Lorn , a foolish lad came that day for a tryst that was made by a wanton

1 6 S hudder ma n S ol dier 7 .

“ when he asked , and they told him . Then

’ ’ to for n ot there s a story tell , if he s here ,

’ ’ n ot on he s at Kames , and his grave s the ” grey mountain . E Later came Luath , the collie Of llar , slinking through the snow wet and weary ,

’ and without wind enough for barking . Twas

’ as good as the man s ghost .

The shepherds came in from the fanks ,

C arl on an o and over from the curling at , t go on a search .

of Long Duncan Drimfern , the slim swarthy champion , was there before them . H e was a pretty man— the like never tied a shoe in — Gl en aora and he was the real on e who had

’ M airi s eye, which the dead fellow thought ! had the laugh only for him . But , lord a young man with a good name with the shinty and the clachnear t has other things to think

of D on acha Of than the whims women , and never noticed .

“ ’ — We ll go u p a nd see about it about him S hu dd er ma n S oldier . 1 77

” - at once , Mairi , he said , sick sorry for the girl . All the rest stood round pitying , because her kists were said to be full Of her own spinning for the day that was n ot to be . Mairi took him to the other side Of the

- peat stack , and spoke with a red face . “ I s it any use your going till the snow ’s

OE ? the hill , Drimfern she said , biting at

n ot the corner Of her brattie, and looking the man in the face .

“ ’ D hia g leidh sinn it s who knows when the

’ off white ll be the snouts of these hills , and we can ’t wait till I thought it would

” D n a ha ease your mind . And o c looked at the maid stupid enough . For a woman with

on her heart the hill , cold , she was mighty

on queer it .

“ for ou Yes , yes ; but it s dangerous y to

’ o go up , and the showers s heavy yet . It s n ot twenty fi n ger - lengths you can see in

” f an o d o . front you , you might g into the bog

“ ’ u Is t the bog I wo ld be thinking of, 1 8 hu dd r m n S oldier 7 S e a .

’ for Mairi ? It s little fear there is Of that , here is the man that has been on S al achary when the mist was like smoke , as well as

r when the spittle f oze in my mouth . Oh ,

’ ’ I m not the on e to talk ; but where s the other like me ? ”

Mairi choked . But , Dona but , Drim ’ E — fern , it s dead llar must be ; and and you have a widow mother to mind .

D n ac ha h o looked blank at the maid . S e

ou of had the sweet face , y curve the lip , and

’ the soft turn of the neck o f all Arthur s

r children , ripe Of the cheek , with tossed hai

r Of like a fai y the lake , and the quirk of the eye that never left a plain man at ease

c if he was under the threes ore . There were

o u knives t in the glen for many a worse on e .

It Wa s the lee Of the peat - stack they stood in , and the falling flakes left for a while without

’ a shroud a drop Of crimson at the girl s feet . She was gripping tight at her left wrist under the cover of her apron till the nails cut the

1 80 S hn dd r m n S ldier e a o .

laugh , strained as it was . He thought the

’ maid s reason was wandering .

—a She had , whatever it was square piece

’ — ’ of cloth Of a woman s sewing into the man s hand before he knew what she would be

on after ; and when his fingers closed it , she would have given a king ’s gold to get it back . But the Tullich lads , and the Pay

’ ec k namb an master s shepherd from L , with

’ R0 Dol Splendid and Francie , in their plaids , and with their crooks , came round the gable

. Gl en aora end Luath , who knew as well as

n C ra n d a he k ew Creag , was with them , and

D n ac ha away they went for the hill . All that o

on e the blind said , as he put the sewing in his pocket to look at again , was , Blessing

” with thee ! for all the world like a man for the fair .

’ n or Still the wind , and the snow, and the

“ dark frost said S nas o f running down the glen like the strong dogs on the peching deer ; and the men were not a hundred yards away d r a S di 1 8 1 S hu de m n ol er .

from the potato - pit when they were ghosts

out that went altogether, without a sound ,

’ like D rim en d orran s Grey Dame in the Red

’ r Forester s sto y . A white face on a plump neck stood the f sting o the storm dourly, though the goodwife said it would kill her out there , and the father

“ ! on a cried Shame her sorrow , and her “ ’ f ” maiden . Where s the decency o you ?

“ fi erc e - ou says he , like ; if it was a widow y

’ were this day you couldn t show your heart more . And into the house he went and

two supped cogies Of brose, and swore at the s a l a g g for noticing that his cheeks were wet .

When the searchers would be high on the

hu dd erman on hill S came the maid . He was

on e a wizened , daft Old , always in a tinker

’ Fencible s tartan trews and scarlet doublet .

He would pucker his bare brown face like a foreign Italian , and whistle continually . The whistle was on his face when he came on b the girl standing ehind the byre , looking up 1 8 2 S hu dder m a n S old ier .

’ with a c orpse s whiteness where the B ea n n a n should be .

“ ’ - he ! ! Te Lord but we re cunning , said

“ ’ . E the soldier It s a pity about llar , is it ? ” not , white darling

Mairi saw nothing , but swallowed a sob .

Was this thing to know her secret , when the wise Old women of the glen never guessed it ? There was something that troubled her in his look . The wee creature put his shoulder against

the peats , and shoved each hand up the other

sleeve of his doublet , while he whistled soft , and c unningly looked at the maid . The cords f O her neck were working , and her breast heaved sore , but she kept her teeth tight together .

“ ’ A a u so y, y , it s an awf l thing , and him

” on fond , too , he went ; and his face was nothing but a handfu l O f wrinkles and peat smoke . It was a bigger ploy for the fool than

. a. good dinner

hn de S ol dier 1 84 S d r in a n .

E ’ coming back any more than poor llar. It s namely that Drimfern got the bad eye from the Gl en urc hy woman come Martinmas next because Of his taking up with her cousin

’ ” german s girl , Morag Callum .

“ Yon s a achd ! p g doll , indeed

d o n ot God , I know about that ! but they ’re telling me he had her up at all the

’ G ee ie s reels at Baldy p wedding, whatever,

’ and it s a Maclean tartan frock she g ot for ” —I o n the same saw it with my w eyes .

“ Lies , lies , lies , said the girl to herself, her lips dry, her hands and feet restless to d o

z to some cra y thing kill the pain in her heart . She was a little helpless bird in the hands

Of the silly one . He was b ursting himself inside with laugh

’ b e for ing , that couldn t seen the snow and

n e the cracks o his fac .

’ ’ But it s not marriages n or tartan you ll b e

on own thinking , Mairi , with your lad up i there st E. Let Morag have Drimfern hudder ma n S l dier 1 8 S o . 5

Y ! S hud d erm an ou and your Morag , if it

n o on e ou was t the crazy you were , y would see that a man like D on a c ha Drimfern would

n o M ac C all u m have dealings with the breed Of , ” tinker children Of the sixty fools .

or Fools here fools there , look at them in the castle at Duntroon ! And Drimfern is 9 ,

“ ’ Drimfern again ! Who s thinking of

’ Drimfern , the mother s big pet , the soft ,

’ soft creature , the poor thing that s daft about the shinty and the games —and — and

G O inbye , haverer, and oh , my heart , my heart ! ”

“ Cripple Callum , whistled the daft wee on e ; and faith it was the great sport he was having ! The flame sparkled in the lass ’s

eyes ; she stamped furiously in the snow .

She could have gone into the house , but the

S hu dd erm an would follow , and the devil was in him , and she might j ust as well tell her

r - sto y at the cross roads as risk . S O she stayed . 1 8 6 Shu dder m n S ldier a o .

0 on e ! Come in this minute , foolish her mother came to the door and craved ; but no .

The wee bodach took a wee pipe from his big poke and started at the smoking . When his match went out the dark was almost flat on - the glen , and a night hag complained with

’ a wean s cry in the planting beyond the burn . At each draw Of the pipe the eyes Of the

’ soldier glinted like a ferret s , and like any

’ a ferret s they were watching . H e put in word between - while that stabbed the poor

’ of thing s heart , about the shame love in maids uncourted , and the cruelty Of maids

- that cast love looks for mischief. There were some Old havers about himself here and there among the words : of a woman who changed

’ her mind and went to another man s bed and

f b e board ; o sport up the glen , and burials E ’ yond ; and llar Ban s widow mother, and the carry - ou Of Drimfern and the Gl en urc hy

’ ’ - woman s cousin german s girl . And it was

8 8 Shu dder ma n S old ier 1 .

and the peat - stack danced into the world

out and Of it , and the clouds were only an

’ - arm s lengt h overhead . The men were coming down the brae in the smother Of snow, carrying something in a plaid . The dog was done with its barking , and there was n o more sound from the coming ones than if they were ghosts . Like

N O n enough to ghosts they looked . o e said l a word til the goodman spoke . ? You have him there he said .

A beannachd leis ! al l of y, that there is

’ him , said the Paymaster s man ; and they

’ ’ M airi s took it but an ben , where mother had the white dambrod cloth she had meant

on for herself, when her own time came , the table . “ ’ E It s poor llar , indeed , said the good man , noticing the fair beard .

“ ’ ’ ” Where s D on ac ha ? where s Drimfern ? cried Mairi , who had pulled herself together

- s e and come in from the byre end , where h hu dd r m n S ldier 1 8 S e a o . 9 had waited to see if there was none of the watchers behind . The Paymaster ’s man was leaning against

- the press door, with a face like the clay ;

’ D ol Splendid was putting a story in the

’ sg al ag s ear ; the Tullich men were very

on OE busy it taking the snow their boots . Outside the wind had the sorry song of the curlew .

“ ’ Me - the - day l it s the story of this there ” is to c RO tell, at last said Fran ie , with a

“ shake Of the head . Poor Drimfern

“ ’ — a Drimfern y, where s Drimfern in all ? ” the world said the goodman , with a start . He was standing before his girl to keep her from seeing the thing on the table till the wife had the boots covered . It was the face of caill each of c b a a threes ore Mairi d .

“ ’ It s G od knows ! We were taking Ellar there down , turn about resting. It was a

’ cruel business , for the drifts . There s blood

On m his side where he fell so ewhere , and 1 0 S hu dd er ma n S l di 9 o er .

Drimfern had to put a clout o n it to keep

’ ’ E D r imfern s the blood O his plaid . That s

’ D on ac ha s plaid . When second turn was

’ over up at the bog, we couldn t get a bit

’ Of him . He s as lost as the deer the Duke

” shot , and we looked and whistled for hours .

The maid gave a wee turn to the door,

’ shivered , and fell like a clod at her mother s feet . “ ! Look at yon , now Am not I the poor father altogether ? ” said the old man with

“ a soft lip to his friends . Who would think , E and her so healthy , and not married to llar , that she would be so much put about ? You ’ll

’ for n o excuse it in her , lads , I know , she s t

- twenty till the dipping time , and the mother maybe spoiled her .

“ Och , well , said the Splendid one , twist

“ ’ ing his bonnet uneasy in his hands , I ve seen them daft enough over a living lad , and

’ ’ ” it s no great wonder when this one s dead . They took the maid beyond to the big

r i r 1 9 2 S hu dde ma n S ol d e .

on e maybe , but any way that some will miss ” more .

“ ’ on God s heavy , heavy a woman ! said

“ D n a ha m the poor child . I gave o c a sa pler

o n with something sewn it yesterday , and

o the men , when they g up the hill to look

d on — for him to ay , will get it him and it would

“ ’ A a y, y, ay l I ken , my dear . We ll

’ ” or . put that right , I m no soldier And the little man cocked his bonnet on his head like a piper . Then he was sorry for the

on pride Of it , and he pulled it down his

to face , and whistled stop his nose from lagging “ My heart ! my bruised heart ! they ’re

E D on ac ha saying sorry things Of llar , and

’ dead . The cotter s wife was talking this ’ ! morning, and it ll send me daft

“ ’ “ Blind , blind , quo the soldier ; but

’ amadan you ll not be shamed , if the can

’ help it . S hu dder ma n S ol di r 1 e . 9 3

But what can you do , my poor Shudder

— — ’ man ? And yet and yet there s no on e between Carnus and Croit - bhile I can speak to Of it .

“ ’ G O home , white love , and I ll make it

” on e right , said the daft , and faith he looked like meaning it . “ ? ” Who knows thought the girl . Shud d e rman was c hief enou gh with the Gl en urc hy

Gl en u rc h woman , and the y woman sometimes gave her spells to her friends . S O Mairi went home half comforted . A cogie Of brose and a bit braxy in his ] belly, and a far Of cake in his poke , and out stepped the Shu d d erm a n with never a

n word to any o e about the end of his journey .

’ D Ol Splendid had told him the story of the

w a s night before , and whereabout Drimfern

B ean n an lost , close beyond the . He would m find the body and the sa pler , he promised himself as he plunged up the brae at T a rav h

a dubh . The dogs were nearly s furious as 1 Shu dder ma n S ol dier 94 .

’ e the night befor , and the day s eye was blear .

f Kilm n Hours passed , and the flats o u e were far below . There was nothing in all the world but

bodach whiteness , and a silly Old with a red

i S hu e m an coat trailing across t. dd r Soldier sank his head between his shoulders as he pushed himself up with his hazel crook , his tartan trews in rags about his ankles , his doublet letting in the teeth Of the wind here

u and there , and at the best gr dging sore its too tight shelter for his shrunk body . He

n ot had the wind to whistle , but he gasped

“ of F a ill - il - O bits , and between he swore terribly at the white hares that j erked across in front of him with the ill - luck of a lifetime on their backs .

If it was the earth that was white , the sky was n ot far behind it ; if they were

a paper , it would t ke schooling to write on

’ them straight , for there wasn t a line between

O f B al a n t re them . The long sweep y itself

1 6 S hu dder ma n S l dier 9 o .

i tired wrists could hardly br ng him up , and the corpse Of the world swung in his eyes when he was on his feet again and trying to steady himself.

’ There s a gr een knoll beside the B og Of

- the Fairy Maid , where the wee folks dance

’ on reels when the moon s it , and there the

Old fellow stru ggled to . He thought if he was up there he would see some sign of what he wanted . Up he pushed , with the

az cr oma h el g bending behind him , and his

n - brogues slipping o the round snow soles .

of Up he went , with the pluck a whole

man , let alone a poor silly Obj ect ; up he

on went till he got his foot the top , and

aw then his heart failed , for he s nothing of what he sought .

“ ’ ’ I ll look again when I m out Of this

— ’ ” foolish sleep , I ll see better when I waken , said the poor amadan ; and behold the dogs were o n him ! and he was a man who

wa s . Shu dder ma n S oldi r 1 e . 9 7

F or all that , the story tells , Drimfern was n o ghost . When he was lost he found

Kames , where the Callum girl was that came to his fi r e - end later and suckled his E ’ ’ clan . And llar s mother , dressing her son s

Kilm u n e on corpse in the house at , found his wound a sampler that went with him to his long home in green I n ishail . Its

the of letters , sewn in folly a woman , told her story

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his

f r mouth : o thy love is better than wine .

WA R .

1 .

Of was the pause the morning,

e a wh n time st nds , and night and day breathe hard ere they get to grips . A cock with a foggy throat started

- - S l oc hd a G . at the crowing , down at hubair Over from Stron a shrewd thin wind came to make stir am ong the trees in the Duke ’s big garden , and the crows rasped their

- beaks on the beech branches , for they knew

’ that here was the day s forerunner . Still

on out and the town slept , stretched full , 2 0 2 Wa r .

on dour set the business . Its quirky la nes and closes were as black as the pit . There

on e was only light in all the place , and a big town and a bonny it is , house and house

with high outside stairs and glass windows , so that the wonder is the King himself does n ot to take thought stay in it , even if it were only for the c omfort of it and the c om

f il in on O M ac C a e . e pany the Mor Only light , and that was splashing, yellow , and mixed

’ - ou t b s with a thick peat reek , of J ean Ro

c on Open door , fa ing the bay , on the left ,

N ow the Lowlands road . and then Jean

o would come t the door and stand , a blob

to of darkness in the yellow light , see if the

o n or to day was afoot Ben Ime , throw a look at the front Of the town for sign s of folk stirring .

n ot ! ! ! N ot a peep , a peep Sleep sleep

Few Of them part with a man to - day with ” so sore a heart as J ean Rob .

for Then back to her Culross girdle, she

2 Wa r 0 4 .

is the way with wars , but any way wars there were : the Duke and his House would have it that their people must up and on

on with belt and target , and away the weary road like their fathers before them . Some said it was the Ol d game with the I n v erl oc hy dogs (rive them and seize them l) ; others , that some bast a rd was at variance with the — Duke about the Papist Stewarts a silly lad called Tea rl ac h with a pack of wild Irishers and duddy Macleans and Macdonalds and Camerons from the I sles and the N orth at his back .

“ Bundle and G O it was any w ay in

Campbell country from Cruachan to Cowal ,

C ant re Of K h n from y to the march ep p oc a , and that ’s the fine rolling land Of sappy grasses and thick woods . I n the heart and midst of it Duke Archie played dirl on the

o f boss his shield on a cold March day, and before night swords were at the sharping

’ from shore to shore . That s war for ye Wa r 2 0 . 5

o f quicker than flame , surer than word mouth ,

’ ” and poor s the man who says What for ? to his chief.

o n Rob Donn , for all that , was vassal t o man ; for he was come Of the swor d smiths

Of the glen , and they had paper to show that their rigs were held for n o service other than beating out good fighting steel on the

. on anvil Poor as he was , he could wear e feather in his bonnet if his fancy was on f on e eathers , and no bragged more Of his

E ri m or — a forefolk . But l g thin Old man — with little stomach for quarrels O Eered twenty pounds E nglish for a man to take his place with the Campbells and Rob took

’ of El ri m or s the money and the loan g sword , half for the sake Of the money and half for

of the sake a bit play with Sir Claymore .

to Said he his wife , j ingling the Geordies

“ ’ on ot in his hand the day he g them , Here s

’ the price Of a hero ; and troth it s little

’ ” enough for a good a rm smith s blood ! 2 6 Wa r 0 .

’

s a R ob . Don t y it , , said J ean

O c h ! a m I but laughing at thee , good wife . Brave dogs would they be that would

D iarm a i face the tusks Of the d boars . Like

— — ’ the wind on the c haE troosh l we ll scatter

’ ” them ! In a week I ll be home . “ In a week ? ”

’ To be sure , J ean . I ll buy with the m oney a stot or two on the road to bring

’ back with me , for there s little lifting in

’ ’ u the ! the D ke s corps , more s pity My grandfather seldom c ame back from the wars without a few head of cattle before ” him .

’ o S the money went in Rob Donn s sporran ,

a n d Jean would have hit her tongu e out before

’ she would cra ve for part O t from a man going

a among str ngers and swords . The bairn had but one word for her father

from then till he started , and that was

on e Coc kade . What it was the little

e nev r knew , but that it was something braw

2 8 Wa r 0 .

went again to the door to look about and listen .

“ A a ! . y , y up at last , she said to herself

’ ’ There s the Maj or s light , and Kate M hor

of up for the making his breakfast , and a

’ ’ lowe in the weaver s shed . The Provost s is dark — poor man !— it ’s little his lady is caring !

She was going to turn about and in , when the squeal of a bagpipe came from the town

a n d head , the player started to put his drones

. O c han oc han in order said poor Jean ,

of for here , indeed , was the end her hopes ; there was no putting back from the Duke ’s errand . She listened a little to the tuning

iobaireackds as if it was the finest Of p , and it brought a curious notion to her mind of the first reel she danced with her man to

the squeezing of that same sheepskin . Then the reeds roared into the air Of “ Baile

I n n eraor a .

“ ch a B el O h siad e nis ! E irich, eirich, Wa r . 2 0 9

” R ob ! she cried in to the man among the

for blankets , but there was no need the summons . The gathering rang far ben in

Rob the chambers Of sleep , and was stark awake , with a grasp at his hip for the clay more .

“ Troth ! I thought it was the c amp ! and

o n them us, he laughed foolishly in his beard .

’ Up and down the street went Dol Dubh ,

’ the Duke s second piper , the same who learned the art Of music right well from the Mac ru im en s Of Boreraig, and he had as sweet

on a s P a d ru i e a finger the chanter g hims lf,

e with the nerv to go round the world . Fine ,

fine it was for him , be sure , to be the sum moner to battle ! Lights j umped to the little lozens Of the windows and made stre aks on

’ O f the cracks the doors , and the Maj or s man came from his loft ganting with a mouth like

’ the glee d gun , a lantern swinging on a finger ,

’ making for the stable to sad dle his maste r s Wa r 2 1 0 .

horse . A garret window went up with a bang ,

M a c I nt re ou t and Peter y , wright , put a towsy head and snuffed the air . It was low tide in the two bays , and the town was smelling less

- f - of peat reek than o sea wrack and saltness .

n hu a h One star hung in the north over D u c c . “ They have the good day for starting the

“ was jaunt , whatever , said the wright . If I

or o n e a stone two lighter , and had to look

i ’ OE o n after the shop , it s this ploy I would

” be too He took in his head , the top nod

O n a n d ding briskly his Kilmarnock bonnet , wak ened the wife to help him on with his clothes .

A A o a B a e I nn eraor ora, r , il a,

I g ot a biddin g to B a ile In n eraora

I ot the d d n b u t e e a e me g bi i g, littl th y g v ,

a A o a B a Cha il ein M hoir A or , r , ile

’ out Dol Dubh was up at the Cross , swelled

- like a net bow, blasting furiously , his heart

’ athu m . p with the piper s zest Doors drummed ,

’ e windows scre ched in their cases , women s

W r 2 1 2 a .

in L ec k n amb a n had p u t before him ere he had boot over saddle .

a ir Then the town stirred to its aE s . The

’ Major s hors e went clattering over the c obble

- - stones to his door end , the arm room door

Opened , and Old N anny Bheag, who kept

OE on the key, was lifted her feet and in , the rush of young lads making for the new guns Lorne Cle rk had up from the Low

Country . On the belts Of the Older men ,

the fi re - loth to leave end , mothers and wives were hanging bags with thick farls of cake ,

Ol d and cheese , and the Aora salve for sword

caill e cuts . I f they had their way Of it , these achan u , the fighting gear would be all kebb cks of n o cheese and dry hose , and powder and

- ball . The men blustered , high breasted , with

a n d too big words in their beards , no name dirty for the c rew they were OE to scatter

- p raising them selves and making the fine

a s prophecies , their folks did before them with better rights when the town was Wa r 2 1 . 3

m ore in the way Of going t o wars . Or t hey

for a roundly scolded the weans m king noise , though their eyes were learning every twist

Of the copper hair and every trick of the last

r moment , to think on when long and drea y would be the road before them .

’ ’ There was a break in Dol Dubb s music ,

’ and high over the big town rang the C orn al s

c voi e , starting the bairns in their sleep and setting them up and screaming . Laggards ! laggards ! O lazy ones ! Out !

’ out ! Campbells before were never so swear t to be marching . It is time to be steeping the withies !

Hard back went the stout doors on the

out walls , and ran the folk . The brogues skl iffed and hammered ; men with muskets ,

swords , dirks , and targes ran down the street ,

m c and wo en and hildren behind them . A tumult filled the town from side to side and

to en d end , and the lanes and closes were s t a o reaming with the light from g ping do rs . 2 1 Wa r 4 .

the Old and young , the boy and snooded

boda girl , women with bairn at breast , ch and caill each , took to the Cross muster, leaving the houses Open to the wind and to the world .

u m The cats thr m ed by the fires , and the smell

- of the sea wrack came in beside them .

“ ” ou u I have y here at last , said the Cor al , dour and dark , throwing his keen eyes along

“ the row Of men . Little credit are ye to

’ L o my clan and chief, and here s to the w

to lands low , and would God I was there n ow among the true soldados with stomachs for slaughter and the right skill Of fence and

ul z ie tow musketoon ! A short t , and a at the thrapple Of bastard Chevalier wo uld there

’ be in that case . H ere s but a wheen herds ,

weavers , and gillies holding Brown Betty like a kail - runt !

H e on e was Of the Craignish Campbells ,

C or n al — of who the Dugald , brother Lachan got death at a pl a c e called Fontenoy in the

m — e u a n d sum er before v ry sib to the D ke , it

6 W 2 1 a r .

leaving the woman without a groat , and only a boll of meal in the girnel and a wee fi rkin

Of salted fish .

The steady breeze came yet from Stron , and sat snug in t he sails of the six boats

’ that carried the Duke s men over to Cowal .

’ - - s kiE Brog and Turk s put out first , himself at the helm in his tarry jacket ; the others ,

c on deep down , followed lose her heels . One

by o n e they fell Off from the qu ay . The men waved their bonnets and cried cheerily and

vaunting, as was aye the good grace Of

Clan D iarm aid at the first and the last Of

foraYS o “ Blessings with ye ! ” cried the folk left

’ - behind , wet eyed ; and even the Provost s

wife took a grief at her inside to see her man with a shaking lip look round the

’ hin m o s sail of the t boat . Cheering and

ochain ! weeping , singing and there they were

on the quay and on the sea , our own folk ,

ou r dea r folk ; and who were ever like them Wa r 2 1 . 7

to when it came the bit , and stout hearts or kind hearts were wanted ?

“ ” ! C or n al Stand back, kindred cried the ,

c putting spurs to his horse , and he pran ed u - to p the town head , a pretty man , join the

Maj or and gallop round the loch - head to

- join the corps at Cairn dubh .

’ D Ol D u bh stopped his pl aying at the bow

’ of Brog - an - Turk s s kiE when she gulped the

of m en first quaich brine , and the in all the boats started t o sing the Old boat - song of

Aora M O C hrid he tha mi seoladh

A o a m ea I am s a n n r , y h rt , ili g, sa ili g,

F a r to the Sou th on the s l ope Of the s ea ;

A o a m o chr idhe is c o d is the far an r , it l l d,

B e the s an e w wan d s on his oo a itt r tr g r ith d rw y . A o ra M ochree

It came back on the wind with a sorrow

o a t bre k hearts, sinking and swelling as the

- wind took the fancy , and the long n ecked herons stood on the fringe of the tide with their heads high to listen . The sails got Wa r 2 1 8 .

scattered and shrunk , and the tune got thin

of and low , and lost at last in the swish

o n of the waves the shore , and the ears those who listened heard the curlew piping

’ cursedly loud over the Cooper s Pool . A grey cold day with rain on the tail Of it . H igh Creag Dubh with its firs and alders and rowans stark and careless over the hollow town . Broad day and brightness , and the cruisies an d candles burning the ghosts of

a fl me in the empty houses , with doors wide to the empty street and the lanes a nd clos es

2 2 Wa r 0 .

’ befall a packman ; b u t better s the lot of the fighter with steel at his haunch , fire at his heart , and every halt a day closer to them he would be seeking . But the folks behind in the Old place !

M o thr a ai h ! mo thr uai h ! g g Daybreak , and hot sun , and the creeping in of the night , when the door must be snecked on the rover ; the same place , and still with a want in it , and only guessing at where and how is the loved one out on strange ways o n the broad world . Far up the long Highlands the Campbells

Sl o were on th e ir way . Loch y and Glen

’ ’ a ll oc h R a n n oc h s F , bleakness and Ben Alder s

own steepness , and each morning its wet

its grass and misty brae, and each night

ea dreams on the springy h ther .

A woman was weeping on A c had u n an because that her man was gone and her

’ chimney stone was cold , and Rob Donn s sporran was emptied at her feet , though he Wa r . 2 2 1

knew not so much as the name of her . But

“ ’ he took a thought and said , I ll keep the

’ for half, long s the way before us , and ill is travelling among strangers without a round

” ’ piece in the purse . That was but a day s

R ob march from Jean , and she was making a supper Of crowdie that was the first meal

Of the day .

- On Spey side was the camp Of the Argylls ,

n - a d card play round the fires , with the muskets shining, and the pipes playing sweeter for slumber than for rouse .

“ on I will put my watch this turn , said

a black Lowlander in the heat Of the game .

’ Rob Donn s watch is the sun on Tom

” “ n - ard ar our a u , said hero , but here ar e

” n ou t te yellow Geordies , and went his fortune f among the roots o the gall .

Tr oosh! beannackd l eat ! and the coin was

’ e a j ingl in the other one s pouch . “ I have plenty more where it came from ,

’ and cattle enough forbye , said our braggart , 2 2 2 War .

and he turned on his elbow whistling C rodh

” Chail ein .

let who But them follow the drum will ,

’ r fo us the story s beside the hearth . It is not

an d ulz i f a clatter Of steel the t es o Chevaliers , but the death Of an only bairn .

In her house on the Lowlands road Jean

R ob u starved with the tr e Highland pride , that sets a face content against the world

or at kirk market . Between her and a craving

- fi sh for stomach lay but shell and herbs , she

n ot to on e had a plack spend , and the little

ot l g all the milk that came from Mal y , the

on e . dappled , drying up for calving Break of day would see the woman , white , thin ,

- out on fi shin keen eyed , the ebb before the g boats were in , splashing in the pools in the

for c l ab b ie - or sand partans and doos , with two ready fingers piercing the sand to pull

- the long spout fi sh from his hiding . Or she d woul put little stakes in the sand , and between them a taut line with baited hooks

2 2 W 4 a r .

on a a hake from the nets , she would come m young wo an .

“ D hé ! Jean Rob ! is it thyself that is here ?

“ for Just J ean , my darling , a little turn ,

o f because the stir in the town , and the smell

Of the barking nets . Well I like the smell

O f of i the bark , and the wind takes little t ” up the Lowlands road .

Thou art n ot coming out much since the men went to the N orth . Art well at — ” the house the little one , now , bless her ?

“ ’ m endail . Splendid , splendid , Faith , it is too fat we will be getting on the fortune m ” Rob g o t from Elr ig or . “ ! I ndeed , yes , Jean , it was the great luck When a poor person comes H

! n o r Hut tut Poor rich , my people had

ow n a L oc howsid e their pl ce on , and little

’ d id my Rob need Ma c Nic ol s dirty money ;

‘ ’ horO - all but he was aye fond of a y y , and

’ ” that s the way of his being among them . Wa r 2 2 . 5

’ l ou r own Well , we l , if that s the way , people were good enough on a time ; but a

e pedigree , thou wilt allow , is a poor plast r f or . a pain in the stomach For me , I would have a good shaking o f herring and money in the town . It was b u t blac k

for our on e to - brochan meal day , and my

” mother poorly .

“ ! och cl ! My dear , my ear and I to brag of ! o n plenty Little enough , in truth , is my own board ; but I have a boiling Of m eal if you come for it in the morning .

“ Kindly , kindly , thou good dame . It would be but a loan .

“ o ut of Yes , indeed , one will be running

’ n o w the wherewithal and again , and twas

‘ ’ aye Mine is yours and yo u rs is mine in

” Gaeldom . But I must be stepping .

And while Jean Rob starved , there was never a word from the best and bravest Off

or how at the wars , they fared , only now and then a half t a le from a travelling caird 2 2 6 Wa r .

or a Low- Country carrier about gatherings and skirling pipes and hard knocks . His

Grace himself kept a horse or two and a

o n of good rider the other side the Rest , to gallop hot - hoof into the Castle with the

first news Of how his clan won ; but weary was the waiting .

to The town took its Old appearance , the

- aged men clack clacking with the shuttle , the boys scattering seed over the rig - and

of fur the ploughed fields , the women mind

oo ing their houses . And that , t , is war for ! ye The dirk is out , the brogues trail over the hills and through the glens , the clans

meet and clash , the full heart belches blood , the grass soaks , the world and the chance of it is put on the luck o f a swinging stroke ’ ! ! at yon one s neck . War war red and

— ! oh lusty the j ar Of it fills the land But , mo Chr idhe ! home in Glen Shie are women

’ o n and bairns living their w day s life , and the crack will be blithe in the sheilings to

Wa r 2 2 8 .

There might be an eye many times a - day o n the Stron Point to see if a horseman was

c u rounding it , and the r isies were kept burn ing a little longer at night in case the news would come in the darkness like the Athol thieves . But patience was ever the gift of

a n d few the Gael , lost heart . And at last the news came Of Culloden

Moor . — It was on a Sunday a dry clear day

c u and all the folk were at the h rch , with

Old Colin the minister sweating at it for the

of C ea n n l oc h good the fishermen in the loft . He was in the middle of his prayer when a

of noise came over the town , a dunting hoofs on the causey of the Provost ’s house front . “ ! ” Amen said the cunning Colin , quick as

“ a n d e could be, then , Friends , her is news for us , and down the pulpit steps he ran

f e briskly like a lad o tw nty .

Pet e r M a c I n tyre set back the bolt from Wa r 2 2 . 9

a a n d him the door with a b ng , past the

’ people made rush . The Duke s rider from over the Rest was there in the saddle O f a grey garron foaming at the mouth and its hurdies in a tremble . “ ! Your tidings , your tidings , good man cried the people .

The lad sat stark in the saddle , with his eyes wet and his nose pricking with the

Gaelic pride .

“ I have been at the Castle , and

” Your news , j ust man .

I have been at the Castle , and Mac

ail ein C Mor , who said I rode well from the

in - b Rest , said I might come y and carry my budget to you .

’

P aru i . Out with it , g , little hero Is t good ” or ill ? “ m What would it be , y heroes , with our

’ wn ? of o lads , but good Where s the beat

’ ‘ ’ ’ them ? It s The Glen is Mine D Ol D u bh

u will be playing this day on C lloden , for 2 Wa r 30 .

t ours is the battle . They scattered the dir y

Northmen and the Irishers like chaff, and

C ail e in M or himself gave me a horn of ale

’ ” from his ow n hands on the head o t .

’ A roar wen t u p that stirred the crows on

S c aurn oc h , and there was a Sunday spoiled fo r you ; for the ale went free and merry in

’ the change - house at the Duke s charge till the moon was over Ben Ime . But there were five houses with the clocks stopped (for the ghosts take n o heed Of time) ; five houses with the glasses turned face to the wall (for who dare look in glass to see a wraith at the back Of the shoulder ?) there were four widows and five mothers

for wet faced , keening five fine men who

n had been , and whose names were ow writ

On paper on the church door .

2 Wa r 3 2 .

qu a ys in the morning heard the fine tune

’ c of the c adger s linking silver . In a hurry of hurries the fleet came up to the mouth

Stra thl a c hl an of Shira Tarbert men , men ,

a m en a M a c C a ll u m Min rd , bl ck fellows from

u - traffic k ers co ntry, and the wine from French

Foreland to swap sour claret for the sweet fat fish .

It was hO - ro l and spill the bicker in yon

O f town , for all that the best its men were away and afar at the killing . The smoke

’ was blac k from the fires in the Cooper s

of t Pool , the good healthy smell the gu pots sought up to the Castle door . Little doubt his Grace (beannachcl l eis ! ) would come out to the door - step and c urse because it

e c ! mad him bo k his breakfast , dainty man

Throng t hough the town was , round about the little house on the left Of the Lowlands

c Road crept a queer quietness . The ow had dried , and the dull weather kept the spout fish too deep down in the sand for Wa r 2 . 3 3

m S O the ready fingers to reac h the . the household Of Rob Donn starved to the bone . “ — T O - m orrow th ey will be home to

” morrow , said J ean to herself every day to keep up her h e a rt ; but the days went

u it w a s by , and tho gh something to know th a t Rob was not am ong the killed at C u l

not loden , it was something to stay the

- E stomach . A stone throw O were the best and kindest hea rts in the world : the

’ c a t woman s cousin , the rich mer h n , would give all he had on his board if he knew

u u her tro ble , and friends witho t number

her would share the last bite with . But to ask it wou ld be to say she was at the

o R ob l west , and to tell that had left her nothing , and she would sooner die in her pride . Such people as passed her way— and some

Old — Of them gossips would have gone in ,

he withie but t was aye across the door, and 2 Wa r 34 . that ’s the sign that business is doing within

n e i hi n o o dare disturb . The w t e was ever there except at night , when Jean was scour

r for to ing the count yside something eat .

The b airn dwined so fast that even the

’ mother (and blind indeed s the mother at

of that bit) saw a little it . There was no longer the creepie - stool at the back of the

o house , in the sun , and the bairn n it, watching the birds ; her shanks grew thin like spirtles ; her eyes sank far ben in her

n ot face , and she would go the lengt h Of

at the door . She sat the fireside and

laughed her poor cold laugh less every day, till on e long thought came to her that kept her busy at the thinking from morning till

cailleach of night with a face like a eighty .

“ ” White love , white love, Jean would b e “ on saying, your father is the road with stots and a pouch Of cockades .

At that the bairn would come back from her roaming ; but soon she was O E again

2 6 Wa r 3 .

and blood , stroking in the hair , softening

’ the c ushion , petting her in every hand s turn . She made a treat to herself by asking her, now and then , something that had to

” “ ” ” N O be answered Yes or , and Mother was so sweet in her ears that she would be c ontent to hear no more in all her life time .

All the day the bairn crou c hed up in a hoop - c hair with her neck slack and her chin on her breast . Jean was loth to leave her

for in her bed in the mornings , she had a notion that to get her out of the blankets and to put her in the clothes Of the busy world would be to keep her in the trim for living on .

Still there was no sign of the men re

’ o t u rn ing . Often was Jean s foot at the d or and her hand over her eyes to see if there

n o Kila c hatrin e was stir at Stron or , and

fi ve— but for good stuff, her heart failed score

- times a day . Wa r 2 . 3 7

a on d a a c At l st , a y of d ys , the bairn ould not b e stirred to noti c e a nything . The tansy

f c fell o u t o her fingers , and she pi ked at the wool O f the plaid that wrapped her ; the sh ells had no c harm for her eye .

Jean made the p a c k O f the c om ing fa ther

“ a as ro u th as a m agi c c ve . That fa ther o f

s yours , darling , what a many wonderful thing

! him . he will bring I see on the road Stots ,

r the e and cows with milk brimming f om udd rs , and a pet sheep for his cail eag bheag ; pretty gold and silver things , and brooches and

. a ! shining stuff Th t father of yours Hurry ,

! w e e a father, hurry J ingling things , and f iry

’ m e n e fo r m endail e , and b lls to ring you , ; pr tty

a n e — glasse s d dish s to play with , and O my

” darling ! my da rling !

’ The bairn s face lost the deep red spots ; her little m outh slacked and fell ; her eyes shut on the sight O f the fine things he r poor mother made for her out of a ri c h a n d willing mind . 2 8 Wa r 3 .

o n J ean lifted her and put her the bed , and ran with a gutting- knife to where Mally

on e the dappled lay at the back . “ ! ” I must be doing it said the woman , and she bled the brute as they d o in the

o f poor years in Lorn , and took the cogie blood into the house to make a pudding of. The last handful Of meal in the girnel went into the pot with the warm blood , and she was stirring it with a spoon over the fire when the child cluttered at the throat .

J ean turned about with a cry, and at the minute a bagpipe ’s lilting came over the glassy bay from Stron Point .

It was Clan Campbell back from the wars , the heroes ! clouted about the heads a n d with stains on their red waistcoats that were

’ D ol thicker than wine makes . Dubh played

the Old port , sweet and j aunty , at the head of them ; the C orn al and the Maj or sn uEed

“ ’ our own the herrings and said , Here s

! ou r place , sure enough See the smoke from

2 Wa r 40 .

u Name it , co sin . l ’ C orn a . Well ye ken , It s that I had not been with you to see the last cr u shing Clan Campbell may need to give to an asp ’s head .

“ ’ It was a good ploy missed , I ll not deny .

What about the T ea rl a c h one ? Well plucked , they are telling me ?

“ As foolish a lad as ever put tartan on

M a c C a il ein hip , my lord Frenchy , Frenchy , all outside and no cognisance . Yourself or any Of your forebears at the head of his clans could have scoured all Albainn Of Geordie ’s

L ow - - Country red coats , and yet there were only six thousand true Gaels in all the fellow ’s

corps .

“ T o read my letters , you would think the

” whole N orth was on fire !

’ A bantam s crow , cousin . Clan Campbell

itself could have thrawed the neck of it at

any time up to Dunedin .

m a ? They de a fair stand , did they not Wa r 2 1 . 4

— Uch ! Poor en d indeed it was not what

’ ” ou u tu l z ie y wo ld call a coward s either . “ ’ ! Well , well , that s over , lads I am proud

S l ochd a Clin bair n O f my clan and town . g br a h / - g Stack your guns in the arm room ,

u - b see your wives and bairns , and come p y

’ to the Castle for the heroes bite and su p . Who ’s that with the white cockade in his bonnet ? Is ’t Rob Donn ? ”

“ It is Rob Donn , cousin , with a bit of the ribbon contrivanc e for the diversion of his bairn . He tore it from the bonnet of the seventh man he put an end to .

“ ’ There s luck in the number , any way , ! ” though it was a dear plaything . March

Down the road , with their friends hanging

m c u about the , and the boys arrying g ns and

the m en knapsacks , went for the town , and Rob Donn left the company as it passed n ear his own door .

“ ’ u m - m Fa ith ! tis a poor eno gh ho e co ing , 2 2 W r 4 a .

or to on e without wife bairn meet , said he,

as he pushed in the door . “ Wife ! wife ! he cried ben among the

“ ’ ’ - e peat reek , there s never a stot , but her s ” the cockade for the little on e !

A F N E PA R O F S H O E S I I .

H E beginnings Of things are to be — w ell c onsidered we have all a

little Of that art ; but to end well and wisely is the gift Of few . H u nters and — herds on the corri and the hill they are at the simple end of life , and ken the need for the task complete . The stag must be gralloched

O f ere ye brag him , the drove must be at the market ere ye say anything of the honesty of the glens ye pass through .

And what I like best about o ur own Gaels is their habit Of bringing the work o f a day or the work Of a lifetime to what 2 F P i oe 46 A in e a r of S h s .

(in their own notions) is an end round and polished .

our d When women die , they o it with some

- thing O f a daintiness . Their dead clothes are in the awmrie ; I have seen them with the cakes toasted and the board set for their

on for funerals . Travelling wide unfriendly ei n or ou g roads , living by sword wit , y know

ur that o men , the poorest among them , with

of an emp ty sporran , kept the buttons their

to for duds Of good silver, pay, if need be ,

’ something more than a gangrel s burial . I

ho like to think of him in story w , at his end

out in bed , made the folk trick him in gallant

b r style with tartan , targe , ogue , and bonnet ,

and the sword in his hand . ” “ A Gaelic gentleman , said he , should

’ come to his journey s end som ewhat snod and

“ - - son well put oh . And his played Cha till

mi tu ilidh I return n o more on the bag

pipe by his firm command .

I t is n ot even in this unco undertaking of

2 8 F in e P a ir o S oe 4 A f h s .

- with the serpent work of the old crosses .

n or nor Bite sup , kail crowdie , did he taste all day . Working in the light Of his open

door, he could see , if he had the notion , the

out whole glen rolled before him , brimming f with sun , crossed in the heat o the day by deer from D al avic h seeking for the woods

Of Loch Finne ; the blue reek of the town ships at the far end might have cheered him with the thought that life was in sight though his house was lonely . But crouped over the

- lap stone , he made love to his work , heeding nothing else but the sewing of the fine pair of shoes .

It was the night before the town market .

of — Droves bellowing cattle heifers , stots , and stirks— were going down the glen from Port

S on ac han u u , cropping h rried mouthf ls by the way as they went and as the dogs would let

a them . And three Benderloch drovers c me

’ Off m the road and into Baldi Cro s house, after the night was down on the glen and F n e P a r 2 A i i of S hoes . 49

he had the cruisie lighted . They sat them down round the fire in the m iddle Of the floor an d ate bannocks and cheese .

’ ’ Ill ea sb u i ? s How s thy family , g aid a drover , stirring up the peat as if he were at

- o n his own door end . Down the roadside

the cattle , black and yellow , crushed the sappy grass and mourned in bellows for their lost fields .

“ ! ! Ol d Splendid splendid said the man , double over his shoes , fondling them with the

n fingers o f a mother o a first baby . The

l ow for O il light was in the cruisie , the was well down , and the fire and the cruisie made a ring of light that could scarcely slip over the backs Of the men sitting round the peats .

A goat scratched his head but - and - ben against the wattles ; in corners the darkness was brown and thick .

’ C ail en s L ow - c u I hear in the o ntry , but

” of T o rm a id ? on e what has come said , with

- knee breeches , and hose Of coarse worsted . 2 0 A F in e P a ir o S oes 5 f h .

The Old man gave a quick start , and the lapstone fell from his knees , the shoe he was

H e at with it . bent over and felt like a blind man for them on the floor before he made answer . “ Tormaid son ! n o , my gallant Ye have t ” heard Of him lately , then ?

’

Ill eas ui . on Never a word , b g People the

’ going foot , like drovers , hear all the world s

gossip but the sg euls of their own sgireachd .

We have been far North since Martinmas

for us there must be many a story to tell

’ n twixt here and I n n eraora . A stout lad a d

T ormaid to o o pretty , , as ever went t the

beginning of fortune ! Where might b e b e enow ? ” “ ! Here and there , friend , here and there

s . A restless camp , a wanderer, but with parts Had he not the smart style at the game Of

camanachd ? H e was namely for it in many ” places . “ As neat a player as ever took shinty in

2 2 A F in e P a ir o S 5 f hoes .

Throughither a bit ! But good , good at heart , man With a better chance o f fortune he might be holding d f ” his head to ay as high as the best o them . The drovers looked at each other with a meaning that was n ot for the eyes of the Old man ; but he had small chance Of seeing it , for he was throng at his fine pair of shoes .

“ ” for the He had a name many arts , said

“ man with coarse hose , but they were not the arts that give a lad settlement and put ” money in his purse .

“ ! H e The hot young head , man would

” Ol d . have cured , said the man , sewing hard

” “ : Think Of it , said he was ever a more humoursome fellow to walk a glen with ? H is

’ songs , his stories , his fast j ump at one s mean

of in ing, and his trick leaving all about him a good key with themselves and him . Did ever on e ask a Saxon shilling from his purse that it was n ot a cheery gift if the purse held it P ir o S oes 2 A F in e a f h . 5 3

! True , indeed said the drovers , eating b annocks and cheese .

“ ’ ” e Twixt heaven and hell , said the f llow

’ w a . ith the co rse hose , is but a spang It s so easy for some folk to deserve the on e gate — — - so many their gifts that the cock suren e ss leaves them careless, and they wander into the ” wrong place .

“ You ? were speaking said Baldi , a little

a . ngry , though he heard but half

son wa s I said thy a fellow of many gifts , a nswered the drover, in a confusion .

n o of He had unfriends that I ken , said

“ u the Old man , busy at the shoes ; yo ng or old or , man woman . E specially woman , put in another drover, wrinkling at the eyes .

“ ’ ’ I ve had five sons : three in the King s

’ s r an d on e L o - e vice , in the w country ; here s — h — my young wanderer , and he was e is the jewel Of them all ! ”

You hear of him sometimes ? 2 A F in e P a ir o S oes 54 f h .

I heard of him and from him this very day , said Baldi , busy at the brogues , white and drawn at the face and shaking at the

“ lips . I have worked at these shoes since

to morning, and little t ime is there put bye on for I n n er a ra them , at o town must they

s be before breakfast . Solomon Carrier, pas

” ing at three , gives me a cry and takes them .

’ They re a fine pair Of shoes .

Fine indeed ; the finest Of the fine !

’ ” They re for a particular on e . ? Duke J ohn himself, perhaps

N O o n e , man ; a particular , and were they

’ n ot his in time a sorry man was 1 . They re the best Baldi Crom ever put leather on . Till the turn Of the night the drovers slept

out - b in their plaids , their cattle steaming y

a in the dark , munching the coarse gr ss sel

ved e . g , breathing heavy And when the men an d their beasts went in the darkness of the

morning , Baldi Crom was still throng at his

fine pair Of shoes .

2 6 A F in e P a ir o S oes 5 f h .

before the Arches . Round about it were the

fo townspeople waiting r a hanging .

“ ’ ’ Who for ? is t , and what is t asked the drover with the knee - breeches and the coarse hose , pushing into the crowd .

“ Tormaid son of s , the the Carnu cobbler ,

a said woman with a plaid over her head .

“ H e killed a man in a brawl at B ral ec k a n and raped his purse . Little enough to p ut

’ o for tow t a pretty lad s neck , sure enough “ ! ” Stand clear there cried a sharp voice , and the hangman and his friend came to the

’ sca ld s foot with a lad in front Of them , his hands shackled behind his back . He was a strong straight lad , if anything overly dour

h e oa in t e look , and he wor a good c t and

s b ut n or b . trew , neither boot onnet Under the bea m he put back his shoulders with a jerk and looked at the folk below , then over at D un chu ac h with the mist above the fort like smoke .

“ They might have given him a pair of F in e P a ir o S oes f h . 7

old b au c hel s n o to , if better , die in , said

’ r the drove in the woman s ear .

“ ” han ch / Oc o and they might ! she said . The darling ! He lost his shoes in swimming

Duglas Water to get clear , and they say he

to for sent yesterday his father a pair, but

’ they re not come . Queer , indeed , is that ,

’ for twas the brag o f the folks he came Of that they aye died with a good pair Of shoon on t heir feet !

C A S T L E D A R K .

? O U know Castle Dark , women

t Well , we know the same , jus man and blind ? And you , my lads

Pa rui None better , g Dall ; morning and night , in the moon and in the full white day ! ”

Then Of Castle Dark is my story . Is the

o n ? e cruisie alight the rafter More p ats ,

on e on . little , the fire Once upon a time Castle Dark was a place o You f gentility and stirring days . have

it — o u heard , y know it ; now it is like a 2 6 2 Ca stl e D r a h.

’ deer s skull in Wood Mamore , empty , eye

u less , so nding to the whistling wind , but blackened instead Of bleached in the thresh ing rains . When the day shines and the sun coaxes the drowsy mists from the levels by the river, that noble house that was brisks

- O f up and grey whitens , minding maybe merry — times the softest smirr of rain and the scowl

to - comes corbie stone and gable ; black , black grow the stones of Old ancient Castle Dark !

’ on e m endail to Little , , put the door , and the sneck down .

“ ou P aru i ou True for y , g Dall ; y know the place as if you had seen it .

P aru i With eyes g Dall has never seen it .

But my friends tell me what they know , and b eyond I have learned Of myself. Up the

- to river side , many a time I pass the place

- and over its low dykes , dry stone , broken and crumbling to the heel . The moss is soft on

so the little roads , so narrow and without end , winding round the land ; the nettle cocks

2 6 a stl e D a r 4 C h .

hollowness Of the house rumbling with pains,

ca bar - racked at and corner stone , the thought

n and the song gone clean away . There is o

n ot m of window , then , that has a co plaint

own n o - n o n o its ; loop hole , vent , grassy chimney that the blind fe llow cannot hear the

’ pipe of. Straight into the heart s core Of

Castle Dark looks the sun ; the deep tolbooth

Of the old reivers and the bed - chamber of the maid are Open wide to the night and to the star !

“ Ochan ! ochan !

You that only ken the castle in common

’ day or night and plain man s weather have but little notion Of its wonders . It was there , and black and hollow , ere ever you

or P aru i T were born , g Dall . o see Castle

Dark on e must take the Blue Barge and ven

n ture o two trips .

“ The Blue Barge , just man ?

bir linn horm That same . The g , the galley

Of fairy Lorn . It lies in the sunlight on the a stl D a r 2 6 C e h . 5

b a or y , the moonlight in certain weathers , and twelve Of the handsomest sit on the s d eats with the oars in their han s , the red

- shirt bulging over the kilt belt . At the

of stern the barge is the chair Of the visitor .

’ or Gentle semple , tis the same boat and

for crew, and the same cushioned chair , all that make the jaunt to Castle Dark . My story is Of two trips a man made by Barge

Blue up the river to the white st airs .

He roved round the Lowlands road on a fine s out on ummer day , and the sands among the running salt threads of ebb tide . Among the o n shells , his eyes (as it might be) fell

to the the castle , and he had a notion make trip to it by a new road . Loudly he piped to sea . If loudly he piped , keen was the

r hearing, for yonder came the galley Of fai y

- r Lorn , the twelve red shirts swinging mer y at c ars the and chanting a Skye iorram.

’ ” Here s an exp l oit l said the man of my

“ ’ s . on or e tory There s dignity in y craft , l ss 2 66 Ca stl e D a r h.

than red - shirts was the wearing Of the scamps

” who row her . The loch curled like a feather before her

r and f othed far behind , and soon her nose

on . N o ran high the sand word was said , but the first pair of rowers let out a carved

of plank, and the fellow my story went over it and behind to the chair with the cushioned seat .

“ To the castle ? asked the captain (as it

of on e who might be) , in the way speaks a ” master , and Adventurer said , Castle be it .

b OE The arge was pushed the sand , the

on oars fell the water, and she curved into

- the river mouth .

When Adventurer reached the bridge, it was

of before the time war , and the country from

to . end end sat quiet , free , and honest Our folks lived the clean out - b y life Of shepherds

. b ill s and early risers Round these , the woods —the big green woods—were trembling with b t o ird and beast , and the w glens were

2 68 Ca stl e D a r h. he trailed white fingers over the low side of

the boat , the tide warm like new milk . Under the long ar ch he held up his head and whooped gaily , like the boy he was in another dream , and M ac tall a mh laughed back from behind the smell Of lime - drop and cr otal hanging to

s u n on the stones . Then into the again , the m wide flat river , with the fields ping down on to each hand , nodding the lip with rush and flower .

’ ” Faith and here s fortune ! said Ad ven “ f turer . Such a day or sailing and sights was never before . And the Blue Barge met nor stone nor

stay , but ever the twelve fine lads swinging

to cheerily at the oars , till they came the white stairs . O E the boat and up the clanging steps

E ac han went Adventurer as bold as , and the

n bushes waving soft o every side . The gravel — crun c hed to his foot the white round gravel of C a n ty re ; kennelled hounds cried warning a stl e D a r h 6 C . 9

from the ditch - side ; round him were the scenting flowers and the feeling o f the little roads winding so without end all about the garden . ! ” Queer is this said he , feeling the grass e dge with his feet and fingering the leaves .

“ n or Here , surely, is weed nettle , but the trim bush and the swinging rose . The gardeners have been busy in the gardens Of

” Old ancient Castle D ark l

d rawb ri When he came to the ditch , the g T was down . o the warm airs o f the day the

l ow windows , high and , were open ; a look of in - b throng life was over the house , and y some on e plucked angrily at the strings Of a harp . Reek rose laz y and blue over the chimneys , the smell of roasting meats and rich broths hung on the air . U nder a tree got Adventurer and deep in

to thought . And soon the harping came an end . A girl stepped to the bridge and over

to e into the garden . She took the l ft by the 2 0 Castl e D a r h 7 .

’ - butter house and into My Lady s Canter, lined with foreign trees . Along the wide far

to - road came a man meet her , good shaped ,

on in fine clothes , tartan trews fitting close leg and haunch , and a leather j acket held at the middle b y a criosl ach U nder his tree stood Adventurer as they passed back , and close beside him the courtier pushed the hilt of a small - sword to his back and took the woman in his arms .

” e Then if ye must ken , said he , sham “ ” - fac edl to . y, I am for the road morrow

— n ot - The girl ripe and full , over tall , well

r balanced , her hair waved back from ove brown eyes , gathered in a knot and break ing to a curl on the nape Of the neck like a wave on the shell - white shore got hot at

an the skin , and a foot drummed the gravel in ill temper .

“ he For yon silly cause again ? s asked, her lips thinning over her teeth .

” ’ F or the Old cause , said he ; my father s ,

2 2 Ca stl e D a r 7 h.

fo r l ow hard a wee , and biting at his lip in a nervous way . “ “ t o of At night , said he , I speak you

’ - chase and the country side s gossip . We have

our now sometimes neighbours in house as ,

’ old A sk a ig s goodwife and the N un from — m I n isha il a good wo an and pious .

’ Up went the lady s head , and she laughed bitter and long .

r My good husband , she said , in a wea y

ou ou way , y are like all that wear trews ; y have never trained your tracking but to wood

or ou - craft , else y had found the wild kit in

’ ” a woman s heart .

“ ’ ou There s my love , girl , and I think y love

“ ! n ot e Tuts , man I talked Of that . Lov

’ — A sk a i s is love , while it lasts , and ye brag Of g wife and the N un (good Lord l) , and the Old harridans your cousins from Lochow !

’ Tis but a tirrivie Of yours , my dear , said

o n the man , kindly , kissing her the teeth , and Ca stl e D a r 2 h. 7 3

“ TO she with her hands behind her back .

a morrow the s ddle , Sir Claymore , and the ! ’ south country Hark ye , sweet , I ll fetch back the most darling thing woman ever

” d reamt of. “ What might his name be ? asked the

a a n d girl , laughing , but still with bitterness , the two went round to the ditch - brig a n d in - b y .

Adventurer heard the little fine a irs c om

- ing from the west , coiling , full of sap smell , crooning in turret and am ong the gra ssy gable tops, and piping into the empty windows .

’ ’ Twas a summer s end when he went on the next jaunt , a hot night and hung with dripping stars . The loch crawled in from a

of black waste sorrow and strange hills , and

o n swished the shore , trailing among the wreck with the hiss Of fingers throu gh ribbons

c ! of Of silk . My dears , my lears the gloom

’ hidden seas in night a n d l onely pl a c es ! Tis 2 Ca stl e D a r h 74 .

that d a u n ten s me . I will be standing some

’ times a t the night s down - fall over above the

to bay , and hearkening the grinding Of the

on salt wash rock and gravel , and never a sound o f hope or merriment in all that weary

You song . that have seeing may ken the meaning of it ; never for P a ruig Dall but wonder and the heavy heart !

“ ’ ou r s Tis thought a thousand time , just man ; we are the stour that wind and water make the clod of ! You spoke o f a second jaunt ?

As ye say . It was in winter ; and the morning

“ ’ P a rui Winter, said ye , g Dall ? Twas ” summer and night before .

Winter I said , and winter it was , before

a oilteach f , and the edge Of the morning .

of s enl The fellow my g , more than a twelve

to month Older , went the breast wall and

’ cried on Barge Blue that s ever waiting for

’ the sailor who s for sailing on fairy seas .

2 6 astl e D a r h 7 C .

O b arred by j ealou s cl ans . S there they were , drinking the reddest and eating the

—a fattest wanton crew , among them George

M or for , namely women and wine and

- gentlemanly sword play .

They had been at the cartes after supper .

Wine lay on the table in rings and rivers .

The curtains were across the window, and the candles guttered in the sconces . De E b auc hed airs fl a ed abroad in the room .

of At the head the board , with her hair

out of falling the knot , the lady Of the house dovered in her chair , her head against

’ an d George Mor s shoulder , him sleeping T fast with his chin on his vest . wo c om pany girls from the house in the forest

on slept forward the table, their heads on

on the thick Of their arms , and either hand

Of them the lairds and foreigners . Of the company but two were awake , playing at bor d - dubh , small eyed , oozing with drink .

b - - But they slept y and b y like the lave , and Ca stl e D a r 2 h . 7 7 sle ep had a hold of Castle Dark through and through . Adventurer heard the cock crow away at

- the gean tree park .

One Of the girls , stirring in her sleep , touched a glass with her elbow , and it fell

On its side , the dark wine splashing over

to the table , crawling the edge , thudding in heavy drops on the shoe Of the mistress

who Of the house , drew back her foot with out waking . But her moving started up the man at her ear . He looked at her face ,

on an d ot to kissed her the hair , g his feet with n o noise . A sour smile curdled his face when he looked about the room , drunken

- and yellow sick in the guttering candlelight .

he for Stretching himself, made the window an d pul led back the curtain .

The mountain looked in on the wastrel c ompany , with a black and blaming scowl — h m t e ountain set in blackness at the foot , b u t its brow tou c hing the first Of a cold day . 2 l e D a r 7 8 Ca st h .

Tree and bush stood like wraiths all about the garden , the river cried high and snell . George Mor turned and looked at the room and its sleeping company like corpses propped in chairs , in the light Of candle and daybreak . The smell Of the drunken chamber fogged at the back of his throat . He laughed in a

of kind bitter way , the lace shaking at his neck

- : and wrist bands then his humour changed , and he rued the night and his merry life .

I wish I was yont this cursed country,

’ said he to himself, shivering with cold . Tis these folk lead me a pretty spring, and had

George Mor better luck of his company he

— — ’ was a decent man . And yet and yet who s George Mor to be better than his neighbours ?

fi r - As gr ow the trees , some Of them crooked

Of and some them straight , and we are the way the winds would have us ! ”

He was standing in the window yet , deep

’ r in the morning s g ief, running his fingers among his curls .

a tl e D r 2 80 C s a h .

of her , and I have small skill entertainment ; b u t of , man , I thought her Often , away in the camp ! ”

OE He was taking his j acket as he spoke , and looking past George Mor ’s shoulder and

n o in between the trees at the loch . And w the

o r day was fairly n the count y . — I ’m A bit foolish is your wife j ust a girl , not denying ; but tru e at the core .

“ ’ a s ! Young , young, ye say , man She ll make , maybe , all the more taking a widow

’ woman . She ll need looks and gaiety indeed , for for my poor cause is lost good and all .

“ for ou We saved the castle y , at any rate .

But for my friends in - by and myself the flam

’ ” beau was at the root O t .

“ S O h ? , my ero I n another key I might be having a glass with you over such friend

’ our ship , but the day spreads and here s business before us .

“ ’ ’ ’ for I ve small stomach this . It s a fool s

” quarrel . Castl e D a r 2 8 1 h .

Thoir an aire l — M or ! Guard , George

o n They fought warmly the mossy grass , an d the tinkle Of the thin blades set the birds chirping in the bushes , but it could not be that that wakened my lady dovering in her

u chair in the room Of g ttering candles . d She started up in a ream , and found George

Mor gone , and the mark Of muddy brogues near the door fitted in with her dream . She wakened none Of her drugged company , but hurried to the garden and in between the foreign trees to the summons of the playing swords . “ ! Stop , stop , husband she cried before she saw who was at the fighting ; but only

M or b e half George heard , and turned his head .

was She a little late . Her man , with a

to a forefinger, was feeling the way the scabb rd , and a gout Of blood was gathering at the

ot point Of his sword , when she g through the trees . 2 a stl e D a r 8 2 C h .

Madame , said he , cool enough but short in the breath , and bloody a little at the

“ ’ mouth , here s your gallant . He had maybe

’ skill at diversion , but I ve seen better at the

- - n - small sword . TO night my u friends are

’ coming back to harry Castle Dark , and I m

a in little humour to stop them . F re ye weel !

’ A blash of rain threshed in Adventurer s face ; the tide crept at his feet , the fall Of the oars on Barge Blue sank low and travelled

E . far o . It was the broad day Over above the river, Castle Dark grew black , but the fellow of my story c ould n ot see it .

P aru i e And the woman , g Dall What cam of the woman

on e . 8 0 ! Another peat on the fire , little

That the fellow of my story would need

the another trip to see . But Barge Blue is

for or low m ferry all , high tide , in the cal and in the storm .

2 8 Ga el ic Gl ossa r 4 y .

- Cl achn ea r t u n s on e . , p tti g t

Cl a r sa ch a . , h rp

' - Cothr om n a F ezn n e the a a of F n ne man to man . , f ir pl y i ;

'

Cr zosl a ch e d e . , b lt, gir l ’ Cr oma a s e e d s c oo . g , h ph r r k l Cr ota c n . , li he ’ Cr u n l u a a h a mo em en in n . Cr u n l u a dh b r ea ba ch , v t pipi g ,

a s m a e m o em en . Cr u n l zca dh m a ch the u c es rt r v t , q i k t

part of a p iob a ir eac hd . ’ é God D id God . D hio l idh sin n Go D h / O , g e . d keep u s !

D or ta ch a n a s ac . , k p k

gen tleman .

E as a e a or ca a a c . , w t rf ll t r t

' a z a ch h s o s a son O s m a a h n F o l te , t e h rt e f tor y d ys t t e e d

O f ! an u ary .

F ea d a n the c han or e on w c e s ac s , ter pip hi h pip r pr ti e

t un es b efore pla yi n g th em on the bagpipes .

F u a r a a s - u d in a m x u e of oa mea and c o g , h ty p d g, i t r t l ld

a e or oa m ea an d m o r c eam. w t r, t l ilk r

a ac h - m a d en in s c as e Gr u a sea . g , i thi ’ f l a d ! a s ! 1 11 e . l d

'

a z r ea e. I ol , gl

m - I r a a oa son . or , b t g

' La ocha zn h ero c omrad e

La a h s e of a u n ed u n . r c , it r i b ildi g

L on d zchh ac . , bl kbird a l a chd or t ’ m a e c on on ee ! M l . l di ti th

M a r a - dha bh a a c u n m a e oo an d g , bl k p ddi g , d with bl d s uc h

’ a d a il m a n m ea su e. M c , y d rli g, y tr r ' ” tha ir n a w M a M o r M hozr e M ha , a , ry the . h ’ m ea 1 M o chr id e . y h rt ’ m o thr n a z h . a a s trou e M g l , y bl Ga el ic Gl os a r 2 8 s y . 5

’ ' o ha n cha n och ’ o ho n i e l ocha n or z / x m Och ! c ! o . t e e c la a

' O r o ! h a D ht ’ i n zs ’ on s s o a a s Oc . s ad e . ti f r w , l

' ' ’ ‘ E z r z ch ez r zch Rob — God ! on d i w ‘ , , O y er it s n o

R is s e Rob ! e, ri ,

'

z nsea ch a m a e oo . O , fe l f l

P iota ir ea chd the s m on of a mu c s ua a , y ph y b gpipe s i , u lly am en s a u e o r a erin l t, l t , g th g

' - P z ob mhor the ea H an a . , gr t ighl d b gpipe

S ea n a n an an t . g ,

m e m - S a l a a a a se an . g g , l f r rv t

S eu l a a e n a a e . g , t l , rr tiv ' ’ a n - d u hh ac n e o n in the H h an d e s n , bl k k if , w r ig l r

s toc k in g .

'

r eachd a s h. n , p ri

' S zod e th ere it is l

l r o of h i ir a a e t ob ea chd m us c . S tu b/c , ll g e p a i

hd - a - chu ba ir u b r a h ’ the a in c r of the Old S Ioc g g . r lly g y

In n era ora u e s Sl o chd - a - c hub a ir for e e b rgh r , v r ! S a a d ’ er e he is ! S o h ere o g e . h

- S d a chd c u oo e a a d at a n . p g , l b f t d, wkw r w lki g

S r d d h c a e O all so s a d o e . fi , ttl f rt , r v S ta d ! stOp ! ! S u a s 43 up with it A term of en c ourag e men t .

’ - Ta zbhsea r a s on a on e sec on s . , vi i ry with d ight

’ Tha szbh a n so you are h ere Thair a n a im ! b eware lo ok out

Uisea the S a r . g , kyl k r l a r the ou n d - wo ad a o or s m e m e od of a U , gr rk, gi , i pl l y

p iob aireac hd . P r in ted t n Gi ca t B TLtCl t n by W L L KWU U D D N I L I A M B A C A N SO S .

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