CHAPTER II.

  GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE.

  So after that we played yet another game, hiding together in the hagsand crawling from bent bush to rush clump with mighty caution anddiscernment, making believe that the troopers sought us both. For thiswas the favourite bairns' play everywhere in the West and South.

  Once when we came near to the house Gay Garland followed us, having beenturned out on the Duchrae home park. He ran to me, as he ever did, forfarings, and I fed him with crumblings out of my jacketpocket--"moolings" Maisie Lennox called them--which he ate out of myhand, a pretty thing to see in so noble a beast. Then he followed usabout in our hidings, begging and sorning upon us for more. This madehim not a little troublesome, till we would gladly have sent him back.But Gay Garland was a beast not easily turned.

  After a while we came to the little wood of Mount Pleasant, where I sawsome red rags fluttering on a bush. I was for going aside to see whatthey might be, but Maisie Lennox cried at me to turn back.

  "There are people hereabouts that are not very chancy. My father saw theMarshalls go by this morning!"

  Often and often I had heard of the tribe before, and they had a singularname for their ill-done deeds. Indeed the whole land was so overrun withbeggars of the Strong Hand, and the times so unsettled, that nothingcould be done to put a stop to their spoilings. For the King and his menwere too busy riding down poor folk that carried Bibles and went tofield-preachings, to pay attention to such as merely invaded homesteadsand lifted gear.

  As we set breast to the brae and came to the top of the little hill, Istumbled over something white and soft lying behind a heather bush. Itwas a sheep--dead, and with much of it rent and carried away. The groundabout was all a-lapper with blood.

  "A worrying dog has done this!" I said.

  But Maisie Lennox came up, and as she caught sight of the carcase herface fell. She shook her head mighty seriously.

  "Two-footed dogs," she said. "See here!" She lifted a piece of paper onwhich a bloody knife had been wiped. And she showed me, very wisely, howthe best parts had been cut away by some one that had skill indismemberment.

  "'Tis Jock Marshall's band," she said; "an ill lot, but they shall notget off with this!"

  And she went forward eagerly, keeping on the broad trail through thegrass. We had not gone a hundred yards when we came upon another sheepin like case, and then by the ford of the Black Water we found yetanother. I asked Maisie Lennox if we should not go home and lodgeinformation.

  "They'll get ower far away," was all she said.

  "But you are not feared of them?" I asked, marvelling at the lassie. Foreven our Sandy that counted himself so bold, and could lift a bullockslung in a sheet with his teeth, would have thought twice beforefollowing up Jock Marshall and his band for the sake of an orra sheep ortwo.

  But Maisie Lennox only turned to me in a curious way, in which thereseemed mingled something of contempt.

  "Feared!" she said. "What for should I be feared? The sheep are myfaither's; but gang you back gin ye be feared."

  So for very shame I answered that I was feared none--which was a greatlie, for I had given a hundred pounds (Scots) to have been able to turnback with some credit. But we went along the broad trail boldly enough,and Gay Garland trotted loose-foot after us, sometimes stopping to cropthe herbs by the way, and anon coming dancing to find us. At which I wasglad, for it was at least some company besides the lassie.

  Soon we came to a link of the path by the water-side, at a place that iscalled the Tinklers' Loup, where these sorners and limmers were mostlywont to congregate. There was blue smoke rising behind the knowe, andMaisie Lennox took a straight path over the heather toward it. Iwondered to see the lass. She seemed indeed not to know fear.

  "They are my faither's ain sheep," she said, as though that weresufficient explanation.

  So to the top we came, and looked down. There was a whole camp beneathus. Dirty low reeky tans were set here and there amid a swarm of bairnsand dogs. The children were running naked as they were born, and thedogs turning themselves into hoops to bite their tails. About a coupleof fires with pots a-swing over them, bubbling and steaming, littleclouds of wild-looking folk were gathered. Some had bones in their handswhich they thrust into the fire for a minute and then took out again tognaw at the burned portion. Tattered women looked within the pots. Oncea man threw a knife at a boy, which struck him on the side. The boycried out and the blood ran down, but none took any heed to hiscomplaint or of the circumstance.

  For a moment Maisie Lennox stood still and looked at me. Then she went astep or two forward, and her face was white and angered. I saw she wasabout to speak to them, yet for my life I could not keep her from it.

  "Sheep stealers!" she cried; "vagabonds, ye shall hang for this! Not fornaught shall ye harry an honest man's sheep. I ken you, Jock Marshalland all your crew. The Shirra shall hear of this before the morrow'smorn!"

  The encampment stood still at gaze looking up at us, fixed like a showpainted on a screen, while one might slowly count a score. Then Babelbrake loose.

  With a wild rush, man, woman, child, and dog poured towards us. Of mereinstinct I came up abreast of Maisie Lennox. Behind me came Gay Garland,and snuffed over my shoulder, scenting with some suspicion the tinklers'garrons[2] feeding in the hollow below.

  [Footnote 2: Shaggy ponies.]

  We stood so still on the knowe-top that, I think, we must have fearedthem a little. We were by a gap in the bushes, and the ill-doers, seeingno more of us thought, no doubt, that there must be more behind, or twobairns had never been so bold. I think, too, that the very want of armsdaunted them, for they drew back and seemed to consult together asthough uncertain what to do.

  Then a great scant-bearded unkempt man with long swinging arms, whom Itook to be Jock Marshall, the chief tinkler and captain of their gang,pointed to them to scatter round the little knoll, no doubt with thepurpose of making observations and cutting us off.

  "Who may you be?" he cried, looking up at us.

  "Right well you know," Maisie said, very loud and clear, speaking outlike a minister in the tent at a field-preaching; "I am Anton Lennox ofthe Duchrae's daughter, whose sheep ye have boiling in your pots--andthat after being well served with meal at the door, and louting low forthankfulness. And this is your thanks, ye robbers-behind-backs, gallow'sthieves of Kelton Hill."

  On my part I thought it was not good judgment so to anger the wild crew.But Maisie was not to be spoken to at such a time; so perforce I held mytongue.

  "But ye shall all streek a tow for this," she said; "this day's warkshall be heard tell o' yet!"

  By this time the word had been passed round the hill to Jock the tinklerthat there were but two of us, and we unarmed. At which the loon becameat once very bold.

  "Have at them! Blood their throats! Bring the basin!" he cried. And thewords were no vain things, for that was their well-accustomed way ofkilling--to let their victim's blood run into a basin, so that theremight be no tell-tale stains upon the grass.

  So from all sides they came speeling and clambering up the hill, loonsyelling, dogs barking, till I thought my latest hour was come, andwished I had learned my Catechism better--especially the proofs. GayGarland stood by with a raised look upon him, lifting his feet a little,as though going daintily over a bridge whose strength he was not sureof, and drawing all the while the wind upward through his nostrils.

  Then though Maisie had been very bold, I can lay claim on this occasionto having been the wiser, for I caught her by the arm, taking GayGarland's mane firmly with the other hand the while, lest he shouldstartle and flee.

  "Up with you," I cried, bending to take her foot in my hand, and shewent up like a bird.

  In a moment I was beside her, riding bare-back, with Maisie clasping mywaist, as indeed we had often ridden before--though never so perilously,nor yet with such a currish retinue yowling at our tail.

  I wore no weapon upon me--no, not so much as a bodkin. But stuck in myl
eather belt I had the two crooked sticks, which I had blackened withsoot for pistols at our play of Troopers and Wanderers. I put my heelsinto Gay Garland's sides, and he started down-hill, making the turf flyfrom his hoofs as he gathered way and began to feel his legs under him.

  The gang scattered and rounded to close us in, but when Gay Garland cameto his stride, few there were who could overtake him. Only Jock Marshallhimself was in time to meet us face to face, a great knife in eitherhand. And I think he might have done us an injury too, had it not beenfor the nature of the ground where we met.

  It was just at the spring of a little hill and the good horse wasgathering himself for the upstretch. I held the two curved sticks at thetinkler's head, as though they had been pistols, at which I think he wasa little daunted. Jock Marshall stopped in his rush, uncertain whetherto leap aside; and in that very moment, Gay Garland spread his fore-feetfor the spring, throwing up his head as if to clear the way. One of hisiron-shod heels took the tinkler chief fair on the chest, and thebreast-bone gave inwards with a crunch like the breaking of many farlesof cake-bread. He fell down on the moss like one dead, and Gay Garlandwent over the moor with the whole tribe of whooping savages after him,spurning their fallen chief with his hoof as he passed.

  Well it was for us that the noble horse carried us with such ease andthat his feet were so sure. For a stumble in a rabbit hole and ourthroats were as good as slit.

  But by the blessing of Providence and also by my good guiding of GayGarland's mane, we passed the ford of the Black Water without hurt. Thenwas I very croose at the manner of our coming off, and minded not thatthe hardest blaff of downcome is ever gotten at the doorstep.

  We were passing by the path that goes linking along the water-side, andtalking to one another very cantily, when without warning a musketbarked from the woodside, and as it were a red-hot gaud of iron ran intomy thigh behind my knee. The world swayed round me and the green treesran withershins about. I had fallen among the horse's feet, but thatMaisie Lennox caught me, meeting Gay Garland's swerve with the grip ofher knee--for she ever rode across and acrop like a King's horseman,till it was time for her to ride side-saddle and grow mim and prudent.

  Haply just by the turn we met my father and old Anthony Lennox comingrunning at the sound of the shot. But as for me I never saw or heardthem, for they ran past, hot to find the man who had fired at me. Whileas for me I came up the loaning of the Duchrae upon Gay Garland, with myhead leaning back upon the young lassie's shoulder and the red bloodstaining her white skirt.

  And this was the beginning of my lameness and sometime lack ofvigour--the beginning also of my life friendship with Maisie Lennox, whowas to me from that day as my brother and my comrade, though she hadbeen but a bairn's playmate aforetime.