158

HIS PERILOUS PREDICAMENT.

subsided-my stamack gied ower bockin—and takin my seat on a settee, I began to inspect the premises wi' mair preceesion, to mak a verbal inventory o' the furnitur, and to study the appearance or character o' the twa guests that still continued lyin back on their backs, and regardin me wi' a malignity that was fearsome, but noo baith mute as death.

for

my

North. They had made up their minds to be murdered. Shepherd. I suspect it was the ither way. A' on a sudden doun comes a sugh frae the sky-and as if borne each on a whurlwund-the yell and the glare o' the twa auld birds! A mortal man daurin to invade their nest! And they dashed at me as if they wad hae dung me intil the rock back was at the wa'-—and I was haudin on wi' my hauns—and aff wi' my feet frae the edge o' the ledge-and at every buffet I, like an inseck, clang closer to the cliff. Dazed wi' that incessant passin to and fro o' plumes, and pennons, and beaks, and talons, rushin and rustlin and yellin, I shut my een, and gied mysel up for lost; when a' at ance a thocht struck me that I would coup the twa imps ower the brink, and that the parent birds would dive doun after them to the bottom o' the abyss. Tickler. What presence of mind!

North. Genius!

Shepherd. I flang mysel on them-and I hear them yet in the gullerals. They were eatin intil my inside; and startin up wi' a' their beaks and a' their talons inserted, I flang aff my coat and waistcoat, and them stickin till't, ower the precipice!

Tickler. Whew!

Shepherd. Ay-ye may weel cry whew! Dreadfu' was the yellin, for ae glaff and ae glint; far doun it deadened; and then I heard nocht. After a while I had courage to lay mysel doun on my belly, and look ower the brink—and I saw the twa auld eagles wheelin and skimmin, and dashin amang the white breakers o' the black loch, madly seekin to save the drownin demons, but their talons were sae entangled in the tartan, that after floatin awhile wi' flappin wings in vain, they gied ower strugglin, and the wreck drifted towards the shore wi' their dead bodies.

Tickler. Pray, may I ask, my dear Shepherd, how you returned to the top?

Shepherd. There cam the rub, sirs. My freens aboon, 1 Ae glaff and ae glint-one glimpse and one flash.

THE MURDER OF THE EAGLETS.

159

seeing my claes, wi' the eaglets flaffin, awa doun the abyss, never doubted that I was in them-and they set up sic a shriek! Awa roun' they set to turn the richt flank o' the precipice by the level of the Aven that rins out sae yellow frae the dark-green loch, because o' the colour o' the blue slates that lie shivered in heaps o' strata in that lovely solitudehardly howpin to be able to yield me ony assistance, in case they should observe me attemptin to soom ashore-nor yet to recover the body gin I was drooned. Silly creturs! there was I for hours on the platform, while they were waitin for my corp to come ashore. At last, ashore cam what they supposed to be my corp, and stickin till't the twa dead eaglets, and dashin doun upon't, even when it had reached the shingle, the twa savage screamers wi' een o' lichtnin!

Tickler. We can conjecture their disappointment, James, on finding there was no corpse.

Shepherd. I shouted- but natur's self seemed deaf; I waved my bannet-but natur's self seemed blind. There stood the great deaf, blind, stupid mountains-and a' that I could hear was ance a laigh echo-like lauchter frae the airn heart o' Cairngorm.

Tickler. At last they recognised the Mountain Bard?

Shepherd. And awa they set again to the tap to pu' me up; but the fules in their fricht had let the rape drap, and never thocht o' lookin for't when they were below. By this time it was wearin late, and the huge shadows were stalkin in for the nicht. The twa auld eagles cam back, but sae changed, I couldna help pityin them, for they had seen the feathers o' them they looed sae weel wrapt up, a' drookit wi' death, in men's plaids-and as they keepit sailin slowly and disconsolately before the eyrie in which there was naebody sittin but me, they werena like the same birds!

North. No bird has stronger feelings than the eagle.
Shepherd. That's a truth. They lay but twa eggs.
North. You are wrong there, James.

Shepherd. Twa young ones, then, is the average; for gin they lay mair eggs, ane's aften rotten, and I'm mistaen if ae eagle's no nearer the usual number than fowre for an eyrie to send forth to the sky. Then they marry for life—and their annual families being sma', they concentrate on a single sinner or twa, or three at the maist, a' the passion o' their instinck, and savage though they be, they fauld their wide

160

THE SHEPHERD'S REMORSE-HIS RESCUE.

wings ower the down in their "procreant cradle" on the cliff, as tenderly as turtle-doves on theirs, within the shadow o' the tree. For beautiful is the gracious order o' natur, sirs, and we maunna think that the mystery o' life hasna its ain virtues in the den o' the wild beast and the nest o' the

bird o' prey.

Tickler. And did not remorse smite you, James, for the murder of those eaglets?

Shepherd. Aften, and sair. What business had I to be let doun by a hair-rape intil their birthplace? And, alas! how was I to be gotten up again-for nae hair-rape cam danglin atween me and the darkenin weather-gleam. I began to dout the efficacy of a deathbed repentance, as I tried to tak account o' my sins a' risin up in sair confusion—some that I had clean forgotten, they had been committed sae far back in youth, and never suspected at the time to be sins ava, but noo seemin black, and no easy to be forgiven-though boundless be the mercy that sits in the skies. But, thank Heaven, there was an end-for a while at least-o' remorse and repentance and room in my heart only for gratitude-for, as if let doun by hands o' angels, there again dangled the hair-rape wi' a noose-seat at the end o't, safer than a wickerchair. I stept in as fearless as Lunardi, and wi' my hauns aboon my head glued to the tether and my hurdies, and a' aneath my hurdies, interlaced wi' a netwark o' loops and knots, I felt mysel ascendin and ascendin the wa's, till I heard the voices o' them hoistin. Landed at the tap, you may be sure I fell doun on my knees and while my heart was beginnin to beat and loup again, quaked a prayer.

North. Thank ye, James. I have heard you tell the tale better and not so well, but never before at a Noctes. Another tureen?

Shepherd. Na. Tibbie? The fish. (Enter TIBBIE with a fish.) You see, sirs, I wasna leein about the sawmon. It cam up in the seat o' the gig. Tibbie was for cuttin't into twa cuts, but I like to see a sawmon served up in his integrity

Tickler. And each slice should run from gill to tail.

Shepherd. Alang the shouthers and the back and the line, in that latitude, for the thick; and alang the side and the belly and the line, in that latitude, for the thin; but nae short-curd till in the mouth; and as for helpin yersel wi' a

A SALMON.-FLYING A KITE.

161

fork and a bit breid-that's like some silly conceit o' a spiled wean—and I am sure there's naebody here sae bairnly's to fear cuttin their mouth wi' a knife. The kyeanne pepperthe mustard-the vinegar-the catshop-the Hervey sassthe yest-and the chovies! Thank ye, Dolly, ma dear. Mair butter, Tickler. North-put the mashed potawtoes on the pairt o' my plate near the saut-and the round anes a bit ayont. Tappy-the breid; and meanwhile, afore yokin to our sawmon, what say ye, sirs, to a bottle o' porter?

[Three shots are heard-and three silver jugs, foam-
crowned, are duly administered and drained.

North. I forget, James, the weight of this fish?
Shepherd. Twunty pund.

North. We shall scarcely get through it—I fear—at one sitting.

Tickler. I begin to see the ribs and spine of the side to windward—but remember our friends in waiting

Shepherd. What, sirs, could induce ye to tak so mony gillies to the hill?

North. At this season, you know, James, the birds are wild, and we should have had no sport without markers. We distributed our forces judiciously along the heights, and kept moving in a circle of scouts-that always commanded a wide prospect. The birds finding themselves outwitted on their widest flights, lost courage, and resorted to close-sitting-nor had we occasion half-a-dozen times the whole day to fly the kite.

Shepherd. What's that?

North. Ambrose, I believe, who, you know, is a Yorkshireman, was the first to introduce the kite into the Forest. He is constructed of paper, like the common kite, such as you see flying over cities; but more bird-like, both in form and colour, and Ambrose has painted him so cunningly, that but for his length of tail, which is necessary to keep him steady, you would not scruple to take a shot at him for a glead. King Pepin and Sir David Gam work him to windward with much judgment by the invisible string; and he looks so formidable on the hover, now turning and now stooping, as if instinct with spirit, that as long as he is aloft, not even the boldest old black-cock of Thirlestane will dare to lift his head above the rushes or the heather. By a signal he is brought to anchor

VOL. IV.

L

162

A PROTEST AGAINST POACHING.

-CHAMPAGNE.

Haco and Harold trot in-while all the dogs are backing one another-whirr-whirr-slap-bang-and thud after thudright and left-from four blazing barrels-tumble the three and four pounders, to the delight of Tappytoorie, who fastens on them like a weasel.

Shepherd. I ca' that poachin. It's waur nor the real leevin ggem-hawk-for the kivey hae to contend wi' pouther and lead, forbye that pented deevil in the air-and half-dead wi' fricht, hoo can it be expeckit that a single ane'll be able to mak his escape? We'll be hearin o' you usin the net neist, alang wi' the broon-paper pented Yorkshire kite o' Awmrose. Confoun' me, but the verra first time I catch him beatin to windward, gin I dinna fire at him, and bring him waverin doun, broken-backed, wi' his lang tail amang the rashes.

Tickler. What say you, Shepherd, to a glass of champagne? Shepherd. That the best o't 's about equal to middlin sma' yill.

Tickler. National prejudice. Tibbie ?

[TIBBIE fills each man's longshank with a shower of dia

monds.

Shepherd. Na, but that is prime-na, but that is maist delishous-only it's a shame to drink outlandish liquors at halfa-guinea a bottle, when you can get the best maut whusky for less nor twa shillins. It's the duty.

North. You need not make yourself uneasy about the price, James, for I can afford it.

Shepherd. It's weel for you, sir.

North. Prime cost, James-corks included-is sixpence abottle; and now, sir, you have tasted TIBBIE'S GREEN GROZET' ST MARY, what are the vine-covered hills and gay regions of France to the small, yellow, hairy gooseberry-gardens of your own Forest!

2

Shepherd. I'll no draw back frae what I said in commendation o't, but a' hame-made wines, and maist foreign anes, are apt to gie me a pain in the stamack, and therefore if ye be wiçe, sirs, you'll join me in a caulker o' the cretur by way o' sedative. I ken you deal wi' my freen Richardson o' Selkirk, and there's no purer speerit than Richardson's best in a' the south-for it's a composition o' a' the prime whuskys he can collect, mixed up in due proportions, accordin to the relative 1 Grozet-gooseberry. 2 Wiçe -wise.