CHAPTER V.--A HIGHLAND BLIZZARD--THE LOST SHEEP AND SHEPHERD.
It must not be supposed for a single moment that although the boysM'Vayne liked fun and adventure in their own wild land, just as you or Ior any other boys do, reader, their education was neglected. Quite thereverse, in fact. For at the time our tale commences, both had justreturned from the High School of Edinburgh, where they had studied withhonour, and carried off many prizes.
One of Duncan's pet studies had been and still was--navigation. Notonly of a theoretical kind, but thoroughly practical.
He had long since made up his mind to become a sailor, and he had leftno stone unturned to learn the noble art of seamanship.
For this purpose he had prevailed upon his father to let him takeseveral cruises in a barque plying between Leith and Hull. So earnestwas Duncan, and so willing was both skipper and mate of this craft toteach him, that in a very short time he was not only up to every ropeand stay, but could take both the latitude and longitude as well ascould be desired.
He did all he could to put his brother up to the ropes also.
They were very fond of each other, these two lads, and it was theearnest desire of both that they should not be parted.
Well, all the stories they read were of the "ocean wild and wide", andall the poetry they loved had the sound of the sea in it.
Such poetry and such tales Duncan would often read to his brother andwinsome wee Florie sitting high on a hilltop, perhaps, on some finesummer's day with the great Atlantic spreading away and away from theshore beneath them to the distant horizon.
Dibdin's splendid and racy songs, redolent as they are of the brine andthe breeze, were great favourites.
But I do think there is a thread of romance in the life of every sailor.Nay, more, I believe that it is this very romance that first inducesyoung fellows to tempt the billows, although they are but little likelyto find a life on the ocean wave quite all that their fancy painted.Talking personally, I am of opinion that it was _Tom Cringle's Log_ thatfirst gave me an idea of going to sea. Well, I do not regret it.
Byron's _Corsair_ was a great favourite with the boys. Indeed, I ratherthink that they both would have liked to become corsairs or dashingpirates. And little Flora would gladly have gone with them.
"Heigho!" she sighed one day when Duncan had closed the book. "Heigho!I wish I had been a boy. I think it was very foolish of the Good Man tomake me a girl, when he knew well enough I wanted to be a boy."
The poor child did not know how irreverent was such talk.
Honest Vike used to lie by Duncan's side while he was reading, with onehuge heavy paw placed over the boy's knee.
But it must have been monotonous for him; and often his head fell on theextended foot, and he went off to sleep outright.
No sooner was the reading ended, however, than Vike awoke, as full oflife as a spring-born kitten. Then his game began. He used to loosen ahuge boulder and send it rolling down the hill. As it gained force, itsplit up into twenty pieces or more, and bombarded everything it cameacross. Vike just stood and barked. But once, when a flying piece ofthe boulder killed a hare, the noble Newfoundland dashed down the hillat tremendous speed, and seized his quarry.
He came slowly up with it, and laid it solemnly down at Duncan's feet.
This was all very well; but one day, when the boys and Flora sat downabout half-way up a hill, Viking, tired of the reading, found his way tothe hilltop, and, as usual, loosened a boulder, and started it.
Thump, thump, rattle, rattle, rush! Fully a dozen great stones camedown on our heroes in a cloud of dust, and with the force of anavalanche. The danger was certainly great, but it was all over beforethey could fully realize it.
Duncan hastily drew his whistle, and at its call the innocent doginstantly ceased working at another boulder he was busily engagedloosening, and came galloping down the hill.
Poor fellow! I dare say he deserved a scolding, but so full of life andhappiness was he, that Duncan had not the heart to speak harshly to him.Only care was taken after this that Vike never got higher up the hillthan the reading party.
Frank had been nearly three weeks at Glenvoie, before he becameinitiated into the mysteries of a real Highland snow-storm. Many of myreaders have doubtless been out in such a blizzard, but the majorityhave not, and can have but little idea of the fierceness and danger ofit.
The morning of the 10th of February, 18--, was mild and beautiful. BothDuncan and his brother had been early astir, and had taken their bathlong before sunrise.
They went downstairs on tiptoe, as they had no desire to awake theirguest.
"English boys need a lot of sleep," said Conal. "They're not like you orme, Duncan."
"N-no," said his brother; "but I could have done with another hourmyself to-day. But we are Scotsmen, and must show an example. Noblesseoblige. Well," he added, "we'll have time to run up the hill anyhow, andsee the sun rise."
So off they went, Vike making all the rocks and braes resound with hisbarking.
It was, indeed, a glorious and beautiful morning, and from theirelevated situation they could see all the wild and romantic country onevery side of them, for daylight was already broadening in the east. Tothe west the gray Atlantic ocean, the horizon buried in mist, away tothe south woods and forests. Forests to the north also, while behindthem hills on hills successive rose.
But the eastern sky was already aglow with clouds of crimson fire andgold. What artist could paint, what poet describe, such glory?
Then low towards a wood shines forth a brighter, more fiery gleam thanall, and even at this distance the boys can see the branches, aye, andeven the twigs, of the trees silhouetted against it.
And that is the sun itself struggling up behind the radiant clouds.
They stayed but little longer, for by this time breakfast would beready, and Frank himself getting up.
After this meal was discussed, as a light breeze, sufficient to ripplethe stream, had sprung up, the young folks determined to go fishing.
They took luncheon with them, and spent the whole forenoon on the banksof the bonnie wimpling burn.
But so well engaged were they that they did not at first observe thatthe sky was becoming rapidly overcast, and that the wind had begun towail and moan in the trees of the adjoining forest. It had turnedterribly cold too.
Duncan became fully alive to his danger now, however, especially whenthe tiny millet-seed snow began to fall.
"Our nearest way is through the wood," said the boy. Duncan was alwayspioneer in every danger and in every pleasure.
"And there is no time to lose," he added. "Florie, I wish you hadn'tcome. I suppose Conal and I will have to carry you."
"I won't be carried," replied the stout-hearted little Scots maiden. "Idaresay you think I'm a child."
Fishing-tackle was by this time made up, and off they started.
It was terribly dark and gloomy under the great black-foliagedpine-trees, but Duncan knew every foot of the way.
They got through the forest, and out on to the wide moorland, just asthe snow began to fall in earnest.
This moor was for the most part covered with heather, with broom andwith whins, but dotted over with Scottish pine-trees. These last hadbeen planted, or rather sown, by the rooks, for the black corbies turnmany a heathery upland in Scotland into waving woods or forests. Theybear the cones away to pick the seeds therefrom on the quiet moors.Some of these seeds are dropped, and in a short time trees spring up.
Duncan now took from his pocket a small compass, and studied it for amoment.
"We sha'n't be able to see the length of a fishing-rod before us soon,"he said. "Now, I propose steering due south till we strike the old turfdike[1] that leads across the mountains. By following this downwards wewill be guided straight to the pine-wood rookery behind our house."
[] Dike (_Scottice_), a low fence of stone or turf.
They commenced to struggle on now in earnest--I might almost say fo
rdear life's sake--for wilder and wilder blew the blizzard, increasing inforce every minute, and thicker fell the snow. But I was wrong insaying it fell, for it was carried horizontally along on the wings ofthe wind. Not a flake would lie on the hills or bare slopes, but everydingle and dell and gully, and every rock-side facing westward, wasfilled and blocked.
Duncan held Flora firmly by the hand, for if she got out of sight inthis choking drift, even for a few seconds, her fate would, in allprobability, be that of sweet Lucy Gray--she might ne'er be seen aliveagain.
Frank and Conal were arm-in-arm, their heads well down as they struggledon and on.
"Let us keep well together, boys," cried Duncan, as he looked at hislittle compass once again. "Cheerily does it, as sailors say."
Now and then they stopped for breath when they came to a clump of pines.
Here the noise of the wind overhead was terrific. At its lightest it wasprecisely like the roar of a great waterfall. But ever and anon itwould come on in furious squalls, that had in them all the force of ahurricane, which swept the tree-tops straight out to one side and benttheir giant stems as if they had been but fishing-rods. At every gustsuch as this the flakes were broken into ice-dust, with a suffocatingsnow fog that, had they not buried their faces in their plaids, wouldhave choked the party one and all.
Many of these pines were carried away by the board, snapped near to theground, and hurled earthwards with the force of the blast.
Long before they reached the fence of turf, called in Scotland, as Ihave said, a dike, Flora was completely exhausted, and had to submit tobe carried on Duncan's sturdy back.
Frank was but little better off, but he would not give in.
At last they reached the dike.
"Heaven be praised!" cried Duncan. "And now we shall rest just a shorttime and then start on and down. Cheer up, lads, we will manage now."
Flora descended from her brother's back, and he sat down on the turf,and took her on his knee.
But where was Vike?
Surely he had not deserted them!
No, for a dog of this breed is faithful unto death.
But now a strange kind of somnolence began to take possession of theboys.
Duncan himself could not resist its power, far less his companions.
"Let us be going, lads," he cried more than once, but he did not move.
He seemed to be unable to lift a limb, and at last he heard the howlingof the wind only like sunlit waves breaking on a far-off sandy beach.
He nodded--his chin fell on his breast--he was dreaming.
Ah! but it is from a sleep like this that men, overtaken in asnow-storm, never, never arise. They simply
"Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking".
In a few minutes, however, Duncan starts. The sound of a dog's voicefalls on his ear. Ah! there is no bark in all broad Scotland sosonorous and so sincere as that of honest Vike.
Wowff! Wowff! Wowff!!
There is joy in it, too, for he has found the boys--ah! more than that,he has brought relief, and here are the sturdy kilted keeper and twofarm hands, ready to help them safely home. The keeper has a flask, andall must taste--even Florie, who is hardly yet awake.
How pleasant looked the fire in the fine old dining-hall when, afterdressing, the boys came below.
And Glenvoie himself was laughing now, and as he shook Frank's hand, hecould not help saying:
"Well, my lad, and how do you like a Highland snow-storm?"
"Ah!" said Frank, laughing in turn, "a little of it goes a long way. Idon't want any more Highland snow-storm, thank you--not for Frank!"
The gale seemed to be increasing rather than abating, and it kept on allthat night, and for two nights and two days more.
Then it fell calm.
"I trust in Heaven," said M'Vayne, "that Sandie, our shepherd, hasreached the shelter of some hut, but I fear the worst. The sheep may beburied, but they will survive; but without food poor Sandie cannot havewithstood the brunt of that awful blizzard.
"Boys," he continued, "I shall start at once on a search, and the keeperwill come with me."
"And we too."
"Wowff! wowff!" barked Vike, as much as to say, "You'd be poorly offwithout my assistance."
It was a lovely forenoon now, with a clear sky, but not as much wind aswould suffice to lift one feathery flake.
They meant to find the shepherd, but it was his hard-frozen corpse theyexpected to dig out of a snow-drift.