CHAPTER VI.--"THE BREATH OF GOD WAS OVER ALL THE LAND."
There were two huts on the moorland, one in the open, another closeagainst a ridge of rocks, and in one or other poor Sandie would surelyhave found shelter.
So to the first they bent their footsteps. It stood with its back tothe east, and on the west it was entirely covered with great banks ofsnow, some of them shaped like waves on the sea-shore, that are just onthe eve of breaking.
It took the keeper and two men nearly an hour to break through thebarrier and find the doorway.
They could see nothing when they opened it, for all were partiallysnow-blind.
But they groped around, and called the shepherd by name; then convincedthat he was not there, dead or alive, they came sadly away, and joinedthe group outside.
There was still the other hut to be examined, and this was a good milehigher up the hill.
Thither, therefore, the party now wended their way, but so completelycovered up did they find it, that another long hour of hard work wasspent in reaching the doorway.
Like the last which they had explored, it was cold, dark, and deserted.
No one had any hope now of finding Sandie alive, but after a hurriedluncheon they spread themselves out across the hill and moor somewhatafter the fashion of skirmishers, and the ground was thoroughlysearched.
But all in vain.
No frozen corpse was found.
They were about to return now sorrowfully homewards, when high up thehill and at the foot of a semi-lunar patch of rocks--an upheaval thathad taken place probably millions of years ago--Vike was noticed, andhis movements attracted the attention of all.
He was yap-yapping as if in great grief, tearing up the snow at the footof a mighty drift and casting it behind him and over him.
A pure white dog was the Newfoundland at present, so laden was his coatwith the powdery drift.
"Come on, men, come on," cried Glenvoie, "there yet is hope! The gooddog scents something in spite or the snow. It may only be sheep, andyet poor dead frozen Sandie may be amongst them."
It took them but a few minutes to reach the cliff and the huge snowdriftthat covered its western side. It was then that Duncan rememberedsomething about these rocks.
"Why, father," he said, "now that I think of it, this is PrinceCharlie's cave."
"You are right, lad, and my hopes are certainly in the ascendant."
"Conal and I have often been inside, and there is room enough inside toshelter a flock of sheep, or a regiment of soldiers."
"Now then, lads," cried the laird, "work away with a will. I'll takecare you don't lose by it."
He handed them his flask as he spoke, and thus refreshed by the wine oftheir native land, they did work, and with a will too.
But hard work it was, from the fact that the snow was loose and powdery.
But at long, long last they reached the mouth of the cave.
And now a curious spectacle was witnessed, for to the number of at leasta hundred, and headed by a huge curly-horned ram, with a chorus ofbaa-a-ing, out rushed the imprisoned sheep, kicking and leaping with joyto see once more the light of day.
Behind them came the shepherd's bawsont-faced collie Korran. But afterlicking Vike's ear he rushed back once more into the cave, and therescuers quickly lighting a fire with some withered grass, found thebody of the shepherd with Korran standing over it. Was he dead?
That had yet to be seen. They carried him out, and placing him onplaids, began to rub his face with snow and chafe his cold, hard hands.
In less than ten minutes Sandie opened his wondering eyes.
He could swallow now, and a restorative was administered.
I need scarcely say that this restorative was Highland whisky.
After about half an hour Sandie was able not only to eat and talk but towalk.
His story was a very brief one. He had, with the assistance of Korran,driven the sheep into the cave, and never dreaming that he would besnowed up, and remained with them for a time. Alas! it was a long timefor the poor fellow and his faithful dog!
Two days and two nights without food and only snow to keep body and soultogether. And the cold--oh, so intense!
"How did you feel?" asked Frank.
The shepherd hadn't "a much English", as he phrased it, but he answeredas best he could.
"Och, and och! then, my laddie, she was glad the koorich (sheep) wassafe, and she didna thinkit a much aboot hersel. But she prayed and sheprayed, and then she joost fell asleep, and the Lord of Hosts tookit acare of her."
Well, this honest shepherd was certainly imbued with the sincere andbeautiful faith of the early Covenanters, but, after all, who shall dareto say that there is no efficacy in real prayer. Not in the prayersthat are said, but in the prayers that are prayed.
----
Well, spring returned at last. Soft blew the winds from off the westernsea; all the hills were clad in green; the woods burst into bud andleaf; in their darkest thickets the wild doves' croodle was heard,droning a kind of bass to the mad, merry lilt of the chaffie, the daftsong of the mavis, or low sweet fluting of the mellow-voiced blackbird.
But abroad on the moors the orange-scented thorny whins, resplendent,hugged the ground, and here the rose-linnets built and sang, while highabove, fluttering against some fleecy cloudlet, laverocks (larks)innumerable could be heard and dimly seen.
Oh it was a beautiful time, and the breath of God seemed over all theland.
Frank Trelawney had adopted, not only all the methods of life of hisScots 42nd cousins, but even their diet.
Almost from the date of his arrival he had taken a shower-bath orsponge-bath before breakfast, and this breakfast was for the most partgood oatmeal porridge, with the sweetest of butter and freshest of milk.
Now that spring had really come, he went every morning with Duncan andConal to a big brown pool in the woodland stream. So deep was it thatthey could take headers without the slightest danger of knocking a holein the gravel bottom of the "pot". Having towelled down and dressedrapidly, they ran all the way home.
This new and healthful plan of living soon told for good on theconstitution of the London lad. His muscles grew harder and stronger,roses came on his cheeks, and he was as happy and gay as Viking himself,and that is saying a deal.
Many a long ramble did he and little Flora now take together through thewoods and wilds, for he did not care to go boating or sea-fishing withthe others every day.
Vike always accompanied the two. This certainly was not because hedisliked the sea. On the contrary, he loved it. Whenever the boat camewithin a quarter of a mile of the beach he always sprang overboard andswam the rest of the way.
Arrived on shore he shook gallons of water out of his coat. If you hadbeen standing between the dog and the sun, you would have seen himenveloped in bright little rainbows, which were very pretty; but ifanywhere alongside of him, then you would have required to go straighthome and change your clothing, for Viking would have drenched you to theskin if not quite through it.
But I suppose that this grand and wise Newfoundland thought the Londonboy and little Flo had more need of his protection.
Ah! many and many a day and night after this, when far away at sea orwandering in wild lands, did Frank think of these delightful rambleswith his little companion. Think of them, ay, and dream of them too.
Often they were protracted till--
... "The moonbeams were bright O'er river and forest, o'er mountain and lea".
Some poet of olden times--I forget his name--tells us that "pity is akinto love". Well, Flora began by pitying this "poor little London boy",as she always called him, even to his face, but quite sympathizingly,and she ended, ere yet the summer was in its prime, by liking him verymuch indeed. To say that she loved him would, of course, be a phrasemisapplied, for Flora was only a child.
----
With June, and all its floral
and sylvan joys, came shoals of herringfrom the far north, and busy indeed were the boatmen catching them.
Glenvoie lay some distance back from a great sweep of a bay, at each endof which was a bold and rocky headland.
Few of the herring boats really belonged to this bay, but they all usedoften to run in here, and after arranging their nets, they set sail fortheir mighty draughts of fishes.
Duncan and Conal were always welcome, because they assisted rightwillingly and merrily at the work.
The boats were very large, and all open in the centre--the well, thisspace was called--and with a cuddy, or small living and cooking room,both fore and aft.
It used to be rough work, this herring fishing, and not over cleanly,but the boys always put on the oldest clothes they had, with waterproofleggings, oil-skin hats, and sou'westers.
They would be out sometimes for two days and nights.
The beauty of the scenery, looking towards the land at the sunset hour,it would be impossible for pen or pencil to do justice to. The smoothsea, with its patches of crimson, opal, or orange, the white sands ofthe bay, the dark, frowning headlands, the dark greenery of the shaggywoods and forests, and the rugged hills towering high against theeastern horizon; the whole made a picture that a Turner only could haveconveyed to canvas.
The dolphin is--from a poet's point of view--a very interesting animal,with an air of romance about him. Dolphins are said to be of a veryjoyous temperament. Well, perhaps; but they are, nevertheless, about theworst enemies those hardy, northern, herring-fishery men have toencounter.
They come in shoals after the herrings, and go "slick" through the nets,carrying great pieces away on their ungainly bodies. And the boatmencan do nothing to protect their silvery harvest.
Once, while our young heroes were on board one of the largest and bestof the boats, it came on to blow off the land--not simply a gale ofwind, but something near akin to a hurricane. They were driven out tosea about sundown, and Duncan and Conal could never forget thesufferings of that fearful night.
After trying in vain to beat to windward, they put up the helm--narrowlyescaping broaching-to--and ran before it.
But all through the darkness, and until the gray and uncertain light ofday broke slowly over the storm-tossed ocean, the seas were continuallybreaking over the sturdy boat, and everyone was drenched to the skin.It might have been said, with truth, that she was swamped, so full ofwater was the well.
The great waves were now visible enough, each with its yellow sides andits foaming mane. It seemed, indeed, that the ocean was stirred up toits very bottom, and when down in the trough of the seas, with those"combers" threatening far above, with truth might it have been said thatthe waves were mountains high.
All the nets were lost, but no lives.
About noon the wind veered round to the west, and all sail was set, andthe boat steered for land; but so far into the Atlantic had they beendriven that it was sunrise next morning before they succeeded inreaching the bay.
And there sad news awaited them.
There would be mourning widows and weeping children, for two bonnieboats had perished with all their brave crews.
Well, there is danger in every calling, but far more, I think, in thatof the northern fisherman than in any other.
But how doubly dear to him is life on shore, when he reaches his littlewhite-washed cottage, after a successful run, and meets his smiling wifeand happy children, who run to greet their daddy home from sea.
----
Summer was already on the wane, and July nights were getting longer.Frank must soon seek once more his London home.
But he was healthier, stronger, happier now, by far and away, than whenhe first arrived at Glenvoie.
Ah! but the parting with everyone, but especially with bonnie youngFlora, would be sad and sad indeed.
One morning, about a week before Frank was to leave for the south,Duncan came into his room.
"You and I and Conal are going up the hill to-day," he said, "all byourselves, and I have something to propose which I feel sure you will beglad to approve of."
"All right!" said Frank.
So after breakfast the three boys slipped away to the hills, withouttelling anyone what they were after.
A council was to be held.