Steve Young Part 71

"And you, too, Andra. Get up, and come with us; it will do you good."

"Neffer no more, neffer no more," groaned the man.

"Nonsense! It's too bad of you!" cried Steve. "The ship's as dull as dull now, and you might make it so different."

Andrew groaned, but he pulled the blanket away from his left ear, and Steve noticed it as he went on.

"One never hears you making a joke about Hamish."

"Ah, she tid mak' chokes apoot Hahmeesh."

"And just when we want the place to be made cheerful with a bit of music, you go and put away the pipes and pretend they're frozen."

Andrew groaned again, but it was a much shorter groan.

"When it was light we could hear the pipes going. Ha! what were those tunes you played--Strathclydes?"

"Na, na, Strathspeys, laddie; but if she tuked a holt o' the pipes the noo it wad pe a coronach she'd blaw."

"Very well; I'd rather hear that than nothing. That was a good tune, 'Maggie Lauder.'"

"Oh ay, she wa.s.s a ferry coot chune," sighed Andrew.

"And that jolly jig, 'Money Rusk.'"

"'Musk,'" sighed Andrew. "Oh ay, 'Money Musk' mak's ta plood stir in a man maist as much as 'Tullochgorum.'"

"Or 'The Gathering of the Clans,' Andra," cried Steve.

"Hey, she's crant!" cried the man excitedly. "She stirs the plood, too."

"Yes, and it rouses up the men."

"She feels as if she cauld play it a pit the noo."

"Could you? Then look here, Andra. We're going to have a run across the fiord in the moonlight. It's full moon and as clear as day."

"She's retty the noo," said Watty.

"That's right, Watty; and I want Andra to come, too. Look here, old fellow. Get the pipes, and you and I and Watty'll go at the head of the men, and we'll march across to the side, with you playing 'The Gathering of the Clans' in the moonlight, and making the mountains ring. Why, it would be grand."

"Ay, she'd pe crant," said Watty; "put she couldna play it. The notes would freeze, ant come rattling doon like hail-stanes."

"No, they wouldn't, Watty. My word, how the old pipes would make the mountain-side ring and echo again! Such a sound was never heard before so far north."

"Hey! and if she had a claymore an' the plaidie--the plaidie o' the McByles."

"Never mind the plaid, Andra. Put on the sheep-skin coat, and come and try."

The man's eyes flashed, and, raising himself on his elbow, he thrust one hand behind him, and brought out his beloved pipes from under the blankets.

"Tak' haud, laddie," he said. "She was frichten tat the pahg might freeze hairt, put she's quite saft. She'll be retty tirectly."

In ten minutes Andrew was in his big boots and sheep-skin coat and hood, ready to stretch out his hands for the pipes.

"Ahoy, Mr Steve!" came from the deck in Johannes voice. "We're ready to start."

"Coming!" cried Steve, who was trembling for fear his efforts had been thrown away and that Andrew would shirk.

But the man pulled himself together, and marched out with quite a military bearing on to the deck, which was empty, and then down the snow steps to where the men were waiting with the captain at their head. And as Steve and his companions stepped out into the bright moonlight reflected from the dazzling snow, the men burst into a cheer, which they repeated when, without a word, Steve took his place with Watty in front, and then signed to Andrew to go first.

The Highlander did not hesitate, but threw back his head, placed the mouthpiece to his lips, blew out the bag, and then stepped off, sending forth the wild notes quivering on the frosty air. He played, and played well, the thrilling strains, which echoed and throbbed from the sides of the rock in a weird and wonderful manner, and sent a curious sensation trembling through the nerves of every man present.

They were utterly silent now, as they kept step to the music, every one bringing his feet down with a heavy tramp, till the regular _beat, beat_ was repeated from the snowy rocks in front like the regular tap on some giant drum. Then the echoes grew more and more, till to the excited imagination of Andrew, who, like the rest of the crew, was half hysterical from long-continued depression, it seemed as if other pipes were being played high up among the dazzling snow pinnacles, and clans afar off were gathering indeed to the wild notes of the pibroch.

Right away across the fiord, with hearts glowing and pulses beating high, the men marched on till the entrance to the chasm was reached, and Andrew, looking three inches taller than usual, gave a final blast, which went quivering and echoing through the clear, silent air for miles before it quite died away upon the ears of the men, who drew aside their hoods to listen.

Then, and then only, did they burst forth into a stentorian cheer, which was repeated twice and listened to until it died away.

"Bravo! bravo!" cried the captain. "Well done, Andrew, my man. It was grand! It was worth coming through all these troubles to hear."

"Ay, the pipes is crant," said Andrew proudly. "She's the far pestest musick as effer wa.s.s for the mountains."

"And never better played," cried the doctor. "I say bravo, too."

"Well, Watty, how are you?" whispered Steve.

"She feels petter, chust noo."

"Keep moving, my lads!" cried the captain cheerily; and he stepped forward.

But not many yards; for there before them, piled-up in mighty ma.s.ses, was the freshly fallen rock which had come crashing down from on high, and completely blocked up the entrance to the pa.s.sage-like gorge through which they had been wont to row to the sea.

"Will the water force its way through, Johannes?" said the captain.

"No, sir, never. If it had been ice and solid snow, it would of course in time; but this is all granite rock."

"Well," said the captain, "it will be work for us to haul a boat right over the mountain and keep on the other side."

In due time the word was given, and Andrew went to the front again to strike up some of his gayest lilts; and the men marched back to muster on deck afterwards, glowing with health and exercise, and ready to enjoy a hearty meal.

"Steve, my lad," cried the captain, as soon as they were in the cabin, "G.o.d bless you for this! You've started the poor fellows on a fresh lease of life. And done me more good, boy, than ever I did to any one yet."

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Steve, who felt a choking sensation in his throat.

"No nonsense, my lad. Try to keep it up; any way, so that we can kill the demon _ennui_."

"I'll try," said Steve huskily; "but, hard though it was, I didn't know it would do so much good. But I'll never laugh at the bagpipes again."