Three Boys Part 57

"Mind what you're doing!" shouted Kenneth.

"Hwhat tid ye do that for?" cried Scoodrach, viciously rubbing his sconce.

"Do it for? Why don't you sit still, and not get throwing your head about all over the boat?"

"She tid it o' purpose," growled Scoodrach; "and she's cooard to hit a man pehind her pack."

"If you call me a coward, Scoody, I'll pitch you overboard."

"No, she wouldna. She has not get pack her strength."

"Then Max will help me, and we'll see then."

"Pitch her overboard, then, and she'll swim ash.o.r.e, and she'll hae to row ta poat her ainsel'."

But Scoodrach had no occasion to swim, for he was not pitched overboard; and, as the wind dropped and the water became like gla.s.s, the rods were laid in, and Scoodrach rowed them along in sulky silence toward the sh.o.r.e; Kenneth, as he sat now beside his companion, returning to the idea he had been about to start some time before.

"I say, Max," he said, "I wonder what's the matter with father. I wish old Curzon was here. I think the pater is going to be ill."

"I hope not."

"So do I; but he always seems so dull, and talks so little."

"I thought he seemed to be very quiet."

"Quiet! I should think he is. Why, he used to be always going out shooting or fishing, and taking me. Now, he's continually going to Glasgow on business, or else to Edinburgh."

"When do you expect him back?"

"I don't know. He said it was uncertain. Perhaps he'll be there when we get home."

But The Mackhai was not back, and a fortnight elapsed, and still he was away.

The last few days seemed to have quite restored Kenneth, who, once able to be out on the mountains, recovered strength at a wonderful rate.

Those were delightful days to Max. His old nervousness was rapidly leaving him, and he was never happier than when out with the two lads fishing, shooting, boating, or watching Kenneth as he stood spear-armed in the bows, trying to transfix some shadowy skate as it glided as if flying over the sandy bottom of the sea-loch.

One grandly exciting day to Max was on the occasion of a deer-stalking expedition, which resulted, through the clever generalship of Tavish, in both lads getting a good shot at a stag.

Max was first, and, after a long, wearisome climb, he lay among some rocks for quite a couple of hours, with Tavish, watching a herd of deer, before the time came when, under the forester's guidance, the deadly rifle, which Max had found terribly heavy, was rested upon a stone, and Tavish whispered to him,--

"Keep ta piece steady on ta stane, laddie, and when ta stag comes well oot into ta glen, ye'll chust tak' a glint along ta bar'l and aim richt at ta showlder, and doon she goes."

Max's hands trembled, his heart beat fast, and the perspiration stood on his brow, as he waited till, from out of a narrow pa.s.s which they had been watching, a n.o.ble-looking stag trotted slowly into the glen, and, broadside on, turned its head in their direction.

Max saw the great eyes, the branching antlers, and, in his excitement, the forest monarch seemed to be of huge proportions.

"Noo!" was whispered close to his ear; and, "glinting" along the barrel, after fixing the sight right upon the animal's flank, Max drew the trigger, felt as if some one had struck him a violent blow in the shoulder, and then lay there on his chest, gazing at a cloud of smoke and listening to the rolling echoes as they died away.

"Aweel, aweel!" said a voice close by him, in saddened tones. "Ye're verra young, laddie. Ye'll hae to try again."

"Isn't it dead?" said Max.

"Na, she's no' deid, laddie."

"But I don't see it. Where is the stag?"

"Ahint the mountain yonder, laddie; going like the wind."

"Oh!" said Max; and for the next few minutes he did not know which way he felt--sorry he had missed, or glad that the n.o.ble beast had got away.

Kenneth was more successful. He brought down his quarry a couple of hours later, and the rough pony carried home the carcase for Long Shon to break up, Max partaking of a joint of the venison a few days later, and thinking it was very good, and that he enjoyed it all the more for not having shot the animal himself,--though he could not help telling Kenneth that the fat seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

KENNETH RESISTS THE LAW.

Three more days glided by, spent in hunting and fishing. Max succeeded in spearing one skate himself, and was nearly pulled out of the boat by the curious fish as it made its final struggle for life. And then a momentous day came, when, after spending the morning in having a glorious sail, during which, as there was a splendid breeze, Max had felt quite comfortable, as he sat well to windward, holding on by the gunwale and helping to act as ballast to keep the boat from going over under the great press of sail Kenneth insisted upon carrying, they ran softly in under shelter of the rocks, and were approaching the castle landing-place, when Tavish came rushing up breathlessly.

"Come oot!" he roared. "Come oot, laddies!"

"What's the matter, Tavvy? Has my father--"

"Nay, laddie; he's no' come back. Come oot! come oot!"

The boat was run in, Scoodrach left to moor her, and Kenneth leaped ash.o.r.e.

"What's wrong?" he cried, as he was saluted by a burst of baying from the dogs, which had been waiting their master's return.

"Wrang, my laddie? She had to gang doon to Kinlochai, and there she found ta bailies."

"What, at the farm?"

"At ta fairm, laddie, noo. An ugly, pock-faaced chief wi' hauf a dizzen loons asked me ta way to Dunroe. He's a bailie coming to tak' ta place."

"What? Nonsense, Tavvy!"

"Hey, but it's nae nonsense, laddie, for she met Dooncan Graeme, and Dooncan knew her at Glasgie. She's ta bailie, and she's coming to tak'

ta Dunroe."

"Then she isn't going to have it!" cried Kenneth, flushing. "Bailiffs, indeed! It's all some stupid mistake."

"She rin on to tall ye, but ye were awa'," panted Tavish, whose face was streaming.

"They're just here, then?" said Kenneth excitedly.

"Na; she was askit ta way to Dunroe, and she sent them richt doon through ta mountains, laddie; and they'll nivver get here till some ane sets them richt."