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Updated: May 28, 2025
The billies lookit as gin they were gettin' terrifeed at Sandy, when I noticed him gie Bandy a bit wink on the sly; an' I saw syne that Sandy was nae mair mismirized than I was. "There's neen o' ye here 'at Sandy has ony ill-will at," says Bandy; "we'll see what like his fechtin' bump wirks." Wi' that he gae him a touch ahent the lug, an' Sandy was layin' aboot him in a wink.
E'en the great, rough men couldna hide their tears; an' nae shame to them ava, for a strong heart should hae its saft spot. Then, efter a while, the leddy raised her heid an' said, 'Men o' Glendown, they hae dee'd a glorious death, fechtin' for his Majesty the king an' for their country. 'Tis the death they wad hae chosen, fechtin' face to foe. Let us a' be thankful for God's mercy.
And I canna but think, gien ye'll excuse me, sir, that, for his father's sake, it wud be a gracious ac' to tak him intil the queen's service, and lat him baud on fechtin for 's country, whaurever it may please her mejesty to want him. Oot whaur he was afore micht be best for him I dinna ken. It wad be to put his country's seal upo' their word.
"Three months he and the ither twa held the sodjers at bay, till they had them clean wearied oot!" May Girmory explained to her bosom friend, Lizzie McCreath, as they promenaded together; "but to my thinkin' there is little that either of the ither two could do. It would be himsel', Lizzie, that did the thinkin' and the fechtin'. He's the head o' a' the Free Bands, ye ken, Lizzie!"
To Dickson's surprise Dougal seemed to be in good spirits. He began to sing to a hymn tune a strange ditty. "Class-conscious we are, and class-conscious wull be Till our fit's on the neck o' the Boorjoyzee." "What on earth are you singing?" Dickson inquired. Dougal grinned. "Wee Jaikie went to a Socialist Sunday School last winter because he heard they were for fechtin' battles.
McAlpine cam'," replied his friend, giving himself up to the joys of retrospect. "Yer faither used to say the Glen was jist like the Garden o' Eden until the serpent cam', an' it wes the tavern. Ah mind when yon Eerish crew from the Flats cam' up here to Pete Nash's tavern, an' the lads from the Oa cam' doon, a' McDonalds to a man, an' ye could hear the fechtin' ower on the Tenth.
"Are you tellin' the story, or am I?" asked Tammas. "I kent fine 'at they were Persians. Weel, Miltiades had the matter o' twenty thoosand men wi' im', and when they got to the foot o' the mountain, behold there was two cocks fechtin'." "Man, man," said Hendry, "an' was there cocks in thae days?" "Ondoubtedly," said Tammas, "or hoo could thae twa hae been fechtin'?"
"Nothing, so far as I can hear, Louis," said Miss Aline; "but our maid is afraid, and her father's house and her uncle's are both as full of soldiers and ribaldry as ever in the times of the Covenant. So where should she come if not to me? It was more wisely done than I could have expected from that 'fechtin' fule' of a Stair Garland." Louis Raincy saw Patsy.
There's aye a guid chance o' fechtin upo' the borders the frontiers, as they ca' them! Kirsty sat silent. She had been thinking much of what Francis ought to do, and had changed her mind on the point since the time when she talked about him with sir Haco. 'Isna that what ye wud hae me du, Kirsty? he said, when he found she continued silent. 'A body's no a fule for wantin guid advice!
The threads of life ran in and out through the pattern of sounds he was weaving, and the older days of fighting and victories followed as I listened. There was hurrying, marching, charging; the groan of defeat; the mad slogan of final victory. "He's fechtin' the Macleans noo," cried out one of the men, who had some English, and the others chattered vigorously for a minute in their own Gaelic.
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