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"Well, then, you can't have come to buy or to ask advances," growled Duncan; "for you see that our store and all we possessed has been burnt by your precious countrymen." La Certe knew this, and professed himself profoundly grieved as well as indignant with his countrymen. No, he did not come to buy or to borrow, but to hire. The McKays had still some horses left, and carts.
"Yankee that I am," he admitted, "I seem to be Scot enough to observe the prejudices and folk-ways of my forebears." "Is it your clan flag?" "Bratach Bhan Chlaun Aoidh," he said smilingly. "The White Banner of the McKays." "Good! And what may that be that bunch of weed you wear in your button-hole?" Again the young fellow laughed: "Seasgan or Cuilc in Gaelic just reed-grass, Miss Yellow-hair."
Suddenly he burst into tears, but the weakness was momentary. With an effort that seemed to concentrate the accumulated energy of all the McKays from Adam downwards, he again pursed his mouth and looked at his younger son with a stern persistent frown, worthy of the most rugged of Highlanders in his fiercest mood. Duncan was inexpressibly touched.
With much labour and skill had the Davidsons and McKays erected two timber cottages side by side in the land of their adoption. These two families were among the first band of settlers.
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