dames enforce their notes, whether of rage or lamentation. I asked Andrew, who looked as pale as death, what all this meant.

“I doubt we’ll ken that ower sune,” said he. “Means?—It means that the Highland wives are cursing and banning the red-coats, and wishing ill-luck to them, and ilka ane that ever spoke the Saxon tongue. I have heard wives flyte in England and Scotland—it’s nae marvel to hear them flyte ony gate—but sic ill- scrapit tongues as thae Hieland carlines’—and sic grewsome wishes, that men should be slaughtered like sheep—and that they may lapper their hands to the elbows in their hearts’ blude—and that they suld dee the death of Walter Cuming of Guiyock,² wha hadna as muckle o’ him left thegither as would supper a messan-dog—sic awsome language as that I ne’er heard out o’ a human thrapple;—and, unless the deil wad rise amang them to gie them a lesson, I thinkna that their talent at cursing could be amended. The warst o’t is, they bid us aye gang up the loch, and see what we’ll land in.”

Adding Andrew’s information to what I had myself observed, I could scarce doubt that some attack was meditated upon our party. The road, as we advanced, seemed to afford every facility for such an unpleasant interruption. At first it winded apart from the lake through marshy meadow ground, overgrown with copsewood, now traversing dark and close thickets which would have admitted an ambuscade to be sheltered within a few yards of our line of march, and frequently crossing rough mountain torrents, some of which took the soldiers up to the knees, and ran with such violence, that their force could only be stemmed by the strength of two or three men holding fast by each other’s arms. It certainly appeared to me, though altogether unacquainted with military affairs, that a sort of half-savage warriors, as I had heard the Highlanders asserted to be, might, in such passes as these, attack a party of regular forces with great advantage. The Bailie’s good sense and shrewd observation had led him to the same conclusion, as I understood from his requesting to speak with the Captain, whom he addressed nearly in the following terms:—“Captain, it’s no to fleech ony favour out o’ ye, for I scorn it—and it’s under protest that I reserve my action and pleas of oppression and wrongous imprisonment;—but, being a friend to King George and his army, I take the liberty to speer—Dinna ye think ye might tak a better time to gang up this glen? If ye are seeking Rob Roy, he’s kend to be better than half a hunder men strong when he’s at the fewest; and if he brings in the Glengyle folk, and the Glenfinlas and Balquidder lads, he may come to gie you your kail through the reek; and it’s my sincere advice, as a king’s friend, ye had better tak back again to the Clachan, for thae women at Aberfoil are like the scarts and sea-maws at the Cumries, there’s aye foul weather follows their skirling.”

“Make yourself easy, sir,” replied Captain Thornton; “I am in the execution of my orders. And as you say you are a friend to King George, you will be glad to learn, that it is impossible that this gang of ruffians, whose license has disturbed the country so long, can escape the measures now taken to suppress them. The horse squadron of militia, commanded by Major Galbraith, is already joined by two or more troops of cavalry, which will occupy all the lower passes of this wild country; three hundred Highlanders, under the two gentlemen you saw at the inn, are in possession of the upper part, and various strong parties from the garrison are securing the hills and glens in different directions. Our last accounts of Rob Roy correspond with what this fellow has confessed, that, finding himself surrounded on all sides, he had dismissed the greater part of his followers, with the purpose either of lying concealed, or of making his escape through his superior knowledge of the passes.”

“I dinna ken,” said the Bailie; “there’s mair brandy than brains in Garschattachin’s head this morning—And I wadna, an I were you, Captain, rest my main dependence on the Hielandmen—hawks winna pike out hawks’ een. They may quarrel amang themsells, and gie ilk ither ill names, and maybe a slash wi’ a claymore; but they are sure to join in the lang run against a’ civilised folk, that wear breeks on their hinder ends, and hae purses in their pouches.”

Apparently these admonitions were not altogether thrown away on Captain Thornton. He reformed his line of march, commanded his soldiers to unsling their firelocks and fix their bayonets, and formed an advanced and rear guard, each consisting of a non-commissioned officer and two soldiers, who received strict orders to keep an alert lookout. Dougal underwent another and very close examination, in which