The big giant caught him by both shoulders, and threw him back into the chair. "Did you hear me?" said he (but there was an ominous mirth in his eyes too). "Peaceably, peaceably; the Baintighearna says peaceably—they are to go peaceably." "Aw, is it peaceably?" the Gillie Ciotach cried, with a loud laugh. "Well, if they will go peaceably, that is very good; but if they will not go peaceably, then we will make them sing a little song to-morrow—by God, Archie MacNicol, we will make them sing ’Farewell to Fiunary,’ and maybe it is on the wrong side of their mouth they will be singing the ’Farewell to Fiunary!" CHAPTER IX. THE BATTLE OF RU-MINARD. All that night there was marching and counter-marching, and whipping up of recruits, and drinking of whiskey, and singing of _Gabhaidh sinn an rathad mòr_.[#] Big Archie and his peaceful, or pseudo-peaceful, counsels were no longer heeded; the movement had been taken up by the younger fellows, headed by the mischievous Gillie Ciotach; and the belief became general that orders had been received from the Fishery Board in Edinburgh to the effect that the Ru-Minard squatters were forthwith to be driven into the sea. And if the aliens should refuse to be so driven—should stand up in defence of their little bits of homesteads—what then? [#] "We will take the highway." "It is a lesson they will want," said the Gillie Ciotach, gaily, to his comrades (they were having a friendly glass together, in a barn lit up by a solitary candle), "not to come thieving on other people’s lobster-ground, and building huts wherever they like, and not a penny of rent to the holder of the croft. It is a lesson they will want; and it is a lesson they will get—to take back home with them, and keep the others from coming here. Well, now, this is my opinion, that the best thing for giving a man a rap over the head is a tiller. A tiller with a handle to it—aw, that is a fine convenient thing!" "I am going to take an oar over my shoulder," said a brawny young Hercules. "And the more fool you, then," said the Gillie Ciotach, who was a blunt-spoken youth. "For I will tell you this, Feargus: if you strike at a man with an oar, and he steps aside so that you miss him, then he has you at his mercy—it does not need a wise man to show you that. Aw, God, a tiller is a fine thing, when the wood is strong—it is a tiller that will be my _orra-an-donais*[#] to-morrow." He broke into a loud laugh. "We will teach them to be telling lies about the Fishery Board!—and it is little they are thinking now that to-morrow they will be singing *Farewell, farewell to Fiunary_!" [#] _Orra-an-donais_—an amulet for sending one’s enemy to perdition. _Donas_ is Satan.