'We must do as I have had to do more than once before, Mrs. Sangster, when I got befogged in the hills, follow a stream of running water--the first we can find. The water will find its way down somewhere, and will bring us to a house eventually, though it may take us through some difficult places.' A burn was by-and-by found, and they set themselves to follow its course wherever that might lead, like the clue by which some devious labyrinth is disentangled. It led through swampy places sometimes, and sometimes tumbled downward among rocks and under high banks, but they were already so wet that walking in its bed where the sides were too craggy and difficult made small difference, and after clambering downwards for more than an hour, they were rejoiced by the barking of a dog some distance below them. 'Do you hear that? Mrs. Sangster; I think we are nearing a habitation at last!' Mrs. Sangster drew a long breath, and stood upright to listen; letting go her hold of the bushes by whose help she was scrambling down in the bed of the burn. The rock she stood on was slippery. On changing her poise her feet slid from under her, and with a scream, and a clattering of stones, she shot forward and downward upon her companion, landing them both in a pool of water. 'Oh, Roderick Brown! You'll be the death of me! How dare you try your cantrips on a woman old enough to be your mother? Dragging me through bogs and down precipices, and ducking me in burns till I haven't a dry stitch on my back, or an easy bone in my body! I'll have ye up before the presbytery for a graceless loon! Oh, laddie! never mind what I say. My head's just going round and round, I think I'm demented! Lay me on the bank to drip--and let me die in peace! I can go no further.' [Illustration: "She shot forward and downward upon her companion, landing them both in a pool of water." Page 88.] 'Nonsense, Mrs. Sangster. Just a few steps more! We must be very close to some shieling now. I declare I can smell the peat reek in the air! Here is a footpath going down the hill--come! let us follow it.' 'Give me your hand, then, for I do not think I have courage left to stand alone, far less walk. Oh! What an experience!' They reached a shepherd's cottage in a few minutes more, where the wife of Stephen Boague, surrounded by dogs and children, came out to receive them. Roderick was not sorry to hand over his charge to the good woman's care, but he would not linger himself, he must hasten to the inn, though that was three miles off, to learn if the others had not arrived there, and if not to send searchers up the mountain after them. The mist had changed into a drizzling rain, but he was already too wet to feel it, and too anxious for the others to have any thought for himself. CHAPTER XII. _INCHBRACKEN_.