Archie is eleven years of age, though very tiny, but very strong, and as hard as an Arab. No fat about Archie. His face and bare neck and breast and thorn-scratched knees are as red as if recently rubbed with brick-dust. There isn't a rent or hole in either his jacket or kilt, but woe is me, it is pretty nearly all patches; it is mother's work every night to mend the rents Archie makes in his clothes. Archie is, of course, his mother's darling. She even takes pains to make him pretty. She prides herself even in his beautiful hair. His hair is one of Archie's strong points. Mind, he wears no bonnet (cap), never did and never would. He owns one, but always forgets to put it on. So his soft golden hair is cut across above the brows, and hangs in wavy luxuriance over his shoulders. I said golden, but it is more straw colour, and bleached on the top almost white. He is a singular lad, Archie, has a half-wild, half-frightened look in his face; in fact, take him all in all, he is quite in keeping with the romantic surroundings. "I've got him," Archie said. "What is it?" "A little black rabbit." "Strange," said Kenneth; "put him down. He must be half tame, I should think." Archie put it down, and the two boys knelt beside it among the heather. It was a half-grown one, so mild, so gentle-looking. Butter, you would have said, wouldn't melt in that wee rabbit's mouth. And it crouched down low and held its ears flat against its back, and never moved an eye or winked, but allowed the lads to smooth it with their fore-fingers. But all at once, pop! it was off like an eel. "Oh?" said Archie, with such a disappointed look, "and I meant to take it hame wi' me." Kenneth laughed, and off the two scampered, as wild as any rabbits. "Shot is here," said Archie. "Where?" "Down with Kooran." "Then you must whistle him up; Kooran will look after the sheep by himself, but Shot will lead him into temptation. Besides, the sheep don't know Shot. Whistle, Archie, whistle, man." Archie put four fingers in his mouth and emitted a scream as shrill as the scream of the great whaup. [The curlew.] In a moment more Shot was coming tearing along through the heather. And with him was Kooran. "What do you want, Kooran?" Kooran threw himself in a pleading attitude at his master's feet, looked up with brown, melting, pleading eyes, and wagged his tail. "Oh! I know, dear doggie," said Kenneth; "you want your dinner, because you know we'll be away all day." Kooran jumped and capered and danced and barked, and Kenneth rolled a piece of cake and a bit of cheese in a morsel of paper and handed it to the dog. "Keep the koorichan," (sheep) "well together, doggie," he said; "and don't take your dinner for an hour yet."