------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kenneth's mother lived in the long low turf-thatched cottage beyond the birch wood. He had neither sister nor brother, and for many a long year his father had been quietly sleeping in the humble little churchyard that surrounded the ruins of the old parish kirk. "Oh, Kooran, doggie, here you are," cried Kenneth's mother as the dog came trotting in, open-mouthed and gasping with the race he had had. "Here ye are, and I haven't milked the cow yet. But I won't be long, laddie." Kooran signified his intention of waiting, and threw himself down on the kitchen floor, but not before he had lapped up all the cat's milk. Pussy jumped down from the three-legged stool, near the peat fire, and began purring and rubbing herself against Ivooran's chin. The cat and dog were the best of friends; perhaps pussy thought it was good policy to keep in with Kooran. As soon as Kenneth's mother had milked the cow, she filled a tin flagon with the rich white fluid, made up a large parcel of buttered scones and cheese, tied the whole in a large red napkin, and put it on the floor. Kooran was up and off before the cat could have winked, had she wanted to wink. He took time to recross the stream and held the parcel high up as he did so, but he did not let the grass grow under his feet, ere he returned to the spot where he had left his young master. He was not there, but Kooran soon found him asleep on the fragrant heather couch. The dog dropped the bundle, sat down and looked at his master, and considered. This did not wake him, so Kooran gave vent to an impatient whine or two. As even that did not wake the sleeping boy, the dog licked his cheek, then clawed at his arm with his paw, and finally Kenneth sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then burst out laughing. "What silly dreams I've had," he said, proceeding to undo the knot on the napkin, "such silly dreams! But go and fetch your dish, doggie." Kooran trotted off, and was back again in a moment with a tin saucer, and the scones and milk were shared. "But oh! Kooran," continued the boy presently, "I've such news for you." The dog pricked his ears, and turning his head a little on one side, looked wondrous wise. "No," said Kenneth, "it isn't rats, and it isn't rabbits. There is never anything else in your noddle, Kooran, but rats and rabbits. It's a cave, Kooran. Of course you don't know what a cave is, but here,-- there is some more dinner for you. Eat that, and then we'll go and explore." The boy and his dog started off up the glen immediately after, and Kooran, knowing there was something on the _tapis_, commenced to frisk and bark around his young master. "That won't do, Kooran," said the boy, shaking his finger at his companion. "Ye mustna do that. Look down there at the sheep; every single one o' them has stopped eating to snuff the air. Come to heel and keep quiet."