Kidnapped (Illustrated): Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751Stevenson, Robert Louis
History
Kidnapped (Illustrated): Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Kidnapping -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
Looking out between the trees, we could see a great side of mountain,
running down exceeding steep into the waters of the loch. It was a rough
part, all hanging stone, and heather, and big scrogs of birchwood; and
away at the far end towards Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were
dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every
minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for
what breath was left them; but they still stuck to the trail, and
doubtless thought that we were close in front of them.
Alan watched them, smiling to himself.
“Ay,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary before they’ve got to the end of
that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite, and
breathe a bit longer, and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike
for Aucharn, the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, where I must
get my clothes, and my arms, and money to carry us along; and then,
David, we’ll cry ‘Forth, Fortune!’ and take a cast among the heather.”
So we sat again and ate and drank, in a place whence we could see the
sun going down into a field of great, wild, and houseless mountains,
such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we
so sat, and partly afterwards, on the way to Aucharn, each of us
narrated his adventures; and I shall here set down so much of Alan’s as
seems either curious or needful.
It appears he ran to the bulwarks as soon as the wave was passed; saw
me, and lost me, and saw me again, as I tumbled in the roost; and at
last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. It was this that put
him in some hope I would maybe get to land after all, and made him leave
those clues and messages which had brought me (for my sins) to that
unlucky country of Appin.
In the meanwhile, those still on the brig had got the skiff launched,
and one or two were on board of her already, when there came a second
wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and
would certainly have sent her to the bottom, had she not struck and
caught on some projection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had
been bows-on, so that the stern had hitherto been lowest. But now her
stern was thrown in the air, and the bows plunged under the sea; and
with that, the water began to pour into the fore-scuttle like the
pouring of a mill-dam.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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