"We were a’ in the same plight, and ever since the dool-day o’ Culloden had lived in caves and forests, like the beasts o’ the field. My father found us out in our hiding-place—a feat which baffled the followers of Cumberland, to whom no true Scotsman would betray us,—even although thirty thousand pounds were offered for the prince, dead or alive! My father fell on his knees, and sair he wept to see the son o’ his king a wandering outcast and outlaw, amang his ain Highland hills. He tauld us o’ his encounter wi’ the _lham-dearg_, but the prince laughed heartily, just as he used to do at Holyrood, and wadna believe a word o’t. Aweel, sirs, we wandered lang about Archaig and Glenpean, stealing for the prince’s support the few sheep which escaped Cumberland’s order to destroy every living thing in the country. Mony, mony were the miseries and calamities he suffered until the month of September, when he embarked at Moidart on board o’ the Ballona, a Nantz ship o’ thirty-twa guns, broucht for him by the loyal Colonel Warren. Lochiel, Glengarry, Borodale, and a hundred common men, including my faither and mysel, followed them into banishment. "In France the prince, wha indeed never, while ae plack rubbit on anither, forgot auld friends, got Lochiel command of one of the regiments composed of Scots and Irish refugees, wha served the French king. As in duty bound, we followed Lochiel, and became soldiers of his battalion, which soon became so famous,—the Royal Scots regiment. We were wi’ the army under the Mareschal Saxe, whan the French defeated oor auld enemy the bluidy Duke of Cumberland at Laffeldt, in June 1747, and compelled the British troops to retire in disorder. Wi’ a’ the memory o’ the past, o’ our prince’s wrangs, and the awfu’ butcherie o’ Culloden glowing in their minds, the Royal Scots fought wi’ richt gude will against the scarlet ranks o’ the British, and unco’ slaughter we made amang them wi’ bayonet and claymore, when they were compelled to flee, and retire in disorder on the toon or village o’ Val.