The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)Hogg, James
History
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Hogg, James
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Robert II, 1371-1390 -- Fiction
It was under the command of Hab Elliot that I made my first raide; a gay
rough spun cout he was, and nae cannie hand for a southland valley.
Weel, you see, there was a chap came to my father's house at Yardbire ae
morning, and he says to my father, "Wat," says he, (that was my father's
name, what he ca'ed me Charlie for I dinna ken, for I never spier'd,)
"Wat," says the chiel, "ye maun raise your lads, and tie on your
wallets, and meet the warden the morn at the Hawk-Hass, there's gaun to
be a stoure on the east border."
"An there be a stoure on the east border I's be there for ane," said my
father; "but the de'il ae man hae I left but auld Will Nicol and the
callant Charlie. There hae seven men o' Moodlaw and Yardbire fa'en sin
Beltan. I canna mak men, but I shall fight wi' them I have. As for
Charlie, he disna want spirit, but he's unco young and supple, and will
mak but a weak stand in a strong blast: Auld Will he kens brawly how to
take care care o' himsel; and, atween the twa, I may be ill bestedde.
But, gae as it will, I'll be there."
I was a massy blade that day when I gaed o'er Craik-Corse riding at my
father's side. I was sae upliftit I could hardly sit on my yaud; and I
saw my father was proud o' his callant, as he ca'ed me,--that made me
ten times waur. The first men we came at were the lang-shankit Laidlaws
o' Craik; and then the Grahams o' Drife they came up wi' us; and when we
came to Howpasley, my father got the laird's right hand, and we gaed
ower Skelfhill-swire seven score and ten, but there were only fifty o'
us had horse, and mine was ane o' the best."
"Wha's this stripling that rides the good dun mare," said the laird o'
Howpasley.
"That's my bit niff-naff of a callant," says my father: "That's my
Charlie, cousin John."
"He's a twig of a good tree," said Howpasley: "I like the spark gayan
weel, if he wad ride a little evener up, an' no haud forrit his head
like a woodcock. But, my word, he has a lang arm!"
"Ay, a pair o' them, cousin," said my father; and the twa carles hotched
and leuch at my father's joke.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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