"I think I see what you mean," said Mercy: "if there had been no wild beasts to fight with, men would never have grown able for much!" "That is it," said Alister. "They were awful beasts! and they had poor weapons to fight them with--neither guns nor knives!" "And who knows," suggested Ian, "what good it may be to the fox himself to make the best of a greedy life?" "But what is the good to us of talking about such things?" said Christina. "They're not interesting!" The remark silenced the brothers: where indeed could be use without interest? But Mercy, though she could hardly have said she found the conversation VERY interesting, felt there was something in the men that cared to talk about such things, that must be interesting if she could only get at it. They were not like any other men she had met! Christina's whole interest in men was the admiration she looked for and was sure of receiving from them; Mercy had hitherto found their company stupid. CHAPTER XIII. THE LAKE. Silence lasted until they reached the shoulder of the hill that closed the view up the valley. As they rounded it, the sun went behind a cloud, and a chill wind, as if from a land where dwelt no life, met them. The hills stood back, and they were on the shore of a small lake, out of which ran the burn. They were very desolate-looking hills, with little heather, and that bloomless, to hide their hard gray bones. Their heads were mostly white with frost and snow; their shapes had little beauty; they looked worn and hopeless, ugly and sad--and so cold! The water below was slaty gray, in response to the gray sky above: there seemed no life in either. The hearts of the girls sank within them, and all at once they felt tired. In the air was just one sign of life: high above the lake wheeled a large fish-hawk. "Look!" said Alister pointing; "there is the osprey that lives here with his wife! He is just going to catch a fish!" He had hardly spoken when the bird, with headlong descent, shot into the water, making it foam up all about. He reappeared with a fish in his claws, and flew off to find his mate. "Do you know the very bird?" asked Mercy. "I know him well. He and his wife have built on that conical rock you see there in the middle of the water many years." "Why have you never shot him? He would look well stuffed!" said Christina. She little knew the effect of her words; the chief HATED causeless killing; and to hear a lady talk of shooting a high-soaring creature of the air as coolly as of putting on her gloves, was nauseous to him. Ian gave him praise afterwards for his unusual self-restraint. But it was a moment or two ere he had himself in hand. "Do you not think he looks much better going about God's business?" he said. "Perhaps; but he is not yours; you have not got him!"