Chapter 15. Bird-Nesting Under Difficulties

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_ CHAPTER FIFTEEN. BIRD-NESTING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

"What shall we do?" said Kenneth.

Just as he spoke, Max made a jump and turned nimbly round, for Sneeshing, who had not been touched by Donald's stone, had come fidgeting round them, and had had a sniff at the visitor's legs.

"I say, Max, there must be something very nice about your legs," cried Kenneth, laughing. "Don't set the dog at me, please."

"I didn't. It's only his way. Here, what shall we do--fish?"

"Not to-day," said Max, giving involuntarily a rub of one white leg against the other.

"Well, let's go and have a shot at something."

"I think I would rather not," pleaded Max, who looked with horror upon the idea of tramping the mountain side clothed as he was. "What do you say to a sail, then?"

Max shivered as he recalled his sensations upon the ride from the steamer; but there was a favourable side to such a trip--he could sit in the boat and have a railway wrapper about him.

"Where would you go if we sailed?"

"Oh, anywhere. Up the loch, over the firth, and through the sound. Over to Inchkie Island. We'll take the guns; we may get a shot at a hare, hawk, or an eagle."

Max nodded.

"That's right. Get down, Bruce! don't you get smelling his legs, or we shall have him bobbing off into the sea."

The great deerhound, who was approaching in a very suspicious manner, eyeing Max's thin legs, turned off, and, choosing a warm, smooth piece of rock, lay down.

"Off you go, Scood, and bring the boat round. Come on, Max, and let's get the guns. You can shoot, can't you?"

"I think so," said Max, as Scoodrach went off at a trot.

"You think so?"

"Yes. I never fired a gun, but the man showed me how to load and take aim, and it looks very easy."

"Oh yes, it looks very easy," said Kenneth dryly. "You just hold the gun to your shoulder and point at a bird. Then you pull the trigger, and down comes Dicky."

"Yes. I went to see men shoot pigeons after I had bought my gun. My father said I had better."

"Oh, he said you had better, did he?"

Max nodded.

"And he thought that would do as well as shooting pigeons, for they come expensive."

Kenneth laughed.

"Ah, well, we can give you something to shoot at here, without buying pigeons; but you'll have to mind: my father wouldn't like it if you were to shoot either me or Scood."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that!" cried Max. "It isn't likely."

"Glad of it," said Kenneth dryly. "Well, then, don't make a mistake and shoot one of the dogs. I'm sure they would not like it. Where's your gun?"

"In the case in my bedroom. Shall I fetch it?"

"Yes. Got any cartridges?"

"Oh yes, everything complete; the man saw to that."

"Look sharp, then," said Kenneth; and he had a hearty laugh as he saw his new companion go upstairs.

In spite of the admonition to look sharp, Max was some few minutes before he descended. For the first thing he saw on reaching his bedroom were his two pairs of trousers, neatly folded, and lying upon a chair.

The gun was forgotten for the minute, and it was not long before the kilt was exchanged for the southern costume in the form of tweeds, Max sighing with satisfaction as he once more felt quite warmly clad.

Kenneth laughed as Max reappeared with his gun and cartridge belt in his hand.

"Hallo!" he said; "soon tired of looking Scotch."

"I--I'm not used to it," said Max apologetically. "And never will be if you go on like that."

"But I found my own things in my room, and it did not seem right to keep on wearing yours."

"Wonder where they were?" said Kenneth dryly.

"I suppose the butler found them," said Max innocently.

Kenneth whistled, and looked rather peculiar, but his aspect was not noticed by his companion, who was experimenting on the best way to carry his gun.

"Loaded?"

"No, not yet."

"Then don't you load till I tell you. I'll give you plenty of time. Come along."

"Going for a sail, Maister Ken?" cried a voice; and Long Shon came waddling up, looking very red-faced and fierce.

"Yes, Shon, and we don't want you in the boat."

Long Shon grunted, and followed close behind.

"She could go instead of Scood."

"Yes, I know she could, but she isn't going," replied Kenneth, mimicking the man's speech. "What would Scood say if I left him behind?"

"She could show you an eagle's nest up the firth."

"So can Scood. He knows where it is!"

Long Shon pulled a battered brass box out of his pouch, and took a big pinch of snuff as he waddled behind.

"She knows where there's a raven's nest."

"That's what Scood told me this morning, Long Shon."

"But she tidn't know where there's a nest o' young blue hawks."

"Yes, I do, father," shouted Scood from the boat, in an ill-used tone, for they were now down on the rocks, and Scoodrach was paddling the boat in close.

"He wants me to turn you out, and take him instead, Scood. Shall I?"

"No!" said Scood undutifully.

"Petter tak' me, Maister Ken, and she can teach the young chentleman how to hantle his gun."

"Look here, Shon, the young chentleman knows how to hantle his gun. I don't want you, and I don't want your dogs. You, Sneeshing, come back."

The ugly little Scotch terrier had waited till Scoodrach came near, and then crept down among the rocks to a crevice where he could get quietly into the water without a splash, and was paddling to the side of the boat, looking like an otter swimming.

Sneeshing whined and made a snap at the water.

"Do you hear, sir? Come back!" cried Kenneth; but just then Scood leaned over the side, gripped the little dog by the loose skin at the back of his neck, and lifted him into the boat.

Sneeshing's first act was to run forward and give himself a tremendous shake to get rid of the water, and then he performed a sort of triumphant dance, and ended by placing his forepaws over the side, and barking at his fellows on the rock.

Bruce seemed to frown at him, showed his teeth, and then uttered a deep baying bark; but Dirk answered the challenge of his little companion by barking furiously, then running up and down upon the rocks for a few moments, watching the boat, as if calculating whether he could leap in; and ending by plunging into the sea with a tremendous splash.

"Come back, sir! Do you hear? come back!" shouted Kenneth, when Dirk raised his head from the water, and uttered a remonstrant bark, which seemed to say,--

"It isn't fair. You're letting him go."

"Hit him with an oar, Scood," cried Kenneth. "Here, you Dirk, come back, sir, or I'll pepper you!"

As he spoke, Kenneth raised the gun he carried and took aim at the dog, who threw up his head and uttered a piteous howl, but kept on swimming up and down beside the boat.

"Will you come out, sir?"

Dirk howled again.

Click! click! sounded the hammers, as Kenneth drew the triggers; and Dirk now burst forth into a loud barking.

"She says she knew it wasn't loated, Maister Ken," cried Long Shon, laughing; "she's a ferry cunning tog, is Dirk."

"Hi, Dirk! look here," cried Kenneth; and he threw open the breech of his gun and slipped in a couple of cartridges. "Now then, young fellow," he continued, "the gun's loaded now; so come back and stop ashore. You're not going."

"How-ow!"

Dirk's cry was very pitiful, and, whether he understood the fact of the gun being loaded or not, he turned and swam slowly ashore, climbed on the rock and stood dripping and disconsolate, without trying to scatter the water from his coat.

"You'd better learn to mind, sir, or--"

Kenneth gave the dog's ribs a bang with the gun barrel, and Dirk whined and crouched down, watching his master wistfully as he stepped off the rock into the boat, and then held out his hand to Max to follow.

"Mind what you're doing, Scood," cried Long Shon. "Ta wint's going to change."

Scood nodded, and began to hoist the sail; the wind caught it directly, and the boat moved swiftly through the water.

"You're not going near the Mare's Tail to-day, are you?" said Max anxiously, as Kenneth laid his gun across his knees.

"No, I wasn't going; but if you want to--Here, Scood, let's go and show him the Grey Mare's Tail again."

"No! No! No!" cried Max excitedly; "and pray don't go into any dangerous places."

He bit his lip with annoyance as soon as he had said the words, for he felt that it had made him seem cowardly in the eyes of his companions.

Scood grinned, and Kenneth said laughingly,--

"Oh, I thought you wanted to go there. We won't go into any danger. Would you like a lifebelt?"

"No!" said Max indignantly; and then to himself, "I wish there was one here."

"Tak' care, Maister Ken. Ta wint's going to change."

"All right."

"You, Scood, mind you ton't mak' fast ta sheet."

Max looked round for the sheet, but he did not see it; and concluded that it was the sail that was meant.

"I do wish people wouldn't treat us as if we were babies," said Kenneth angrily. "Just as if I didn't know how to sail a boat."

He jumped up suddenly, and shouted back,--

"Hi, Shon!"

"Ay, ay!"

"Pray take care of yourself."

"You tak' care o' yoursel', Maister Ken, and never mind me."

"Mind you don't catch cold."

"Eh?"

"Tie a handkerchief round your neck, and put your feet in warm water."

"What ye mean, Maister Ken?"

"Get Mother Cumstie to come and hold your hand, for fear you should fall off the rock."

"What ye talking aboot, sir?"

"Do be careful, Shon; there's a good man."

Long Shon stood on the rock, rubbing a great red, yellow-freckled ear; and then scratched one of his brawny cheeks, looking puzzled.

"Shall I send Scoody back, to lead you with a string?"

The distance was getting great now, and the man's voice sounded faint as he put his hands to his mouth to make a speaking-trumpet.

"She ton't know what you mean."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Scood.

"Go and teach your grandmother how to suck eggs," roared Kenneth in the same way; but Shon shook his head, for he could not hear the words; and Kenneth sank down in the boat, and pressed the tiller a little to port, so as to alter the boat's course slightly. "Scood," he cried pettishly, "your father's a jolly old woman."

Scood, who was half leaning back, enjoying the fun of hearing his father bantered, suddenly started up in a stiff sitting position, and tore off his Tam o' Shanter, to throw it angrily in the bottom of the boat, as his yellow face grew redder, and he cried fiercely,--

"No, she isna an auld woman. My father's a ferry coot man."

"No, he isn't; he's a regular silly old cow."

"My father's a man, and a coot man, and a coot prave man, and never wass an auld woman."

"Get out, you old thick-head!" cried Kenneth.

"I ton't say my het isna a coot thick het, Maister Ken; but my father is as coot a man as The Mackhai hersel'."

"Oh, all right, then; Long Shon is a coot prave man, but his legs are too short."

"She canna help her legs peing short," said Scood, who was still ruffled; "put they're ferry coot legs--peautiful legs."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Kenneth.

"So they are," cried Scood. "They're not so long, put they're much pigger rount than the Chief's."

"Bother! Hear him bragging about his father's old legs, Max! Here, you come and take a lesson in steering," said Kenneth, making fast the sheet, an act which made Scoodrach growl a little. "I can't steer and shoot."

"Shall she tak' the tiller?" said Scood.

"No; you stop forward there, and trim the boat. Well, Sneeshing, can you see anything?"

The dog was standing on the thwart forward, resting his paws on the gunwale, and watching the flight of the gulls. At the sound of his master's voice, he uttered a low bark.

"Whee-ugh, whee-ugh!" cried a bird.

"Look, Max, there he goes out of shot."

"What is it?"

"A whaup."

Max followed the flight of the bird eagerly as it flew off toward the shore of a long, low green island on their left.

"Now then, catch hold."

"I'm afraid I don't know how to steer," said Max nervously.

"Oh, it's easy enough. Keep her head like that, and if she seems to be going over, run her right up into the wind."

"But I don't know how."

"Never mind that. Half the way to know how is to try--eh, Scood?"

"Yes; if she nivver tries, she can't nivver do nothing at all so well as she should," said Scood sententiously.

"Hear that, Max?" cried Kenneth, laughing. "Scood's our philosopher now, you know."

"Na, she isna a flossipher," grumbled Scood. "Put look, Maister Ken-- seal!"

He sat perfectly still, gazing straight at some black rocks off a rocky islet.

"Where?--where?" cried Max eagerly. "I want to see a seal."

There was a soft, gliding motion on the black rock, and, almost without a splash, something round and soft and grey-looking plunged into the sea.

"You scared it away," said Kenneth.

"Oh, I am sorry!"

"Don't suppose the seal is; but I couldn't have hit it to do any harm with this gun."

The boat glided on, and all at once, from the water's edge about a hundred yards away, up rose, heavily and clumsily, a great flapping-winged bird.

"What's that?" cried Max, whose knowledge of birds save in books was principally confined to sparrows, poultry, and pigeons.

"Heron. Can't you see his beak?"

"Yes, and long neck. What a long thin tail!"

Scood chuckled.

"What's he laughing at?"

"You mind what you're doing; you'll have the boat over. Keep the tiller as I showed you."

Max hastily complied.

"That isn't his tail," continued Kenneth, watching the heron, which was far out of shot. "Those are his long thin legs stretched out behind to balance him as he flies."

Max said "Oh!" as he watched the bird, and came to the conclusion that he was being laughed at, but his attention was taken up directly after by a couple of birds rising from the golden-brown weedy shore they were gliding by--birds which he could see were black and white, and which flew off, uttering sharp, excited cries.

"What are those?"

"Pies."

"Pies?"

"Yes; not puddings."

"I mean magpies?"

"No; sea pies--oyster-catchers."

"Do they catch oysters?"

"Never saw one do it, but they eat the limpets like fun. Now then, sit fast. Here's a shot."

Max sat fast and shrinkingly, for he was not accustomed to a gun being fired close to his ears. He watched eagerly as a couple of birds flew toward them with outstretched necks and quickly beating, sharply-pointed wings, but they turned off as the gun was raised, and, though Kenneth fired, there was no result.

"Waste of a shot," he said, reloading.

"What were those?"

"Sheldrakes. How shy they are, Scood!"

Max thought it was enough to make them, but he did not say so, and he scanned the island as they sailed on, with the sensation of gliding over the beautiful sparkling water growing each moment more fascinating as his dread wore off. They were passing a glorious slope of shore, green and grey and yellow, and patched with black where some mass of shaley rock jutted out into the sea to be creamed with foam, while everywhere, as the tide laid them bare, the rocks were glistening with the golden-brown seaweed of different species. Blue sky, blue water, blue mountains in the distance: the scene was lovely, and the London boy's eyes brightened as he gazed with avidity at the ever-changing shore.

"Is that a castle?" he said, as a square ruined tower gradually came into sight at the point of the island.

"Yes; there are lots about," said Kenneth coolly. "There's another yonder."

He nodded in the direction of the mainland, so cut up into fiords that on a small scale it resembled the Norwegian coast, and, on shading his eyes, Max could see another mouldering pile of ruins similar in structure to Dunroe, with its square mass of masonry and four rounded towers at the corners.

"What castle is that?"

"Rannage. This one on the island is Turkree. Every chief used to have a place of that sort, and most of 'em built their castles on rocks like that sticking out into the sea."

Max gazed eagerly at the ruined towers, the homes of jackdaws, bats, and owls, and he was beginning to dream about the old times when men in armour and courtly ladies used to dwell in these sea-girt fortalices, but his reverie was broken in upon by a sharp snapping bark from Sneeshing, and an exclamation from Scood.

"Oh, you beauty!" exclaimed Kenneth, as he gazed up at a great strong-winged, hawk-like bird, which went sailing by. "See, Max. Blue hawk."

"Is that a blue hawk?" said Max, as he gazed wonderingly at the rapidity with which the great bird cut through the air.

"Yes; peregrine falcon, the books call it. There's a nest yonder where we're going."

"Where?"

"On the face of that great grey cliff that you can see under the sail."

Max gazed at the huge wall of rock about a mile away, and noted that the falcon was making for it as fast as its wings would beat.

"Are we going there?"

"Yes. I want the nest. I think there are young ones in it--late couple fledged."

The rocky cliff looked so stern and forbidding, that it seemed as if climbing would be impossible.

"Then we're going on to that rock on the other side--that tall crag. That's where the eagles build."

Max gazed hard at a faint blue mass of crag miles farther, and then turned half doubtingly to his companion.

"Eagles?" he said; "I thought there were none now."

"But there are. There's one pair build yonder every year, quite out of reach; but I mean to have a try for them some day. Eh, Scood?"

"Ou ay!" ejaculated the young gillie carelessly; "why no?"

"Are there any other wild things about?"

"Any wild things? plenty: badgers, and otters, and roe deer, and red deer. Look, there's one right off against the sky on that hill. See?"

"Yes," cried Max. "I can see that quite plainly."

"Tah!" ejaculated Scood scornfully; "it's a coo."

"You, Scood, do you want me to pitch you overboard?" cried Kenneth.

"Nae."

"Then hold your tongue."

"Ou ay, Maister Kenneth, only ton't tell the young chentleman lies. Look, Maister Max, there's the teer, four, five, sax of them, over yon. See?"

"Yes, I can see them; but are they really deer?"

"No," cried Kenneth; "they're bulls."

"They're not. Ton't you belief him. She can see quite plain. They're teer."

"If they were deer they'd bolt," cried Kenneth, shading his eyes; "they wouldn't stop there."

"There they go," cried Scood, as the graceful creatures trotted over the shoulder of a hill a mile or more away, all but one, which stood up against the sky, so that they could make out its great antlers.

"So they are," said Kenneth. "Why, Max, we must go after that fellow to-morrow. How is it they've come down here?"

"Been shot at somewhere else."

"Hadn't we better go back and get the rifles?"

"Noo? No; let's come to-morrow airly, and have a coot fair try."

"Perhaps that will be best," said Kenneth in assent, as the stag disappeared, and the boat sped on.

"But may you shoot stags?" said Max rather wonderingly.

"Of course, when they are on my father's part of the forest. That's his out there."

"Forest? Where?" asked Max wonderingly.

"Why, there."

"What, that place like a great common? There are no trees!"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Scood. "Who ever heard of a forest with trees?"

"Hold your tongue, Scood, or I'll pitch you overboard."

"She's always talking spout pitching her overpoard, but she never does," muttered Scood.

"Our land runs right along there for three miles. Once upon a time The Mackhai's forest ran along for thirty miles."

"How is it that it does not now?"

"Father says the rascally lawyers--I beg your pardon. He was cross when he said that."

Kenneth hastily changed the subject, as he saw his companion's flushed countenance.

"I say, we'll come out here fishing one day. Like fishing for mackerel?"

"I never did fish for them."

"Oh, it's rare sport. We have a couple of rods out each side as we sail along, and catch plenty when there's a shoal. Looks high, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Max, as the boat glided on over the calm heaving water till they were right under a great grey wall of crag, which towered above their heads, and cast clearly-cut reflections on the crystal water over which they rode.

"That's five hundred feet if it's an inch," said Kenneth, as he threw himself back and gazed up. "Look, Max."

"What at?"

"See those two black fellows on that ledge with their wings open?"

"Yes. What are they--blackbirds?"

"Black enough. Cormorants drying their plumage."

"But it hasn't been raining."

"No; but they've been diving, and got well wet. Why, they can swim under water like a fish."

"Go on, if you like telling travellers' tales," said Max, smiling.

"Well, of all the unbelieving old Jews! Just as if I was always trying to cram you! I tell you they do. So do the gannets and dookkers. They dive down, and swim wonderfully under water, and chase and catch the fish. They're obliged to."

"Look out! there she goes," cried Scoodrach.

Kenneth raised his gun, but the bird to which his attention was drawn was out of shot.

"That's the hen bird, Scood."

"Yes; and I can see where the nest is," cried the young gillie.

"Where?"

Kenneth laid his hand on Max's, which was upon the tiller, pressed it hard, and, to the lad's surprise, the boat glided round till she faced the wind, and then lay gently rising and falling, with the sail shivering slightly in the breeze.

"Yes, that's it, sure enough, on that ledge somewhere," said Kenneth, after a long stare up at the face of the grey crag. "See, Max?"

"No."

"Why, there, about fifty feet from the top. See now?"

"No."

"Oh, I say! where are your eyes? See that black split where the rock seems to go in?"

"Yes, I see that."

"Well, down a little way to the left, there's a--Oh, look at that!"

A great sharp-winged bird came over the cliff from landward, and was about to glide down to the shelf of rock, when, seeing the boat and its occupants, the bird uttered a piercing shriek, and swept away northward.

"That's the cock," cried Kenneth. "No mistake about the young ones, Scood. Now, then, how shall we get 'em?"

Scood was silent.

"Do you hear, stupid?"

"Ou ay, she can hear, Maister Ken."

"Well, how are we to get them?"

"Aw'm thenking," said Scood, as he stared up at the beetling crag, which was for the most part absolutely perpendicular.

"Hit him on the head with that oar, Max, and make him think more quickly."

"She couldna get up anywhere there," said Scood slowly, as he scanned every cranny of the cliff face.

"Oh yes, we could, Scood."

"Nay, Maister Ken, an' ye see, if we was to tummle, it wouldn't be into the watter, but on to the rocks."

"Oh, we shouldn't tumble. You could climb that, couldn't you, Max?"

"No, not without a ladder," replied Max thoughtfully; "and I never saw one long enough to reach up there."

"No, I should think not. Look here, Scoody, one of us has got to climb up and take those young ones."

"She couldna do it."

"You're afraid, Scoody."

"Na, she isna feared, but she couldna do it."

"Well, I shall try."

"No, don't; pray, don't! It looks so dangerous."

"Nonsense!"

"She couldna clamber up there fra the bottom," said Scoodrach slowly, "but she could clamber up it fra the top."

"No, you couldn't, stupid; it hangs over."

"An' we could tak' a rope."

"Come on, then," cried Kenneth, seizing the tiller; and Max felt his hands grow damp in the palms as he looked up at the top of the precipice, and saw in imagination one of his companions dangling from a rope.

"Which will be best--forward or backward?"

"Yonder where we landed to get the big corbies," said Scoodrach; and the boat was run on for about a quarter of a mile, to where a ravine ran right up into the land, looking as if a large wedge had been driven in to split the cliff asunder.

The boat was steered in, the sail lowered, and Scood immediately began to set free one of the ropes.

"Think that'll be strong enough, Scoody?"

"Na."

"Then why are you casting it loose?"

Scoodrach gave his companions a cunning look, and made the rope fast to a ring-bolt, and then leaped out and secured the other end to a mass of rock.

"That'll hold her," he said. "Unto the ither."

"Oh, I see what you mean now," cried Kenneth, unfastening the mooring-rope from the ring in the bows. "Yes, that'll do better."

"She'll holt twa laddies hanging on at aince," said Scoodrach. "Na, na, ton't to that."

"Why not?"

"Because she'll want ta crapnel."

"Scood, you're an old wonder!" cried Kenneth; "but you'll have to carry it."

"Ou ay, she'll carry her," said the lad coolly; and, getting on board again, he lifted and shouldered the little anchor, so that one of the flukes hung over his shoulder and the coil of rope on his arm.

"She's retty," he said.

"All right. Come on, Max, and we'll send you down first."

"Send me down first?" said Max, looking wildly from one to the other.

"To be sure. You can't fall; we'll tie the rope round you and let you down, and then you can turn round gently and get roasted in the sun."

Scood laughed.

"You're bantering me again," said Max, after a few moments.

"Ah, well, you'll see. Stop back if you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," said Max firmly, but his white face spoke to the contrary. All the same, though, he drew a long breath, and jumped out of the boat to follow Scoodrach, who took the lead, tramping sturdily over the rough rocks of what proved to be a very stiff climb, the greater part of it being right down in the stony bed of a tiny torrent, which came gurgling from stone to stone, now dancing in the sunshine, and now completely hidden beneath the debris of ruddy granite, of which a dyke ran down to the sea.

"Hard work for the boots, Max, isn't it?" said Kenneth, laughing, as he came along behind, active as a goat, and with his gun on his shoulder.

"Yes," said Max, perspiring freely. "Isn't there a better path than this?"

"No; this is the best, and it's beautiful to-day. After rain this is a regular waterfall."

"Ou ay, there's a teal o' peautiful watter comes town here sometimes," said Scood.

They climbed on by patches of ragwort all golden stars, with the ladies' mantle of vivid green, with its dentate edge, neat folds, and pearly dewdrop in the centre, and by patches of delicate moss, with the pallid butterwort peeping, and by fern and club moss, heath and heather, and great patches of whortleberry and bog-myrtle, every turn and resting-place showing some lovely rock-garden dripping with pearly drops, and possessing far more attraction for Max than the quest upon which they were engaged.

"Ah, only wait till you've been here a month," cried Kenneth, "and your wind will be better than this."

"Don't you get as hot as I am with climbing?"

"I should think not, indeed. Why, Scood and I could almost run up here. Couldn't we, Scood?"

"Ou ay; she could run up and run town too."

"Is it much farther to the top?" said Max, after a few minutes' farther climb; and he seated himself upon a beautiful green cushion of moss, and then jumped up again, to the great delight of his companions, who roared with laughter as they saw a jet of water spurt out, and noted Max's look of dismay. For it was as if he had chosen for a seat some huge well-charged sponge.

"I--I did not know it was so wet."

"Moss generally is on the mountain," cried Kenneth. "You should sit down on a stone or a tuft of heath if you're tired. Try that."

"I'm so uncomfortably wet, thank you," replied Max, "I don't think I'll sit down."

"Oh, you'll soon dry up again. Let's go on, then. We're nearly up at the top."

Kenneth's "nearly up at the top" proved to be another twenty minutes' arduous climb, to a place where the water came trickling over a perpendicular wall of rock ten feet high, and this had to be scaled, Max being got to the top by Scood hauling and Kenneth giving him a "bump up," as he called it. Then there was another quarter of an hour's climb in and out along the steep gully, with the stones rattling down beneath their feet, and then they were out, not on the top, as Max expected, but only to see another pile of cliff away to his right, and again others beyond.

They had reached the top of the range of cliff, however, and away to their left lay the sea, while, as they walked on along the fairly level cliff, Max felt a peculiar shrinking sensation of insecurity, for only a few yards away was the edge, where the face fell down to the shore.

"Don't walk quite so near," he said nervously.

"Certainly not," said Kenneth politely. "Do you hear, Scoody? don't go so near. It's dangerous. Come this way."

As he spoke, he made his way, to Max's horror, close to the verge, and, with a grin of delight, the young gillie followed him, to climb every now and then on the top of some projecting block right over the brink, and so that had he dropped a stone it would have fallen sheer upon the rocks below.

Max felt a strange catching of the breath, and his eyes dilated and throat grew dry; when, seeing his suffering, Kenneth came more inward.

"Why, what are you afraid of?" he said, laughing. "We're used to it, and don't mind it any more than the sheep."

"Tut it looks so dreadful."

"Dreadful? Nonsense! See what the sailors do when they go up aloft, with the ship swaying about. It's quite solid here. Now, Scoody, aren't we far enough?"

"Na. It's just ahint that big stane where we shall gae doon."

"No, no; it's about here," said Kenneth; and, going to the edge, he looked over.

Scoodrach chuckled.

"Can ye see ta nest, Maister Ken?"

"No; I suppose you're right. There never was such an obstinate old humbug, Max; he's always right. It's his luck."

Scoodrach chuckled again, and went on about fifty yards to where a rough block of stone lay in their path, and as soon as they were by this, he went to the brink and looked down, bending over so much that Max shivered.

"There!" he cried, and Kenneth joined him, to look over as well, apparently at something beneath the projecting rock which was hard to see.

"Yes, here it is!" he cried, "Come and have a look, Max."

At that moment the party addressed felt as if he would like to cling to the nearest stone for an anchorage, to save himself from being blown off the cliff by some passing gust, and he stood still, staring at his companions on the brink.

"Well, why don't you come? You can just see where the nest lies--at least you can make out the bits of stick."

"I don't think I'll come, thank you," said Max.

"Nonsense! Do be a little more plucky."

"Yes," said Max, making an effort over himself; and he took a couple of steps forward, and then stopped.

"Well," cried Kenneth, "come along! There's no danger."

As he stood there, with his gun resting on the rock beside him, Max could not help envying his cool daring, and wishing he could be as brave.

But he could not, and, going down on hands and knees, he crept cautiously toward the brink, and then stopped and uttered a cry, for something made a leap at him.

It was only Sneeshing, who had been forgotten, and who had been enjoying himself with a quiet hunt all to himself among the heather. As he trotted up, he became aware of the fact that his young master's visitor was turning himself into a four-footed creature, and he leaped at him in a friendly burst of greeting.

"I--I thought somebody pushed me," gasped Max. "Call the dog away."

"Down, Sneeshing!" cried Kenneth, wiping his eyes. "Oh, I say, Max, you made me laugh so--I nearly went overboard."

Max gave him a pitiful look, and, from crawling on hands and knees, subsided to progression upon his breast as he came close to the edge of the rock and looked shudderingly down.

"See the nest?" said Kenneth, as he exchanged glances with Scoodrach.

"No, no. I can see a great shelf of stone a long, long way down," replied Max, shuddering, and feeling giddy as he gazed at the shore, which seemed to be a fearful distance below.

"Well, that's where the nest is, only right close in under the rock. Lean out farther--ever so far. Shall I sit on your legs?"

"No, no! don't touch me, please! I--I'll look out a little farther," cried Max, in alarm.

"D'ye think if ye teuk her legs, and she teuk her heat, we could pitch her richt oot into the sea, Maister Ken?" said Scoodrach, in a low, hoarse voice.

Max shot back from the edge, and sat up at a couple of yards' distance, looking inquiringly from one to the other, as if fearing some assault.

"You'll soon get used to the cliffs," said Kenneth. "I say, look, Scoody!"

He pointed out across the wide sea-loch, and Max could see that two sharp-winged birds were skimming along in the distance, and returning, as if in a great state of excitement about their nest.

"There they are, Max, the pair of them," said Kenneth.

"Isn't it cruel to take their nest, supposing you can get it?" said Max.

"Oh, very," replied Kenneth coolly. "We ought to leave it alone, and let the young hawks grow up and harry and strike down the grouse and eat the young clucks. Why, do you know how many birds those two murder a day?"

"No," said Max.

"Neither do I; but they do a lot of mischief, and the sooner their nest is taken the better."

"I did not think of that. They're such beautiful birds upon the wing, that it seems a pity to destroy them."

"Yes; but only let me get a chance. Why, if we were to let these things get ahead along with the eagles, they'd murder half the young birds and lambs in the country. Now, Scood, how's it to be?"

Scoodrach grunted, and kicked away the earth in different places, till he found where there was a good crevice between two pieces of rock, where, making use of the anchor as if it were a pickaxe, he dug out the earth till he could force down one fluke close between the stones till the stock was level, when he gave it a final stamp, and rose up.

"There," he said, "twenty poys could not pull that oot."

"Yes, that will bear, unless it jumps out," said Kenneth. "Look here, Max, will you go down first?"

"I? Oh no!"

"All right, you shall go down after. Now, mind, you've got to keep your foot on the grapnel here, so as it can't come out."

"But you surely will not go down, and trust to that?"

"Trust to that, and to you, my lad. So, mind, if you let the anchor fluke come out, down I shall go to the bottom; and I don't envy you the job of going to tell The Mackhai."

"Oh, Kenneth!"

"Fact I'm the only boy he has got."

"It is horrible!" panted Max, as Scoodrach advanced to the edge of the cliff and threw over the coil of rope, standing watching it as it uncurled rapidly ring by ring, till it hung taut.

Max saw it all in imagination, and the fine dew stood out upon his face as he pressed his foot with all his might down upon the anchor, and listened to and gazed at what followed.

"There she is," said Scoodrach. "Will ye gang first, Maister Ken, or shall I?"

"Oh, I'll go first, Scood. But how about the young birds? what shall I put them in?"

Scood hesitated for a moment, and then took off his Tam o' Shanter.

"Ye'll joost putt 'em in ta ponnet," he said.

"No, no, that won't do; they'd fall out."

Scood scratched his curly red head.

"Aweel!" he exclaimed; "she's cot a wee bit of string. Ye'll joost tak' it in yer sporran, and my twa stockings. Putt ane in each, and then tie 'em oop at the tops and hang 'em roond yer neck. Do ye see?"

"That will do capitally, Scood!" cried Kenneth, seizing the socks which the lad had stripped from his feet and thrusting them in his pocket. "Good-bye, Max."

"No, no! don't say good-bye! Don't go down!" panted Max, in spite of himself; and then he stood pressing wildly down on the anchor, for Kenneth had glided over the side, and, after hanging from the verge for a moment, he gave his head a nod, laughed at Max, and disappeared, with Scoodrach leaning down with his hands upon his knees watching him.

For a few moments Max closed his eyes, while the rope jarred and jerked, and the iron thrilled beneath his foot. Then all at once the jarring ceased, and the rope hung loose.

Max opened his eyes in horror, the idea being strong upon him that Kenneth had fallen. But his voice rose out of the depths beyond the edge.

"Ask him if he'd like to come down and see."

"No, no!" cried Max huskily; "I'd rather not."

"She says she shall not come," cried Scoodrach.

"Then let him stay where he is," came from below. "Come and have a look, Scood."

To Max's horror, the gillie went down on his knees, seized the rope, and passed over the edge; Max watching his grinning countenance as he lowered himself down, with first his chest and then his face disappearing, lastly the worsted tuft on the top of his Tam o' Shanter; and there was nothing to see but the pulsating rope, and the sea, sky, and blue mountains on the other side of the loch.

And now a strong desire to take his foot from the anchor, and creep to the edge of the cliff and look down, came over Max. He wanted to see Scoodrach descend to the shelf of rock and join Kenneth. He wanted, too, to look upon the falcon's nest; for, after seeing these two descend so bravely, by a sudden reaction he felt ashamed of his own nervousness, and was ready to show them that he was not so cowardly after all.

All this was momentary; and there the rope kept on vibrating and the anchor jarred as Scoodrach descended; while, as Max pressed the stock down, and it rose and fell like a spring beneath his foot, he kept his eyes fixed upon the edge of the cliff, where the rope seemed to end, when there was a dull twang, as if the string of some gigantic instrument had snapped, and, to his horror, the rope rose from the top of the cliff as if alive, and struck and coiled round him with a stinging pain. _

Read next: Chapter 16. A Brave Attempt

Read previous: Chapter 14. Macrimmon's Lament

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