THE MUCKLE HART OF BEXMORE. 253 



it as my fate that I must have that hart ; so on we trudged. 

 Repeatedly that afternoon we came on the fresh tracks of 

 our chase, but still he remained invisible. As it got dark, the 

 weather suddenly changed, and I was glad enough to let Do- 

 nald seek for the bearings of a ' whisky bothy,' which he had 

 heard of at our last stopping-place. While he was seeking 

 for it, the rain began to fall heavily, and through the dark- 

 ness we were just able to distinguish a dark object, which 

 turned out to be a horse. ' The lads with the still be no far 

 off,' said Donald. And so it turned out. But the rain had 

 increased the darkness so much, that we should have searched 

 in vain, if I had not distinguished at intervals, between the 

 pelting of the rain and the heavy rushing of a black burn 

 that ran beside us, what appeared to me to be the shrill treble 

 of a fiddle. I could scarcely believe my ears. But when I 

 communicated the intelligence to Donald, whose ears were 

 less acute, he jumped with joy. ' It's a' right enough, sir ; 

 just follow the sound. It's that drunken deevilish Sandy 

 Ross ; ye'll never haud a fiddle frae him, nor him frae a 

 whisky-still.' It was clear that the sound came from across 

 the black stream, and it looked formidable in the dark. How- 

 ever, there was no remedy. So grasping each other's collar, 

 and holding our guns high overhead, we dashed in, and stag- 

 gered through in safety, though the water was up to my waist, 

 running like a mill-race, and the bottom was of round stones. 

 Scrambling up the bank, and following the merry sound, we 

 came to what seemed a mere hole in the bank, from which it 

 proceeded. The hole was partially covered by a door woven 

 of heather ; and, looking through it, we saw a sight worthy of 

 Teniers. On a barrel in the midst of the apartment half 

 hut, half cavern stood ajoft, fiddling with all his might, the 

 identical Sandy Ross, while round him danced three unkempt 

 savages ; and another figure was stooping, employed over a 

 fire in the corner, where the whisky-pot was in full operation. 

 The fire, and a sliver or two of lighted bog-fir, gave light 



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