UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 38, 14 February 1931, Page 2 (Supplement)

UNDER THE WHITE FLAG.

(By Jocelyn Lusher, 16, Patey Street, ..Renftiera; age 17.) "Kaytherc deathe than false of faythc." For a week the Covenanters had surrounded and laid siege to Glen Buehan. castle and for a week had my uncle held out against them, giving them back each day as good as they gave us, Till, atlast. they tired of losing men and gaining nothing and, on the morning of the, eighth day of the siege, a white flag of truce flew from their camp and the intermittent bursts of firing ceased and all was quiet; As soon as the white flag showed from' our keep also an ambassador from the; enemy came across our drawbridge, which was let down for him and was' brought up to where we waited oh the battlenients of the keep, under ..the; ■white flag and overlooking £he camp, of the Covenanters. • Ho was a boy of not more than nine-, teen, tall and well-built and dressed in the full Highland uniform of a ohieftaiu of Claii Cambell, his eyes were as dark as his hair, which was almost black; his face clear cut, strong and handsome, his whfcle bearing proud and somewhat arrogant. As he came .-©n to the battlements he saluted my uncle with

all respect due to tlio chief of Clan Buchan, and addressed to him, as laird of the castle, the terms which he had conic to propose, while my cousin, Kenneth and I, listened in silence to what he had to say. "If you will accept these: terms," finished the ambassador, "you. and the whole of your clan are free to go where you will without hindrance or molestation." "What guarantee have we?" asked Kenneth, "that your side of the terms will be observed, even if we agree to ours 1" The young Cambell swung round to face him, his eyes flashing haughtily, and when he spoke his voice cut like steel. "The word of a Cambell," jig said coldly, and his eyes travailed proudly down to the Cambell encampment at the foot of the keep. There was silence amongst us for a breathing space, then the young Cambell sprang wildly on to the parapet in front of my uncle with outspread arms as though to ward off a blow. At the sa.me moment a sharp report rang from the enemy's camp. A bullet sang in the still air and Bruce Cambell, heir to the great MacCailein Mor, Chief of Clan Cambell of Argylc, fell back into my arms, where he lay motionless for a moment, tlieii opened his eyes and spoke in eo faint a voice.that we could hai'dly hear what lie said. "The word—of a 'Cambell,'" he gasped brokenly, and all the pride had ebbed from him. "The word of a Cambell," he- repeated and his voice was no more than a sobbing whisper. His eyes, which looked into mine for a moment, were full of a nameless horror and disappointed broken pride. Then his head fell back suddenly and his hand, which had clutched my sleeve, lost its grip and dropped loosely to his side.

All the rest of that day and the next wo dealt heavily with the treacherous Cambell Covenantors, not so -midi for a broken word, or an unobserved 1 nice, ■but for the pain in the eyes of a dying enemy.