NEIL OF CLAN MUNRO.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIII, Issue XVII, 21 October 1899, Page 731

NEIL OF CLAN MUNRO.

By Calista Wilson.

Albeit I am but a simple Highland lad of humble consideration, yet so marvellous is the adventure through which I have this last year triumphantly passed that both my mother and my beloved chief Hector have bidden me set down an account of it for the benefit of those of my elan who shall come after me. I am the eldest of our bairns, and have ever been of an adventurous temper. and e’en in my babyhood would have come to fists with any gilly of another clan who had dared to infer to me that my clan was inferior to his own in honour. This temper and

an over-fond indulgence of my parents brought me into my youth with much independence of spirit. I was but a feckless lad of fourteen when my father led me with him on my first cattle-lifting, and ever after I must, forsooth, regard myself as a full-fledged clansman, and go about armed with my dirk and pistols and claymore.

So when there arose from the summit of Ben Wyvis the smoke of the signal fire for the gathering of our clan, and strapping Alaster Me Alester strode bra-wly up to our door with the news that the monster Cromwell was at the gates of Edinboro, it was I who carried on the fiery cross and must, perforce, then follow after the slogan beside my father, leaving bit Sannock to be the head of our house.

And thus it l»efell that 1. then but sixteen, was nevertheless numbered in that great army encamped on Doon Hill before Dunbar, when our General David Leslie was watching the terrible Cromwell over across the burn *• as a cat crouches at a mouse hole, sure of the mouse.*’

The journey over the hills to Edinboro behind the thrilling bagpipes had l>een a continual marvel to me even unto intoxication, but every wonder was as nothing when mine eyes beheld the veritable Ironsides of the mighty Cromwell about whom every gaberlunzie that ever came to our dachan told horrible and wondrous tales.

The Highland officer who mustered us in reproved my father for my vonth.

“It would be ill thought on,” said he. “ to semi a likely taiirn like that into the jaws of the English cannon.” and thereupon he took me to be his gilly. which was more well pleasing to my father than to my pride.

Our men suffered much from the cohl and wet. since they had no protection for themselves, but must- lie under the open sky of the bit trees, so it was a mighty relief to us when, about four o’clock on a wet day, our army began marching in fine order down the hill to prepare for an attack. All that evening till the gloaming fled into darkness, our troops were being marshaled into their new position. I was left on the hill among the camp guard. The night was wild and cold and sleety. Our men. who could scarce get a blink o’ rest, spent the night in prayers. Ay I but it was gruesome! The cold wind howled, the mighty roar of the sea thundered in our ears, and every heart was bodeful of the next day’s horrors. As for me, my yearning to be down there with my father was bursting my heart wellnigh out from under my plaid, as I shivered through the fearsome night.

With the first glimmer of morn, it was made plain to us that Cromwell had it in his head to get the whiphand o’ us. for we discerned the dark forms of his cavalry moving toward the pass over the burn, and e’en before our astonished men could scarce bestir themselves a rush of horse ami man was upon them. And thus was begun the woeful battleof Dunbar! And anon there was hideous confusion and smoke and roaring of cannon ; and horses and men in terrifying slaughter. And my father down there in the thick of it ! 1 flung myself down frantically and clawed the earth. I tore my hair in frenzy. 1 never one jot abated my madness : but none spent thought upon me. At last I noted that the din was over, and our army was flying toward Edinboro. I bounded down the hill and rushed among the slain. I sickened at the ghastly sights, but soon got hardened and stumbled on in frantic search for my father. E’en in the midst of the horror, I observed the first rays of the rising sun streaming over our thousands slain, and it seemed a most uncanny thing that the monster Cromwell and a band o his Ironsides stood in the midst c.. it all. singing the 117th Psalm in triumph of their victory. But 1 found not my father. Rushing toward a body of prisoners near the ford, in among them I plunged heedlessly. Then in great horror I discovered that an attempt to escape would be instant death. I had made myself one of the prisoners ! The guards forced me to give up my arms, and at that all the pride went out of me at the childish thing which I had done. And 1 found not my father, and

nevermore should find him. for one told me he had seen him fall. Then, indeed. I fell into a dazed and helpless state.

It would be needless harrowment of the feelings to relate the miseries heaped upon us as we marched across England to London. Hundreds died of the hardships. At last we were given to know that our fate was transportation. and a numerous company of us were driven down to a wharf and there packed like cattle on board the .Jane and Sarah, bound for New England. ’The ship’s vittle was poor beyond eating : the men were dour and sullen. As for me. the picture of my dead father, and of my mother and the bairns awaiting us. was ever before me. and 1 fell into sullen despair. However, in the end. somewhat of the manfulness 1 had ever affected '•ame upon me, and hope and sense began to abide with me. T said to myself :

“ Ye l>e but young. Neil, lad : bide a bit and get ye back to be the head o’ your father’s Im use. which now ve rightfully be.”

And verily I got myself info that state, wherein hardship seemed as nothing. so tight were my teeth set in my determination to do that thing. At last we arrived in a harbour of a little town in New England, which they call Boston. We east anchor off what I afterward knew well as the Battery. All that day we lay at anchor, and many persons gathered on the Battery ’ and the long wharf, and put out from the shore in boats, ami they stared upon us as though we had been wild beasts, which, doubtless, in our filthiness and despair, we resembled.

The next morning the ship’s boats took off a score of us and we rowed southward along the shore some

eight miles, where we landed at the foot of a hill, which they eall the ‘•.Mount." This hill has much celebrity among them on account of an unholy man named Morton, who once made merry there, dancing with his company .about a Map-pole, for whieh sin he got undone and sent home to England. All this, however, I learned afterward. Meanwhile, so great was the refreshment of once more setting foot on the earth, that we looped along in a way that mightily startled our guard: and when we came to Quincy’s Brook, whieh flows into the inlet, we could not restrain ourselves from leaping in, in spite of the cold of a raw November day. thereby putting our guards into much amazement at our desiring a swin e'en at the cost of marching in wet clothes, which thing, indeed, is little inconvenience to a Highlander. At about two miles from the sea we came upon a sight which was not at all unpleasing, and which was. indeed, our destination. In the midst of the forest which everywhere surrounded us, a hugh furnace was burning brightly, and beside it were two small houses, ami round about were ail the belongings of an iron foundry. I afterward learned that we had been sent over expressly for these iron works, which are established in divers places there, mainly by a man of great place named Winthrop. But I had remained at these works net much above a week when my master, having compassion on my youth, took me into the town and apprenticed me to a merchant, which change was greatly to my advantage, since it gave, me opportunity for getting books into my hand, and satisfying the gnawing- thirst I had f< r the learning of reading and writing, which 1 had already in little measure acquired in my home from my beloved chief Hector. I lived six months in the family of Goodman Strimford. During the very first week I was fortunate enough to render them a light service. which put me instantly into their affections. At a neighbours house-raising Isaac Strimford. a lad of some jourteen years, fell from the ridge of the house-frame, where he had dimed from mere frolicsomeness. I ran to the spot and received him on my own body, for which trifling cause they were p’eased to consider that I had saved the lad's life, ar 1 the entire family ever after treated me with an extraordinary kindness. My work was of all kinds, running- of errands, lading' of merchandise. and even assisting Mistress Strimford in the house ami carrying sons'.e bit Charity on my shoulders through the drifts le school. And ever in the evening, and at all possible times. 1 delved at my book at whieh I made such rapid progress as astonished me. Nevertheless, I grew ever lonelier and mor - yearning fol* a piggin’ o’ my mother s cream or a. quaff of our Highland tipenni. I felt ill at ease in Puritan breeks. and thei strict Puritan ways were exceeding wearisome to me-who had been bred a free Highlander. Ami what most humiliated me was that Scotchmen were not trusted to carryfirearms as were other men. and I could see that many looked askance at me as at a wolf without his teeth, indeed, but still with his nature; the more as I would not permit my head to be shorne after their custom, deeming it would be most shameful to return thus among my ow n. From my continual discontentment, 1 grew thin, and lost my native vigour. One spring afternoon 1 was looping through the woods, bent on a visit to my companions at the ironworks, when a. g-owk by the name of Hooper came upon me and accosted me pertly: “Hey. Swankie Longloeks! Whose business be ye speering into now?” said he. for he ever mock d at me. “Into mine own." 1 answered as pert. "and. peradventure. many a man's absence is the best o' company.'' And I would have passed on. but at exactly that moment we both discovered a hugh bear at some distance. staring lazily at us. I clutched my club, and looked enviously upon my comrade's musket, but he. in his Ktairtlem nt. somehow stumbled and got his piece discharged into his shoulder. I snatched Hooper's musket, and fiom his powder horn quickly reloaded it- The bear, however, evidently not being hungry, strolled slowly off. 1 now turned to Hooper, whom I found seriously hurt. I was in great terror, and try com-

panion e’en in a greater, 1 lit tea him doucely and rallied him a few paces, whereiijMm he fell into a swoon. Knowing well I could not. unassisted, get him into tne town, I placed him as comfortably as might l»e upon the earth and sat me down beside him.

1 was now in the direst distress. However, after some two hours a squad of Indians from the friendly settlement at Neponset came upon us. 1 soon made them understand my dilemma, and they, with great kindness. speedily set about fashioning a litter of boughs, whereupon we placed the wounded man and set oft* with him into the town. Upon our arrival the people gathered about us mightily. and I observed many suspicious looks cast upon me. “It shall be rightly inquired upon by the magistrate.” explained one significantly. thereupon throwing me into a new terror.

This speech and their unfriendly manner toward me cast me into my habitual silence, for I had ever a habit of giving my tongue more holidays than my head, and 1 would explain nothing, but hastened home, there to relate my misadventure. I had. however, been not above a dozen minutes in the house when Isaac rushed in upon us in great excitement.

“Come. instantly. Neil.” he exclaimed. “lose not a moment!” And he hurried me out of the house and e’en out of the town, and lack over the self-same road that I had just travelled, and stopped not till we were well into the wood. Then, as we trudged on. he explained to me that on account of the unfriendliness between us. it was got about that I had murdered Hooper, and a warrant was being issued for my immediate arrest. “Perchance I be daft, Isaac, but I cannot understand that,” said T in great amaze. “Do not callants jeer at one another in this country without murder?” “Assuredly.” Isaac said, sadly ; “but our people do not trust the

Scotsmen, and 1 much misdoubt me of the issue. You must hide, Neil, for a little.” The brave, douce lad conducted me rapidly toward Neponset. He left me outside the Indian settlement, while he went alone and hunted out one Winnipin. who was known to us both, and brought him unto me. He had instructed him concerning our difficulties, and begged him to keep me in hiding for a few days. Then with a hard grip at my hand and a choking good-by. he disappeared into the woods. Winnipin took me in a canoe across the river to a place called Squantum, and having got m-e to his wigwam, he bade his squaw—so these people call their women—set before me pease and deer meat. "Eat big!” he grunted: “if white boy die Winnipin get Scotch boy into ship. Winnipin foxy!” Which, in no measure, assuaged my dismal forebodings.

I had no fear with Winnipin. for I experienced ever great friendliness toward these strange people they call Indians, as being somewhat like our own Highlanders in their dress and free customs, but T could not eat. for I was cast into the most nelpless despair.

“Flee fast as ye may,” I reflected, “your fortune will be at your tail,” and pictured as the end of my ambitions. a gibbet with myself dangling thereon.

And T then began to fear more for my young master than for myself, until by the afternoon of the following day my fear grew even into a fever, and seizing my opportunity. I slipped from the wigwam and got me acirqss the river in Winnipin’s canoe, which I ungratefully abandoned on the hither side of the stream. Then I hastened into the town, arriving- there somewhat before the gloaming. I had no sooner got among the people than they began shouting- after me, even attempting to lay hands on me, which I stoutly forbade. And learning from their clampur that my dear

young master was in prison for refusing to reveal my hiding-place, in my great madness thereat, I hastened to the house of the magistrate. where I heeded not the council about him, among whom 1 observed my master, but plunged headlong in among them and demanded if Isaac Strimford were verily in prison. “Aye, that he be.” replied the justice sternly, and with that I fell upon my knees at his feet and implored h i in:

“Oh. my master! I did not kill John Hoo[>er; but ye may hang me, an’ ye will, if ye but set free my gude young master.” And then there returned upon me all the childishness I believed to have left behind me, and I wailed like a wee bit bairn.

“Nay, I can never be a gude lad here, and I shall never get to mine ain again,” and all the life went out of me.

I knew nothing again till manj days after, when I awoke to find myself in Mistress Strimford’s guestbed. with all the family lovingly about me. And they told me how the lad Hooper had not died, and on recovering had made me a great hero, as having saved his life, and all the feeling of the town which had surged against me was now but sorrowfulness for my fate. And they had it managed whereby I was in two weeks to sail in the Queen for London, and get me home again, where I might once more be a “gude lad” among mine ain again. And so it befalls that I am once again free upon my beloved native hills, at. the head of my father’s house, and a favourite clansman beside my glorious chief Hector. And also. having brought home with me the long and sorrowful list of my companions on the Jane and Sarah, whieh. by the magistrate’s permission. I laboriously copied, we hope we shall, by means of it, be able to assist many of them unto their deliverance.

And oft and oft my beloved chief Hector, with his eyes fixed in affection upon me, queries gravely: “And suppose, Neil, laddie, ‘ the Puritan youth Hooper had flitted awa’