made him sit there without speaking,--could not he tell her any news after being sae long away from his gudewife and the weans?
When this question was put, Alaister was always sure the scold was over,however cross the voice was in which it was asked; so he began at onceto tell all the events of a harvest home at which he said he had beenthe night before, but he was at once stopped by an angry "Hout!" fromhis wife, and then followed a storm of abuse for telling her aboutthings which had happened three years before; then, pointing to thefields of green oats that were to be seen all around, she asked him whatsort of harvest home there could be at that time of year. Alaister wassorely puzzled, for certainly the corn was still green; but yet he feltsure it was only yesterday he had been at the harvest feast, and if notat that--where had he been? He could remember nothing of the wedding,and stared at his wife, who at last began to be alarmed at his perfectlystupid look, and said, "Is the man fey?" As soon as she said this, hisnight's adventure returned to his mind, and looking on the ground, hesaw it alive with fairies, laughing and mocking him. Had it beenearlier in the day, he would have run out of the house, but it wasnearly dark, and the uncomfortable Will-of-the-Wisp came into his mind,so he sank down again in his chair, and shut his eyes, fully determinednot to speak; but he could not keep this resolution. Again and again hewas impelled to begin stories, and as often was he told that thesethings had happened years before. He then tried to play, but couldremember none but the very oldest tunes, such as had been out of datefor many years, and when, wearied in mind and body, he fell asleep, hedreamed of fairies and discomforts all night long.
Next day he set out again on his wanderings, hoping that it was only inhis own house that the fairies would haunt him; but no--go where hewould they were by him, nor could he tell any story which was not atleast three years old. His former admirers, the women, now asked him,jeeringly, for "three-year-old news;" when he was seen coming towards afarm, he was treated almost as a beggar, and was sent to the back door,where he got a piece of oat-cake and a drink of milk, but was neverasked into the house. Occasionally the servants asked him why he didnot carry a wallet like other "puir bodies;" but Alaister, though oftenreally in want, never would condescend to a wallet. By degrees hebecame more and more impoverished; he was thin, and had a look of greatunhappiness. His hose hung over the heels of his worn shoes, from whichthe silver buckles had long since disappeared; his second-best kilt wasvery much the worse for wear, nor had he money to buy a new one; and asto the one he had worn on the night from which his woes dated, it hadeven beat the thrifty Mrs Mackinnon to get it into tolerable repairagain.
In all the country side it had become the common expression, when anyold story was told, "Hout! that's Piper's news;" and at last Alaister,feeling that he was despised where he had been respected, and laughed atby those at whom he had laughed, without even having a comfortable housein which to hide himself, for Mrs Mackinnon's tongue was more abusivethan ever, determined to retire from the world.
Being in low spirits, of course he chose the most dismal spot he couldfind; it was a bleak glen, down which the north wind howled in winter,and in summer the sun hardly reached its depths; for the bare rocks werehigh and near each other, so that it was always cold and damp. But thissuited Alaister's frame of mind. One chill day in autumn he crept intoa sort of hollow in the rock; there was a constant trickle, trickle,trickle, down the sides of this hole, and the water soaked throughblackened patches of liver-wort and moss; the floor was damp andslippery, and on it Alaister sat down to think how very uncomfortable hewas, and to abuse the fairies as the cause of all his misfortunes.
It grew colder and colder, and darker and darker, and Alaister beganhalf to repent of his determination to die in a cave, when a flash oflight shone into the hollow, and in an instant his old acquaintances,the three Will-of-the-Wisps, were dancing round him in a more frenziedway than ever; now they were up in the roof, now out in the open air,now far back in the darkness where he thought there was only rock. Butthe cave seemed to become larger every moment, and the water dried up asthe Will-of-the-Wisps darted along the sides, and then Alaister saw thewell-remembered tod's-tail moss hang where liver-wort had been before,and stag's-horn moss again covered the dark floor. The air felt dry andwarm, and a comfortable sleepy peace crept over the heart of thedistressed piper; he began to think that, on the whole, it was moreenjoyable to be in the fairies' cave than in a hay-loft on a gustyautumn night; and when the glittering band sparkled into their hall hesmiled, and offered to play to them again, and soon they were alldancing merrily on the moss, for it was now too cold, even for fairies,to spend the whole night in the woods.
Then came the feast, and this time Alaister was given on acorn cup fullof brightest mountain dew; and though he thought it a small allowancefor a full-grown man, still he knew that the little creatures had nolarger cups; and not to disappoint them or fail in his manners, henodded to the king, and with a "Here's your very gude health, sir,"emptied his cup. Immediately he sunk back on the floor and slept, forthe dew that had been given him has, it is said, wonderful powers,making mortals forget their homes and former lives, and desire only tobe with the fairies.
How long he slept no one can tell; he never more was seen: but on calmsummer nights his pipes can be heard droning under ground, or in thesweet birch wood. From their being heard to this day it is supposedthat those who enter the service of the fairies become immortal; but noone has ventured to watch the gambols of the "gude fouk," so as toascertain whether it is Alaister himself who still leads their march, orwhether another has succeeded him; indeed, the glen is more shunned thanever, and the cave goes by the name of the Piper's Cave in all thatdistrict, while the expression "Piper's news" is known over the wholeworld.
Story 9--CHAPTER ONE.
STORY NINE--THE GENIUS OF THE ATMOSPHERE.
High up on the side of a lofty mountain, overlooking the wide ocean,several boys were seated together on the moss and lichens which clothedthe ground, and were the only vegetable productions of that elevatedregion. The bright sea sparkled in sunshine, far, far down below theirfeet, though hidden at times from their sight by the dark clouds whichcame rolling on, sometimes enveloping them in mist, and at othersbreaking asunder and floating away far inland towards other ranges ofdistant hills. High above their heads rose a succession of ruggedpeaks, black, barren, and fantastic in form, which the foot of man hadnever trod. The boys on a party of pleasure had climbed up from a townby the sea-side, and had brought with them, in knapsacks and baskets, asupply of provisions, which they now sat down to discuss. The keen pureair, and the exercise they had undergone, sharpened their appetites andraised their spirits, and they sat laughing and talking, and apparentlyenjoying themselves to the utmost. Far below their feet sea-fowl wereskimming rapidly through the air, wheeling and circling, now descendingto the bright water below, and then rising again up into the clearexpanse of ether, rejoicing in their freedom. On a crag below them,near where she had built her nest, stood an osprey. With wingsexpanding she prepared to take her flight; then off with a cry of joyshe flew, darting through the atmosphere, away, away, over the ocean,looking down upon the tall ships which sailed along slow and sluggishlycompared to her rapid progress. The boys eagerly watched her till shewas lost to sight in the distance.
"Oh, how I wish that I could fly, that I might skim over the world likethat sea eagle!" cried one, clapping his hands; "what glorious fun wouldit not be? I should never consent to walk again. All other amusementswould be tame and tasteless in comparison. Truly yes, it mast be a finething to be able to fly like a bird. To fly!--to fly! Away!--away!"The speaker as he uttered these words rose and stretched out his armsover the ocean, as if in imagination at all events he was about tospring off from his lofty perch, and to follow the course of the osprey.
His enthusiasm inspired his companions. One after the other exclaimed--
"Yes, indeed, it would be grand to be able to fly. Glorious to mount upinto the sky, without havin
g tediously to climb up a hill as we havedone to-day; or to plunge down beneath the waves, like those wild fowl;or to skim, as they can, over the crests of the raging seas when stormsblow furiously, or to float in sunshine on the calm bosom of the ocean."
"Ay, of all things I would rather be a bird," cried another. "An eagle,a hawk, an albatross; any bird which can fly far and swiftly. That iswhat I should like,--to fly, to fly, to fly!" Thus one after the otherthey all expressed themselves.
Suddenly, as they were speaking, a loud crashing noise was heard, andas, alarmed, they turned their heads, the rocks behind them opened,disclosing a vast and glittering cavern, out of which was seen slowly toadvance, a lady, whose garments shone with a dazzling radiance. Herform was commanding, her face beautiful and benignant. The astonishedand bewildered boys
Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales Page 36