Chapter 7. The Sailor's Story

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. THE SAILOR'S STORY

Norman having done nothing to tire himself, thought he should like best to play outside the cottage instead of going in to rest. He followed his sister, therefore, in a discontented mood.

Old Alec begged Fanny to sit down in his arm-chair near the table, on which he placed the bird-cage, so that she could see it, and watch its little occupant hopping about, while it now and then uttered its sweet song. He offered a stool to Norman, who sat down with his hat on looking very grumpy and somewhat angry. Old Alec, however, did not appear to remark this, but busied himself in pouring out some cups of milk, which he brought to Fanny and him, and then offered them the bannock of which he had spoken.

"You see that Robby and I are not all alone," he observed, as he pointed round the room to the birdcages. "I like to listen to their talk more than I do to what many of my fellow-creatures say. It always seems to me that birds are praising God, when I hear them singing, and that is more than many people do, when they talk. But perhaps, young lady, you think it is cruel in me to keep them shut up, when they might be flying about in freedom amid the woods and over the moors; I think I should be cruel, if I took them after they had been accustomed to a free life, but every one of those birds has been brought up from a fledgling. I have never taken more than one or two from the same nest, and in truth have saved the lives of most of them which would otherwise have been killed by careless boys or cats or dogs, or shot by the farmers who think they rob them of their grain. Here they have air and sunlight and food and the company of their kind, and are safe from danger, and if I part with them, I know that they go into kind hands. But I must show you my oldest friend; I keep him in another room, as he is apt to talk too much, and my little songsters there don't understand him. I got him from foreign lands years ago, and he and I have never parted company."

"Oh, I should so like to see the bird," said Fanny. "Can we come and look at him?"

"I will bring him in here, young lady," answered old Alec, opening a door which led to an inner room.

He quickly returned with a bird on his wrist, and Fanny thought she had never seen one of more beautiful colours. Most of its plumage was of the richest scarlet, while the top of its head was of a deep purple. On its breast was a broad yellow collar; the wings were green, changing to violet towards the edges, and while the feathers on its thighs were of a lovely azure, those of the tail were scarlet, banded with black and tipped with yellow. Its beak which by its shape showed that the bird was a species of parrot, was of a deep rich yellow.

"I got this from the coast of New Guinea," said old Alec. "It is a very hot country, and I always keep my pet as warm as I can, for fear of its catching cold. I call it 'Lory with the purple cap.' Speak to the lady," said old Alec, stroking the head of the beautiful bird which walked up and down his arm for a minute, and then stopping and looking at Fanny, greatly to her delight said very clearly, "Good morning, pretty one."

The bird repeated the sentence two or three times, and then mounting to the top of its master's head cried out "Pipe all hands, hoist away boys, belay there!" Then as if satisfied with its nautical performance, descended to old Alec's hand, and sang two or three tunes very distinctly.

"Lory can say a great deal more than you have heard, but he is not always in the humour to talk, though he is an obedient bird, and generally does what I tell him. Ah, Miss Fanny, I am very fond of my Lory, he is as good as he is beautiful, yet in the land from which he comes, there are birds still more beautiful than he is, with long tails which glitter in the sun like jewels, and crests on their heads which I doubt if the crown of our queen can beat, and when their wings are spread out and they are flying through the air or dancing on the tips of the trees, they look as if they could scarcely belong to this earth. They are called Birds of Paradise. To my mind the name is a very proper one, though strange to say the people who live in the country where they are found, are as perfect savages as any in the world--black-skinned fellows with the hair of their heads frizzled out, and scarcely a rag of clothing on. I had once the misfortune to be wrecked on their shore, and it's a wonder to me that I got away with my life, for they generally kill all strangers who fall into their hands; yet savage as most of them are, they are not all alike.

"The ship I was on board, was sailing along the coast of New Guinea, when she was caught in one of the hurricanes which sometimes blow in those seas. Away she flew before the fierce winds, the waves hissing and leaping up on either side of her, and threatening to break on board and send her to the bottom. The captain did his best, and so did every man belonging to her, but after we had shortened sail, and sent down our loftier spars and secured the remaining ones, there was nothing more we could do. All we could hope for was that the hurricane would abate before we neared the shore.

"That night was indeed a terrible one, few of us ever expected to live through it.

"When daylight broke the shore was seen not a league off, with lofty mountains rising in the distance. Still the hurricane continued, the ship drove on, and no break could be discovered in the long line of wild surf which burst on the shore. As there were many coral reefs running along the whole coast, we expected every moment that the ship would strike, and we knew that the fierce waves which would dash against her would soon knock her to pieces.

"A boat could scarcely live in such a sea, still less get through the foaming surf. Most of the men however, had put on their best clothes and filled their pockets with whatever they most valued, hoping somehow or other to get safe to land. I thought to myself, it matters little what I have on, and I would not weight my pockets with what would send me to the bottom, so I continued in my trousers and shirt and jacket, intending to throw off the last should I have to swim for my life.

"The awful moment we were expecting came, and the ship with a tremendous crash, was sent right against a reef of coral rocks, which in an instant forced their way through her planking, and let the water rush in like a mill-stream. At the same moment down came all the three masts, while the sea swept over her, carrying away several of our poor fellows. We could do nothing to help them, for we could not help ourselves. Most of our boats were crushed by the falling masts. The captain ordered the only uninjured one to be lowered, I with a few others did our best to obey him, though there seemed no chance that a boat could live a minute in such a sea--it was, however, better to trust to her than stay on board the ship, against which the waves were dashing so furiously, that we expected her every moment to go to pieces, when we should all be cast into the foaming waters, with the pieces of wreck dashing around us, and coming down upon our heads.

"Another man and I were ordered into the boat to unhook the falls, as the tackle is called by which the boat is lowered. Just as we had got into her a tremendous sea came roaring up, and striking the ship, broke over her and the boat, and very nearly washed us out. A loud noise was heard of the crashing and rending of the timbers and planks, above which rose the cry of our shipmates. Three or four leaped into the boat after us, and we got her clear of the ship, which seemed suddenly to melt away. We had got our oars out, and now pulled away for our lives--how the boat escaped, and how she kept afloat in that tremendous sea seemed a wonder then as it does now. We had four oars, and the first mate, who was saved, took the helm. To return to the wreck to try and save any of our drowning shipmates was impossible, and it seemed equally impossible that we should reach the shore through the boiling surf we saw before us. Closer and closer we were borne to it--when just as we had given up all hope of saving our lives, the mate declared that he had discovered an opening through which we might pass. He steered towards it, the surf rose like a wall on either side, but there was a narrow passage where the water was smoother. We pulled with all our might, and in a few minutes found ourselves in the mouth of a river. After rowing a short distance, we were in perfectly smooth water. The river which widened out greatly was bordered on either side by curious-looking trees, which seemed to have branches growing downwards as well as upwards, with the stem between them. These are what are called Mangrove trees.

"On we rowed, but could find no place where we could land. At last we came to the mouth of a smaller river which ran into the larger one. After going some way, we saw an open space on the shore covered with what looked in the distance like a number of bee-hives standing on posts several feet above the ground. On getting nearer, we discovered that they were houses, and that a number of ugly black-looking fellows were moving about among them. As they saw us they gathered on the bank, flourishing their bows and spears, showing, as we feared, that they would very likely kill us if they got us into their power. Some of our people proposed pulling back, but where were we to go to? We were faint from hunger and thirst, we had not seen a spot where we could land to obtain food, and we had the raging sea barring the mouth of the river. We were caught in a trap, we had no arms to defend ourselves with, and our only chance, therefore, was to make friends with the savages.

"'Come lads,' said the mate, 'we will try what we can do--they may not be as bad as they look.'

"He stood up in the boat, and spread out his hands wide to show that we had no arms, then he stretched out one hand as if to shake those of the black people, then he took off his hat, and waved it and bowed to them, indeed he did everything he could think of, to show them that we wanted to be friendly.

"While he was doing this, I and another man, feeling our tongues parched with thirst, could not help leaning over the side of the boat to take up some water in our hands, for even though we supposed that it was salt, it would at all events moisten our lips. It was less salt than we expected, and soon all of us, as well as the mate, was lapping away at the water, while, to cool our heads, we threw some of it over them. What was our surprise, while we were so employed, to see the natives stoop down and sprinkle their own heads with water, in the same fashion. Having done this, they placed their bows and spears on the ground, and beckoned us by signs which we could not mistake to approach.

"'We must chance it, lads,' said the mate, 'it is better to be killed outright by the blacks, than die by inches from hunger and thirst. I am ready to step on shore first, and you may shove off, and wait till you see what becomes of me.'

"'I will go with you, sir,' I exclaimed, 'and share whatever fate befalls you.'

"All, on this, agreed to do the same.

"Giving way again, we were soon close up to where the savages stood. We all jumped out except one man, who remained to take care of the boat, and stepped boldly in among the blacks, putting out our hands to show that we wished to be friends. They seemed to understand what we meant, and several of their chief men shook our hands in return; when we made signs that we were hungry and thirsty, four or five of them ran off, and quickly returned with some water in calabashes, and some baskets with cooked meat and yams. The people seemed to live in plenty, for we saw a number of funny little pigs running about, and two or three girls carrying them in their arms and talking to them, and caressing them, just as an English girl does her doll. We were too hungry, however, just then to think of that, or anything else, and sitting down on the grass, fell to on the provisions the blacks had brought us. The food soon restored our spirits, and we began to hope that things would not be as bad as we expected. Still, we could not help thinking of our poor shipmates who had remained on the wreck, and whom we felt sure must all have been drowned. The people too, seemed not so ill-looking, and much more good-natured, than we had at first thought.

"Their hair was frizzled out, and they had earrings and necklaces, but very little clothing, except a petticoat of long grass or leaves round the waist. They were not black either, but rather a dark chocolate colour, with broad long noses, with the tips hooking down almost over the upper lip.

"Their houses are curious. First they were built on posts, on the top of which the flooring was placed. On each post below the flooring was a large flat disc, this was to prevent the snakes and rats from getting into the houses. Above the flooring, after the poles had risen some distance, they were bent over and covered thickly with grass or cocoanut leaves. Some were small, and others as much as twenty feet long and twelve feet wide. They had no doors, but were entered by a trap through the flooring.

"As there are numerous snakes in the country, the steps or ladder by which the trap is reached does not go up to it, but only rises from the ground for a sufficient height to enable a person to lift himself in by his elbows. The upper part of this curious ladder consists merely of a polo resting on two forked sticks, and a plank with one end leaning on it and the other on the ground. When a person wants to get into his house he runs up the plank, and is then high enough to reach the entrance of the trap.

"I told you how we happened to throw water on our heads, and then saw the natives doing the same. This we afterwards found was the very sign they use to show that they wish to be on good terms; and so it happened, that without knowing it we did the right thing, and at once gained their friendship.

"They treated us very kindly, and though they had no notion of working for us, they showed us how to build a house for ourselves after their fashion.

"We hauled up our boat and thatched her over, to keep her from the sun, for we, of course, hoped to escape in her when we had collected enough provisions for a voyage. The natives, however, had no intention of letting us go, for they believed that we benefited them by living among them. Though they did not treat us as slaves, they made us, as I have said, work for our livelihood. It was not hard work, but the sun was very hot, and we, all of us, often felt ill, and unable to do anything, but lie down in the shade in our houses.

"First one of my companions died, and then another, and another, till the mate and I alone remained. We buried the poor fellows, and felt very sad when we put the last into the ground. We could not help thinking that one of us would go next, but which it would be, we could not tell. I daresay the mate looked at my sallow face and thought I should die first, and as I looked at his, I fancied he had not many weeks to live.

"We had got ground under cultivation, and as we had now only two to eat its produce, and the natives had given us some pigs, we had plenty of provisions. If we had had salt, we should have killed some of our pigs and salted them down, but though we were near salt water, there were no rocks, or any flat place where we could manufacture salt.

"Day after day we talked about getting away, and indeed, it was the only subject we could talk of. We had no sail in the boat, so the first thing we had to do was to make one. The natives, like most of the people in those parts, manufactured fine mats; these would answer for what we wanted, but the difficulty was to get them. We could now make ourselves understood, so under the pretence that we wanted them for bedding, we obtained several in exchange for most of our pigs, and yams, and other produce of our garden.

"We tried drying some of the pigs' flesh in the sun, but that did not answer, we next tried smoking it, but it was very dry, and tasted strongly of the smoke; still, we hoped that it would last us till we could get to one of the Dutch settlements. The mate warned me that even should we get away, we should have many dangers to encounter, from tempests, and from pirates, which cruise with large fleets in those seas, and from having no chart or compass, with which to find our way.

"As we had much idle time, I amused myself by collecting birds, of which there are a great number in the country; birds of paradise, and parrots of many colours, and among them a big black parrot, a magnificent fellow, and others, even more beautiful than my pet, Lory, which I got at that time. Our house was like an aviary, and the mate, though he did not know how to tame them himself, liked to see me do so.

"At last we found our friends were setting out to make war on another tribe. They wanted us to go with them, but we told them we were too ill to march, and so we were, and I do not think we could have walked half-a-mile.

"They were all very busy in preparing their bows and arrows and spears and clubs, and allowed us to do as we liked. We took the opportunity of examining our boat, and patching her up. As we knew she would leak, we brought water from the river and dashed it over her as often as we could, and then we smoothed the way down the bank, so that we might launch her, for though when all the crew were alive we had strength to haul her up, we should never otherwise by ourselves have got her into the water. We also killed another pig, and smoked the flesh, and collected a quantity of yams and other roots and fruits in our house.

"Our friends at last set out to fight their enemies, leaving only very old men and some of the women and children behind.

"We had sewn our mats together to form a sail, and the mate cut a long spar for a mast.

"The night was fine, and we hoped that we should get out of the river without danger from the breakers. We waited till everybody in the village was asleep, and then stole down to the boat, carrying our sail and spar and provisions. We had to make several trips, but at last we had collected everything, and as silently as we could we got the boat into the water. The last time I brought down my Lory and three other birds. I was afraid, however, that they would scream out, but still I could not bring myself to leave them all behind.

"We shoved off, and managed to drop slowly down the stream without making any noise. As soon as we got out of hearing of the village we began to row faster, though we had but little strength to use our oars. Our great wish was to be out of the river, and at a distance from the shore before daylight, lest any of the natives in their canoes might fall in with us. We rowed as hard as we could, till our oars were nearly dropping from our hands. After a long pull we got near the mouth of the river--the land breeze was blowing out of it. We hoisted our mat sail, and now glided on more rapidly than before. I do not think we could have rowed another ten minutes. The surf was breaking on the shore, but we passed safely through the passage.

"How thankful we felt when we found ourselves at last in the open sea. A line of white foam showed us where the reef was on which our ship had struck, but not a vestige of her remained.

"The mate judged it best to steer to the southward, but we had no chart and no compass, and had to trust to the sun by day and the stars by night. The mate knew them well, but I began to fear that he would not be long with me, for the exertions he had made had been too much for him. By the time morning had dawned he was unable to sit up. As long as he could he steered the boat, while I baled, for, notwithstanding the care we had taken, she still leaked very much. I looked anxiously at my companion every time I lifted up my head, still he kept his eye on the rising sun, which in a deep red glow appeared above the horizon. Then he gazed up at the sail, and then ahead. Gradually his hand let go of the tiller, his head fell down on his chest. I sprang aft, when, to my grief and dismay, I found that the poor fellow was dead.

"I had now not only to steer the boat, but to bale her. How could I hope by myself to reach any friendly shore? I began to be sorry that we had left the native village, the people were at all events kind to us, and some day or other traders might have come to the place and taken us off. It was too late now, though, to think of this. I could not have gone back even if I had wished it, for the wind was against me, and I had not strength to use the oars. I looked at the poor mate, and tried to pour some water down his throat, but it was of no use, he was really dead. For some time I had not the heart to throw him overboard, but I knew that it must be done, and at last I managed to accomplish the sad act.

"I was now all alone in the boat. As the sun rose the wind fell, and it became perfectly calm. As the sail was of no use, I lowered it. Still I had to bail, for the water continued to leak through the seams. The hot sun came down on my head and nearly roasted me. Fortunately I had manufactured a straw hat, with a thick top, this very one you see me wear, it assisted to save my head, and I value it as a friend which has done me service.

"Well, I must cut my yarn short. Day after day I sailed on. When it was calm I hauled down my sail and went to sleep, for the leaks in the boat lessened by degrees, and at last I was saved the trouble of baling. I began, however, to think that I should never get to land. The meat we had brought turned so bad that I could not eat it, the roots and fruits lasted me better, and assisted to feed the birds, but they were also coming to an end. Without them I knew that I could not preserve my birds, so very unwillingly, I killed my big black parrot. I had no means of lighting a fire, so I had to eat the bird raw; but a hungry man is not particular.

"I should have said that we had stowed our water in a number of gourds, but I had already emptied most of them, and I dreaded the time when my stock would come to an end, for I knew that without it, I could not live many days. Under the burning sun of that region, water is the chief necessary of life, my birds too, required as much as I did. I anxiously looked out for land. I made but slow progress, for the weather was unusually calm, and sometimes the wind was contrary. Thus, I could not tell how long it might be before I could reach a friendly harbour. I had to kill another and another of my birds, till at last only my pretty Lory remained. He was so tame that he would come and sit on my shoulder while I was steering, and put his beak into my mouth, and talk to me. He was my only companion you see, and I fancied he could understand what I said, and I was sure he was very fond of me. I would rather have done anything than kill him, still I was getting very faint and weak, and I could scarcely crawl from the stern to the mast to lower the sail when I wanted to get to sleep. At last I had but a pint of water remaining and only a yam or two. I steered on as long as I could, when I felt my head bending down to my breast. I knew that I could not keep awake many minutes longer, so I lowered my sail and lay down to go to sleep. I felt that it was very likely I should never wake again, or if I did that it would be only to lie down and die. Evening was coming on, I suffered generally less at night than in the day-time, because it was cooler. I slept on and on; I was completely exhausted. At length, I was awoke by Lory putting his beak into my mouth; I opened my eyes. The sun had already risen, and a fresh breeze was blowing. I dragged myself to the mast, and hoisted the sail, and then made my way to my seat aft. I had scarcely got there, when I saw nearly ahead, a large vessel crossing my course. I eagerly steered towards her; I hoped and prayed that I might be seen by those on board, and my heart beat with anxiety lest I should not be observed. Every moment I drew nearer and nearer, but still I knew that when she got the breeze, she would rapidly sail away from me. In my eagerness, I tried to shout, but my voice sounded weak and hollow. My heart bounded with joy, when I saw the ship's course brailed up, and she hove to, showing that I was seen. I was soon alongside, but I was too weak to do more than just lower my sail, and sink into the bottom of the boat, just as a couple of seamen from the stranger jumped into her. I was scarcely conscious of what else happened. When I came to myself, I found Lory perched on my hammock looking at me, and I was told that I was on board the _Ringdove_, and that after she had touched at a few of the East India Islands, she was homeward bound. I was treated very kindly till I got well, and then as I had no wish to be idle, I told the captain I was ready to work with the crew.

"We had several passengers on board, and one of them who was a naturalist, and had been out to these regions to collect birds and creatures of all sorts, offered to buy Lory, but though he was ready to give a large sum, I would not part with my friend. Lory came safely home with me, for I took great care of him, and when we got into northern latitudes, I kept him always out of the cold and damp.

"So, Miss Fanny, you have the history of my pet."

"Oh, how I wish you had been able to bring the other birds home," said Fanny. "I should so like to have seen them."

"Well, Miss, I tell you it went against my heart to kill them, but when a man is suffering from hunger, his nature seems changed, but I often used to think afterwards, how I could have killed the pretty creatures."

"I am very much obliged to you, for the account you have given me, and I should like another day to hear as many more of your adventures as you can tell me, for I daresay that is not the only one you have met with."

"No, indeed, Miss Fanny, I could tell you many more, and will try and recollect them for you when next you come."

Norman had been almost as much interested as his sister in the old sailor's story, wondering in what part of the world the adventures took place, for although, as he boasted, he had come all the way from India, he had a very slight knowledge of geography.

Rob by had all the time been outside playing with the little carriage, and thinking how nice it would be if he could have one like it to drag to market with his grandfather, and bring back the things they bought.

Just as old Alec had finished his story, a stranger arrived. He was a drover, who went round the country to purchase the cottagers' cattle, picking up here one and there one, or taking a hundred at a time from the more wealthy proprietors.

"I am somewhat in a hurry," he said, "but if you have any beasts to dispose of, I daresay that I shall be able to offer you a price you will be ready to take."

As old Alec could not detain the drover, he begged Fanny and her brother to wait till his return that he might accompany them part of the way home.

While he and the drover went out to look at the cattle, Fanny took up her bird with its cage, and thought how much it would like to enjoy the fresh air and sunlight.

"I am not going to stay here any longer," said Norman, and he ran out to join little Robby in playing with the carriage.

Fanny followed with the bird-cage, and seeing the two boys amusing themselves, went on talking to the bird, which as she thought whistled to her in return.

"What are you doing with my cart?" exclaimed Norman, turning to Robby.

He was not in a good humour, he considered that old Alec ought to have given a bird to him as well as to Fanny, and was inclined to vent his ill-feeling on poor little Robby. Robby, who did not understand that he was angry, without replying, taking out the two apples which he had put back into the carriage, held them up to Norman wishing to offer them to him.

"Where did you get those from?" exclaimed Norman.

"I thought you would like to have them, young master," said Robby, "I brought them back for you."

Norman instead of saying that he was much obliged, not wishing at the moment to eat any fruit and feeling very angry, knocked them out of the little boy's hands.

Robby was too much astonished even to offer to pick them up as they lay on the ground.

"I am tired of waiting for that old man," said Norman, taking the pole of the carriage; "Fanny come along."

Fanny was too much occupied with her bird to hear him, and Norman began to drag off the carriage.

Robby thinking that he had no business to run off with it, on the impulse of the moment seized the hinder part of it, and attempted to stop him.

"Please don't go away, young master, till grandfather comes back," he said, "he wants to go with you. Miss Fanny, O Miss Fanny, won't you tell your brother to stop?"

"Let go the carriage," cried Norman, now more angry than ever, especially at finding that though Robby was so little, his sturdy arms and legs were able to prevent him from drawing on the carriage. "If you do not let go, I will give you such a box on the ears, as you never before have had in your life."

Little Robby, who had a spirit of his own, was not to be daunted by the threats of Master Norman.

Fanny had by this time got to some distance, or she would have heard what her brother was saying and have interfered.

Norman again cried out and threatened Robby, but still the little fellow held on tightly, while he pulled back. Norman tugged and tugged in vain to get on. At last he stopped pulling, and threatened to beat Robby well if he would not let go. Robby looked up at him, and shook his head. Norman at that moment turning round gave a sudden tug at the pole, and started off at full speed. The jerk had the effect of making poor little Robby lose his hold, and back he fell with his legs in the air, and his hands stretched out, while Norman scampered on, turning his head round to laugh at him maliciously.

"I told you you had better not!" he shouted. "Now you have got your desert, you will not attempt to play tricks with me again, you young monkey! ah! ah! ah!" and he laughed and jeered at poor little Robby.

"Come along, Fanny," he cried out, "I am not going to stop longer for the old man."

Fanny though she heard his voice did not understand what he said, and still thought that he and Robby were playing amicably together. She went on talking to her bird which at that moment was to her of more importance than anything else.

Norman, not looking to see whether she was coming, scampered off, dragging the carriage behind him, and believing that he knew the way as well as she did.

Robby soon got up, and felt more vexed at the way he had been treated by the young master, than hurt by his tumble. Fanny had gone round into the garden, where she sat down on a bench in the shade, and planed her bird by her side, quite unaware of what had happened. The bird, which was unusually tame, seemed from the first to understand that she was to be its future mistress. It came at once to the bars of the cage, and put out its beak to receive the seed with which old Alec had provided her, that she might feed it. She would have liked to have taken it out of its cage that it might perch on her fingers, but she thought that would not be wise, in case it might take it into its head to fly off for an excursion, and perhaps not be willing to return to captivity.

"I wonder what name I shall give you," she said, talking to the bird. "Old Alec did not tell me if you have got one. Shall I call you Dickey, Flapsey, or Pecksy? I must have a name for you. Perhaps granny will help me to find one. What name would you like to be called by, pretty bird? I wonder what are the names of birds; I know that parrots are called Poll and Pretty Poll, and jackdaws and magpies Jack and Mag, but such names would not do for you. I want something that sounds soft and pretty just like yourself." Thus she ran on, and the time went by till at last old Alec returned to the cottage, and not finding her there, came into the garden to look for her.

"Why, Miss Fanny, what has become of your little brother?" he inquired.

"Is not he playing with Robby on the other side of the house?" asked Fanny, somewhat astonished.

"I can neither see him nor Robby," answered old Alec. He shouted out, "Robby! Robby!" but received no answer.

"It seems very strange," said Fanny; "I heard them playing happily together not long ago."

At last old Alec went round the house and again shouted. A faint cry came from a distance, and he saw Robby running towards him.

"What is the matter?" asked old Alec, as soon as Robby got up to him.

"The young master went off with the carriage, and I ran after him to call him back, and instead of going towards home, he has taken the way to the peat bog. I called to him to stop, but he only went faster, and so I came back to get you, grandfather, to follow him, for if he once tumbled in I could not help him out again."

"You are a wise boy, Robby," answered his grandfather. "Miss Fanny, if you will stay here I will go and look after the young gentleman, for if he tumbles into the bog he will not get out again without help. There is no danger, only we must not lose time."

Saying this, old Alec hurried off in the direction from which Robby had appeared.

Fanny for a moment forgot all about her bird which she had put down in its cage on the window-sill, and ran after old Alec. He strode on at a rapid rate, so that she had a difficulty in overtaking him. After some time she heard him shouting, "Stop, boy, stop!" and saw him waving with his hand.

Again he went on even more eagerly than before.

Fanny, who had just then reached a rise in the ground, caught sight of Norman, some way off in the hollow below her, floundering about and holding on to the cart, towards which Alec, yet at a little distance, was making his way. The old man had to do so cautiously, for as the ground was very soft, he sank at each step he made above his ankles; but Norman, being much lighter, had passed over places which would not bear his weight.

As she got near she heard Norman crying lustily for help, and she began to fear that before old Alec could reach him, he might sink below the soft yielding earth. Just then she heard a shout behind her, and, looking round, she observed little Robby approaching with a long thin pole on his shoulder. He was quickly up with her.

"Don't go farther, Miss," he said, "you will be sticking in the bog, too, if you do; we will soon get out the young master."

Robby quickly joined his grandfather, and by placing the long pole on the top of the hog, Robby was able to make his way over the peat with a rope.

"Here, young master!" he exclaimed, "catch hold of the pole and crawl along it as I do, and you will soon be out of the bog."

Norman, though at first too much frightened to do anything but shout and struggle, at last comprehended what Robby said, and following his advice, crawled along the pole. He soon got on firmer ground.

Robby then went back and fastened the rope to the carriage, which old Alec was thus able without much difficulty to drag out of the bog.

Fanny soon recovered from her alarm.

"What made you run there?" she asked, as Norman, wet and muddy, came up to her, looking very foolish and very angry too.

"It was all your fault," he answered; "I wanted to go home, and I told you that I did not want to wait for the old man, or to play any more with the stupid little boy, and if you had come when I called you, I should not have got into this mess."

"If it had not been for the old man and the little boy you would have been suffocated in the bog," answered Fanny; "you ought to be very grateful to them for saving you, and see what trouble they are taking to get the carriage out."

"I won't be lectured by you," answered Norman, "and I will go home as soon as I can get the carriage. The old man will be scolding me if I stop here, because I upset his little grandson, and I do not choose to submit to that."

"Nonsense, you foolish boy," answered Fanny, "if you remain in your wet clothes you will catch cold, and mamma and granny will be much more angry with you than old Alec is likely to be."

"I daresay they will if you go and tell them that I ran away from you, and you always take pleasure in getting me into scrapes."

"O Norman, how can you say that?" exclaimed Fanny, "you know I am always anxious to prevent you from being punished. Here come old Alec and Robby with the carriage. I hope that you will thank them for pulling you out of the bog, and that you will go in (should old Alec ask you) to get your clothes dried before we set off. I am very thankful you have escaped, but I am afraid we shall not be allowed to come again by ourselves over the moor to visit the cottage. The first time I tumbled down and wetted my clothes, and now you are in a worse plight, for your clothes are all muddy and spoilt, and you might have lost your life if old Alec had not come to help you."

This Norman would not acknowledge, but declared that he could have got out very well by himself. Notwithstanding what Fanny had said, he still insisted on returning home at once.

"Oh no, you must come back and have your clothes dried, as Mr Morrison wishes you," she said.

"As you, Miss Fanny, think that your brother ought to go back, there is a very easy way of settling the matter," said Alec; and before Norman know what was going to happen, the old man tucked him under his arm and carried him along as a farmer sometimes carries a refractory pig, while Robby followed with the carriage. In vain Norman shrugged and grumbled, and squeaked out.

Alec soon had him seated on the bench before his kitchen fire, which he made blaze merrily up. He then quickly took off his clothes, and wrapped him up in a clean shirt, and his Sunday coat.

"The clothes won't take long drying, young gentleman, and you must have patience till they are dry," he observed; "the shoes, however, will be somewhat tight, even if they are at all fit to be put on again, but that won't matter, as you can sit in the carriage while I drag you."

Norman now sat quietly, for he hoped that if his clothes were clean, no one at home would hear of his misconduct.

"You will not go and tell them that I ran away, will you Fanny?" he asked, looking round at her as she sat near the table with her bird.

"I cannot make any promise," she answered; "I am, however, very sure that you ought to tell them how Mr Morrison and little Robby pulled you out of the bog."

"I would not wish the young gentleman to say anything to get himself into trouble, but at the same time, I would wish him to speak the truth, whatever happens," observed old Alec.

Norman did not reply to her, but muttered to himself, "she cares more for her bird than she does for me, but I will take care she has not much pleasure from it."

Fanny did not overhear this, and had no idea that her new little friend was in danger from the jealousy of her brother.

As it was already late, as soon as Norman's clothes were dried old Alec put them on him again, with Fanny's assistance, and little Robby having in the meantime washed the carriage, they were ready to start. Robby, as before, had to take care of the house while old Alec insisted on accompanying his young visitors.

"You know, Miss Fanny, you must carry the bird, and we shall be able to get over the ground faster if I drag the carriage."

Fanny was very glad to agree to this arrangement, for as Norman was in a bad humour she could not tell how he might behave to her, but she knew that he would be quiet if old Alec was with her. They accordingly set off, Robby giving them a parting cheer. They went on pretty fast, Norman having to hold himself into the carriage as it bumped and thumped over the rough ground.

As Fanny had to carry the bird-cage, Alec went the whole way to the yard at the back of Glen Tulloch. Norman scarcely thanking him, jumped out, and ran into the house.

"Oh! do stop, Mr Morrison, till my mamma, and granny, and Mrs Maclean can see you," said Fanny, "they will wish to thank you, as I do, and as Norman was much frightened, I hope that they will not think it necessary to punish him."

"But I did nothing worth speaking of," answered old Alec, "and so just give my respects to the ladies, and tell them that I would have been happy to have had a talk with them if they had wished, but I must go back to look after my little boy, for I never like to be away from him longer than I can help. Bless you, young lady! it does my heart good to see you, so pray come and pay me a visit whenever you can."

The old man hurried away, and Fanny ran in to show her bird, hoping that no questions would be asked her about Norman's behaviour till she had persuaded him, as she wished to do, to tell his own story, so that old Alec and Robby might be properly thanked for the service they had rendered him. _

Read next: Chapter 8. The Pet Bird

Read previous: Chapter 6. Learning To Fish

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