While all these things were happening,
Angus Niel had returned from his errand across the
little lake, and was making his way slowly toward
home, following the course of the stream. As he
came near the fall he stopped and sniffed. There
was certainly a most appetizing smell of bacon in
the air!
“It can’t be!” he
said aloud to himself. He sniffed again, and
his face turned purple with rage. “Meat,”
he snorted, “as I live! The bold rascals!
Poaching in broad daylight and cooking their game
right under my nose!” It wasn’t under his
nose at all, of course, for the rock was far above
him, and it wasn’t game either.
“I’ll soon cure them of
that trick,” he muttered, as he climbed silently
over the rocks and gazed searchingly about. It
was not long before he caught sight of a thin curl
of blue smoke rising from the top of the rock.
“Aha!” he growled under
his breath, “I’ve got you now, my bold
gentlemen! I’ll teach you to flaunt your
thefts in the face of the Laird’s own gamekeeper,
once I get my hands on you!” At once he began
nosing about the rocks in search of the path by which
the poachers had climbed the cliff.
Meanwhile Sandy and Jock had found
the sprays of the Evergreen Pine and were on their
way back to the cave with them, when Jock suddenly
seized Sandy by the arm and ducked down behind a boulder.
There, not a hundred feet away, stood Angus Niel gazing
up at the top of the rock! His back was toward
them, and the noise of the waterfall had drowned out
the sound of voices, or they surely would not have
escaped his notice. As it was, they slipped behind
the fall, whisked into the hole, and began climbing
the secret stair like two frightened squirrels.
An instant later they startled Alan and Jean, who
were in the cave, by dashing in after them on all
fours.
“What on earth is the matter?” cried Jean.
“Matter, indeed!” gasped
Jock, out of breath. “Angus Niel is down
there, and he’s seen the smoke! He almost
saw us, but we just gave him the slip and got by.”
“Keep out of sight, all of you,”
commanded the Chief, “and leave him to me.”
The obedient Clan flattened themselves
against the back of the cave, while Alan crept to
the edge of the rock on his stomach like a lizard,
and, lying there, was able to peep through the thick
screen of leaves and see what was going on below.
The gamekeeper was still scrambling over the rocks
and looking, as Alan said afterward, “for all
the world like a dog who had lost the trail and was
trying to find it again.”
As the lookout was well screened,
Alan soon allowed the rest of the Clan to join him,
and Angus Niel little guessed, as he prowled about
over the rocks, that every move was watched from above.
Despairing of finding the path, he decided at last
to get up a tree and make an observation. He
selected a large pine which grew near the cave and
began to climb.
So long as he stood on the ground,
the children knew it was impossible for Angus to see
them, but when he began to climb, they scuttled back
into the cave as fast as they could go.
Climbing is hard work for a fat man,
and the gamekeeper found himself covered with pitch
before he had gone more than halfway up, but he puffed
on in spite of difficulties and at last reached a
point from which he could look directly across the
surface of the rock, but from which the cave was entirely
hidden behind a projection in the wall of the cliff.
Angus saw what he supposed to be the
whole shelf of the rock, and he saw that there was
no one there. He could see the fire and the frying-pan,
the egg shells lying about, and even the portion of
bacon that Jean had not cooked. They were all
in full view, but apparently the poachers had gone
away into the woods, leaving their airy camp deserted.
There was no one there; of that he felt, certain.
“I’ll just give’em
a surprise,” thought the gamekeeper to himself.
“If they found a way up, I can, too. I’ll
help myself to a snack of that bacon, and if they
come back and find me-well, I have my gun
with me and I don’t like being interrupted at
my meals.”
He backed down the tree like a fat
cat, and made a desperate search for the path, and
this time he actually succeeded in finding it.
He chuckled to himself as he plunged into the passage
and began to climb. He had gone about a third
of the way up, when he reached the narrowest point
of the channel and tried to force himself through,
but the space was so small that no matter how much
he tried, he could not get by. His gun was in
his way too, but he could not leave it below, as that
would be putting it into the hands of the poachers
if they should return too soon.
In vain he twisted and squirmed, he
could get no farther, and moreover he was afraid the
gun might go off by accident in his struggles.
When he found that he could not possibly go up, he
decided to go down; but he found, to his horror, that
he couldn’t do that either. There he stuck,
and an angrier man than Angus Niel it would have been
hard to find. A projecting rock punched him in
the stomach, and when he pressed back against the rock
behind him, to free himself, he scraped the skin off
his back. Casting prudence to the winds, he howled
with pain and rage, and the sound, carried up through
the narrow passage, echoed in the cave like the roar
of a lion.
The children, meanwhile, had kept
in hiding, and when they heard these blood-curdling
sounds, they at first did not know what caused them,
because, of course, they could not see what was happening
below, but they knew very soon that they were not made
by a wild animal because wild animals do not swear.
“It’s Angus, stuck in
the secret stairway,” Alan said, smothering
his laughter. “He’s too fat to get
through!” He crept to the edge and peeped down
the hole. There, far below, he could see the top
of Angus’s head and the muzzle of his gun.
The Chief was a boy of great presence
of mind. He backed hastily away from the hole
and ran to the fall, snatching up the pan as he passed.
This he filled with water and, rushing back, he instantly
sent a small deluge down upon the head of the hapless
Angus.
The gamekeeper was dumbfounded by
this new attack. Had he not with his own eyes
seen that the rocky shelf was empty? How, then,
could this thing be? He rolled his eyes upward,
but there was no one in sight. He had heard all
his life tales of witches and water cows, of spells
cast upon people by fairies, of their being borne
away by them into mountain caverns and held as prisoners
for years and years; and he made up his mind that such
a fate had now befallen him.
Firmly convinced that he was the victim
of enchantment, he became palsied with terror, arid
began to plead with the unseen tormentors who he believed
held him in thrall. “Only leave me loose,
dear good little people,” he howled, “and
I’ll never, never trouble you more!”
At this point Alan, shaking with mirth,
sent down another panful of water, and Angus, redoubling
his efforts, wrenched himself free, scraping off quantities
of skin as he did so. They could hear him scuttling
down the secret stair as fast as his legs would carry
him, and when he emerged below, they watched him hurry
away through the forest, casting fearful glances over
his shoulder as he ran. Alan made a hollow of
his two hands and sent after him a wild note, like
the wailing of a banshee.
“Angus Niel, Angus Niel,”
rose the piercing note, “bring back my beautiful
stag, my stag that lived by the tarn!”
As the sound reached his ears, Angus
redoubled his speed, and they could hear him crashing
through the underbrush as if the devil himself were
really at his heels.
When the sounds died away in the distance,
the Rob Roy Clan rolled on the floor of the cave with
laughter.
“There!” said Alan, as
he sat up and wiped his eyes. “That’ll
fix Angus Niel! We’ve scared him out of
a year’s growth, and he’ll never dare
meddle with this place again. Come on, now.
It’s time to go home, but to-morrow we’ll
come back and fix this place up in a way that would
make Robinson Crusoe green with envy.”
They carefully put water on the ashes
of their fire, stuck the sprigs of Evergreen Pine
in their bonnets, and sped down the secret stairway
and home.