"They will have taken roun' the road," says Ronny; "they'll be on us before we see them if we lie here."
On we went in single file in the belting. Briars swung back and cut me across the face, branches tore at us in passing all unheeded, and once my leg, to the knee, sunk into a hole and threw me bodily; but I pulled myself out, and was lame for six steps maybe, and forgot about it. When we were half-way to the hill common there came sharp and clear through the night the neigh of a horse.
"The doited fules," cries Ronny. "They've ta'en the horses to ride a man doon among the hills."
"Let me once win the peat bink," says Dan, "and I'll wander the devil himsel'." And from the ring in his voice I kent his dark mood had passed, and waited to see him take the lead; but no, he herded me from behind, but cheerily now. We had crossed a high road, and entered the belting of trees again, and along this road the gangers would come, and our spoor was written plain.
"There will be the collieshangie when they see our marks in the snaw, but they'll founder their horses on the brae and ill-use time tae nae purpose, if just we get ower the common."
From the high ground we could see the road for half a mile and the hunters in full cry, some on horseback and some afoot.
"Horse and foot," says Dan at my ear. "A grim chase, Hamish. I wish ye had left me, lad."
A terrible curse from Ronny made me think our flank was already turned. "The devil blast them. The whuns, I clean forgot the whuns," and he called on the Almighty to blast and destroy every whin-bush that ever grew.
Amidst the torrent of oaths that buzzed around me I remembered hearing of the whin planting. In these days keep for beasts was scarce, and the crofters would be cutting green whins, and pounding them between flat stones and feeding cattle and horse with them. Indeed, to this day you'll see the flat stone yet at many a byre-end, although it is never used now except maybe to set a boyne on on washing days; but the poor cow beasts were terribly fond of the whins, and they'll tell you yet, the old folks, that when they were herding in their young days, when the beasts got scattered, they would take a whin bush and light it to windward, and let the whin smoke drift down the wind, and the beasts would come running, for they liked the charred whins with the sap still in the jags. Here and there they planted whins, for at one time they had to go all the way to the castle for them, and on one side the common was a great dense bank of them, thick as corn, and well grown.