30 chapters
6 hour read
Selected Chapters
30 chapters
FROM THE PENTLANDS LOOKING NORTH AND SOUTH
FROM THE PENTLANDS LOOKING NORTH AND SOUTH
Around my feet the clouds are drawn In the cold mystery of the dawn; No breezes cheer, no guests intrude My mossy, mist-clad solitude; When sudden down the steeps of sky Flames a long, lightening wind. On high The steel-blue arch shines clear, and far, In the low lands where cattle are, Towns smoke. And swift, a haze, a gleam,— The Firth lies like a frozen stream, Reddening with morn. Tall spires of ships, Like thorns about the harbour's lips, Now shake faint canvas, now, asleep, Their salt, une
3 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
I THE COMPANY OF THE MARJOLAINE
I THE COMPANY OF THE MARJOLAINE
"Qu'est-c'qui passe ici si tard, Compagnons de la Marjolaine," —CHANSONS DE FRANCE ...I came down from the mountain and into the pleasing valley of the Adige in as pelting a heat as ever mortal suffered under. The way underfoot was parched and white; I had newly come out of a wilderness of white limestone crags, and a sun of Italy blazed blindingly in an azure Italian sky. You are to suppose, my dear aunt, that I had had enough and something more of my craze for foot-marching. A fortnight ago I
18 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
II
II
In the small hours of the next morning I was awoke by a most unearthly sound. It was as if all the cats on all the roofs of Santa Chiara were sharpening their claws and wailing their battle-cries. Presently out of the noise came a kind of music—very slow, solemn, and melancholy. The notes ran up in great flights of ecstasy, and sunk anon to the tragic deeps. In spite of my sleepiness I was held spellbound and the musician had concluded with certain barbaric grunts before I had the curiosity to r
10 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
III
III
It was just before noon next day that the travellers arrived. I was sitting in the shady loggia of the inn, reading a volume of De Thou, when there drove up to the door two coaches. Out of the first descended very slowly and stiffly four gentlemen; out of the second four servants and a quantity of baggage. As it chanced there was no one about, the courtyard slept its sunny noontide sleep, and the only movement was a lizard on the wall and a buzz of flies by the fountain. Seeing no sign of the la
17 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
AVIGNON 1759
AVIGNON 1759
Hearts to break but nane to sell, Gear to tine but nane to hain;— We maun dree a weary spell Ere our lad comes back again. I walk abroad on winter days, When storms have stripped the wide champaign, For northern winds have norland ways, And scents of Badenoch haunt the rain. And by the lipping river path, When in the fog the Rhone runs grey, I see the heather of the Strath, And watch the salmon leap in Spey. The hills are feathered with young trees, I set them for my children's boys. I made a ga
1 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
II A LUCID INTERVAL
II A LUCID INTERVAL
To adopt the opening words of a more famous tale, "The truth of this strange matter is what the world has long been looking for." The events which I propose to chronicle were known to perhaps a hundred people in London whose fate brings them into contact with politics. The consequences were apparent to all the world, and for one hectic fortnight tinged the soberest newspapers with saffron, drove more than one worthy election agent to an asylum, and sent whole batches of legislators to Continenta
6 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
II
II
My wife was at Kissengen, and I was dining with the Caerlaverocks en garcon. When I have not to wait upon the adornment of the female person I am a man of punctual habits, and I reached the house as the hall clock chimed the quarter-past. My poor friend, Tommy Deloraine, arrived along with me, and we ascended the staircase together. I call him "my poor friend," for at the moment Tommy was under the weather. He had the misfortune to be a marquis, and a very rich one, and at the same time to be in
16 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
III
III
When I opened my paper next morning I read two startling pieces of news. Lord Mulross had been knocked down by a taxi-cab on his way home the night before, and was now in bed suffering from a bad shock and a bruised ankle. There was no cause for anxiety, said the report, but his lordship must keep his room for a week or two. The second item, which filled leading articles and overflowed into "Political Notes," was Mr. Vennard's speech. The Secretary for India had gone down about eleven o'clock to
6 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
IV
IV
The next week was an epoch in my life. I seemed to live in the centre of a Mad Tea-party, where every one was convinced of the madness, and yet resolutely protested that nothing had happened. The public events of those days were simple enough. While Lord Mulross's ankle approached convalescence, the hives of politics were humming with rumours. Vennard's speech had dissolved his party into its parent elements, and the Opposition, as nonplussed as the Government, did not dare as yet to claim the r
8 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
V
V
I conceive that the drug did not create new opinions, but elicited those which had hitherto lain dormant. Every man has a creed, but in his soul he knows that that creed has another side, possibly not less logical, which it does not suit him to produce. Our most honest convictions are not the children of pure reason, but of temperament, environment, necessity, and interest. Most of us take sides in life and forget the one we reject. But our conscience tells us it is there, and we can on occasion
11 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
THE SHORTER CATECHISM (Revised Version)
THE SHORTER CATECHISM (Revised Version)
When I was young and herdit sheep I read auld tales o' Wallace wight; My heid was fou o' sangs and threip O' folk that feared nae mortal might. But noo I'm auld, and weel I ken We're made alike o' gowd and mire; There's saft bits in the stievest men, The bairnliest's got a spunk o' fire. Sae hearken to me, lads, It's truth that I tell: There's nae man a' courage— I ken by mysel'. I've been an elder forty year: I've tried to keep the narrow way: I've walked afore the Lord in fear: I've never miss
1 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
III THE LEMNIAN
III THE LEMNIAN
He pushed the matted locks from his brow as he peered into the mist. His hair was thick with salt, and his eyes smarted from the greenwood fire on the poop. The four slaves who crouched beside the thwarts-Carians with thin birdlike faces-were in a pitiable case, their hands blue with oar-weals and the lash marks on their shoulders beginning to gape from sun and sea. The Lemnian himself bore marks of ill usage. His cloak was still sopping, his eyes heavy with watching, and his lips black and crac
31 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
ATTA'S SONG (Roughly translated.)
ATTA'S SONG (Roughly translated.)
I will sing of thee, Great Sea-Mother, Whose white arms gather Thy sons in the ending: And draw them homeward From far sad marches— Wild lands in the sunset, Bitter shores of the morning— Soothe them and guide them By shining pathways Homeward to thee. All day I have striven in dark glens With parched throat and dim eyes, Where the red crags choke the stream And dank thickets hide the spear. I have spilled the blood of my foes And their wolves have torn my flanks. I am faint, O Mother, Faint and
2 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
IV SPACE
IV SPACE
"Est impossibile? Certum est." —TERTULLIAN. Leithen told me this story one evening in early September as we sat beside the pony track which gropes its way from Glenvalin up the Correi na Sidhe. I had arrived that afternoon from the south, while he had been taking an off-day from a week's stalking, so we had walked up the glen together after tea to get the news of the forest. A rifle was out on the Correi na Sidhe beat, and a thin spire of smoke had risen from the top of Sgurr Dearg to show that
33 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
STOCKS AND STONES
STOCKS AND STONES
[The Chief Topaiwari replieth to Sir Walter Raleigh who upbraideth him for idol worship] My gods, you say, are idols dumb, Which men have wrought from wood or clay, Carven with chisel, shaped with thumb, A morning's task, an evening's play. You bid me turn my face on high Where the blue heaven the sun enthrones, And serve a viewless deity, Nor make my bow to stocks and stones. My lord, I am not skilled in wit Nor wise in priestcraft, but I know That fear to man is spur and bit To jog and curb hi
1 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
V STREAMS OF WATER IN THE SOUTH
V STREAMS OF WATER IN THE SOUTH
"As streams of water in the south, Our bondage, Lord, recall." —PSALM cxxvi. (Scots Metrical Version). It was at the ford of the Clachlands Water in a tempestuous August, that I, an idle boy, first learned the hardships of the Lammas droving. The shepherd of the Redswirehead, my very good friend, and his three shaggy dogs, were working for their lives in an angry water. The path behind was thronged with scores of sheep bound for the Gledsmuir market, and beyond it was possible to discern through
6 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
II
II
Two years passed, and April came with her suns and rains and again the waters brimmed full in the valleys. Under the clear, shining sky the lambing went on, and the faint bleat of sheep brooded on the hills. In a land of young heather and green upland meads, of faint odours of moor-burn, and hill-tops falling in clear ridges to the sky-line, the veriest St. Anthony would not abide indoors; so I flung all else to the winds and went a-fishing. At the first pool on the Callowa, where the great floo
5 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
III
III
A space of years elapsed ere I met him, for fate had carried me far from the upland valleys. But once again I was afoot on the white moor-roads; and, as I swung along one autumn afternoon up the path which leads from the Glen of Callowa to the Gled, I saw a figure before me which I knew for my friend. When I overtook him, his appearance puzzled and troubled me. Age seemed to have come on him at a bound, and in the tottering figure and the stoop of weakness I had difficulty in recognising the har
5 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
IV
IV
The conclusion of this tale belongs not to me, but to the shepherd of the Redswirehead, and I heard it from him in his dwelling, as I stayed the night, belated on the darkening moors. He told me it after supper in a flood of misty Doric, and his voice grew rough at times, and he poked viciously at the dying peat. In the last back-end I was at Gledfoot wi' sheep, and a weary job I had and little credit. Ye ken the place, a lang dreich shore wi' the wind swirlin' and bitin' to the bane, and the br
7 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
THE GIPSY'S SONG TO THE LADY CASSILIS
THE GIPSY'S SONG TO THE LADY CASSILIS
"Whereupon the Faas, coming down from the Gates of Galloway, did so bewitch my lady that she forgat husband and kin, and followed the tinkler's piping."—Chap-book of the Raid of Cassilis. The door is open to the wall, The air is bright and free; Adown the stair, across the hall, And then-the world and me; The bare grey bent, the running stream, The fire beside the shore; And we will bid the hearth farewell, And never seek it more, My love, And never seek it more. And you shall wear no silken gow
1 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
VI THE GROVE OF ASHTAROTH
VI THE GROVE OF ASHTAROTH
"C'est enfin que dans leurs prunelles Rit et pleure-fastidieux— L'amour des choses eternelles Des vieux morts et des anciens dieux!" —PAUL VERLAINE. We were sitting around the camp fire, some thirty miles north of a place called Taqui, when Lawson announced his intention of finding a home. He had spoken little the last day or two, and I had guessed that he had struck a vein of private reflection. I thought it might be a new mine or irrigation scheme, and I was surprised to find that it was a cou
12 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
II
II
Three years later, pretty nearly to a day, I came back to see what Lawson had made of his hobby. He had bidden me often to Welgevonden, as he chose to call it—though I do not know why he should have fixed a Dutch name to a countryside where Boer never trod. At the last there had been some confusion about dates, and I wired the time of my arrival, and set off without an answer. A motor met me at the queer little wayside station of Taqui, and after many miles on a doubtful highway I came to the ga
9 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
III
III
The man who valeted me was Lawson's own servant. As he was laying out my clothes I asked after the health of his master, and was told that he had slept ill and would not rise till late. Then the man, an anxious-faced Englishman, gave me some information on his own account. Mr. Lawson was having one of his bad turns. It would pass away in a day or two, but till it had gone he was fit for nothing. He advised me to see Mr. Jobson, the factor, who would look to my entertainment in his master's absen
14 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
IV
IV
I had business on hand which would not wait. By seven, Jobson, who had been sent for, was waiting for me in the library. I knew by his grim face that here I had a very good substitute for a prophet of the Lord. "You were right," I said. "I have read the 11th chapter of Ist Kings, and I have spent such a night as I pray God I shall never spend again. "I thought you would," he replied. "I've had the same experience myself." "The Grove?" I said. "Ay, the wud," was the answer in broad Scots. I wante
10 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
WOOD MAGIC (9TH CENTURY.)
WOOD MAGIC (9TH CENTURY.)
I will walk warily in the wise woods on the fringes of eventide, For the covert is full of noises and the stir of nameless things. I have seen in the dusk of the beeches the shapes of the lords that ride, And down in the marish hollow I have heard the lady who sings. And once in an April gleaming I met a maid on the sward, All marble-white and gleaming and tender and wild of eye;— I, Jehan the hunter, who speak am a grown man, middling hard, But I dreamt a month of the maid, and wept I knew not
1 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
VII THE RIDING OF NINEMILEBURN
VII THE RIDING OF NINEMILEBURN
Sim bent over the meal ark and plumbed its contents with his fist. Two feet and more remained: provender—with care—for a month, till he harvested the waterside corn and ground it at Ashkirk mill. He straightened his back better pleased; and, as he moved, the fine dust flew into his throat and set him coughing. He choked back the sound till his face crimsoned. But the mischief was done. A woman's voice, thin and weary, came from the ben-end. The long man tiptoed awkwardly to her side. "Canny, las
21 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
PLAIN FOLK
PLAIN FOLK
Since flaming angels drove our sire From Eden's green to walk the mire, We are the folk who tilled the plot And ground the grain and boiled the pot. We hung the garden terraces That pleasured Queen Semiramis. Our toil it was and burdened brain That set the Pyramids o'er the plain. We marched from Egypt at God's call And drilled the ranks and fed them all; But never Eschol's wine drank we,— Our bones lay 'twixt the sand and sea. We officered the brazen bands That rode the far and desert lands; We
3 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
VIII THE KINGS OF ORION
VIII THE KINGS OF ORION
"An ape and a lion lie side by side in the heart of a man." —PERSIAN PROVERB Spring-fishing in the North is a cold game for a man whose blood has become thin in gentler climates. All afternoon I had failed to stir a fish, and the wan streams of the Laver, swirling between bare grey banks, were as icy to the eye as the sharp gusts of hail from the north-east were to the fingers. I cast mechanically till I grew weary, and then with an empty creel and a villainous temper set myself to trudge the tw
42 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
BABYLON (The Song of NEHEMIAH'S Workmen)
BABYLON (The Song of NEHEMIAH'S Workmen)
How many miles to Babylon? 'Three score and ten. Can I get there by candle-light? Yes, and back again. We are come back from Babylon, Out of the plains and the glare, To the little hills of our own country And the sting of our kindred air; To the rickle of stones on the red rock's edge Which Kedron cleaves like a sword. We will build the walls of Zion again, To the glory of Zion's lord. Now is no more of dalliance By the reedy waters in spring, When we sang of home, and sighed, and dreamed, And
3 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter
X THE RIME OF TRUE THOMAS THE TALE OF THE RESPECTABLE WHAUP AND THE GREAT GODLY MAN
X THE RIME OF TRUE THOMAS THE TALE OF THE RESPECTABLE WHAUP AND THE GREAT GODLY MAN
This is a story that I heard from the King of the Numidians, who with his tattered retinue encamps behind the peat-ricks. If you ask me where and when it happened I fear that I am scarce ready with an answer. But I will vouch my honour for its truth; and if any one seek further proof, let him go east the town and west the town and over the fields of No mans land to the Long Muir, and if he find not the King there among the peat-ricks, and get not a courteous answer to his question, then times ha
17 minute read
Read Chapter
Read Chapter