Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

THE  PLIGHT   IN  THE   HEATHER.                    199
away from their neighbourhood. But the business was
the most wearing I had ever taken part in. A man had
need of a hundred eyes in every part of him, to keep
concealed in that uneven country and within cry of so
many and scattered sentries. When we must pass an
open place, quickness was not all, but a swift judgment
not only of the lie of the whole country, but of the
solidity of every stone on which we must set foot; for
the afternoon was now fallen so breathless that the
rolling of a pebble sounded abroad like a pistol shot, and
would start the echo calling among the hills and cliffs.
By sundown we had made some distance, even by
our slow rate of progress, though to be sure the sentry
on the rock was still plainly in our view. But now we
came on something that put all fears out of season; and
that was a deep rushing burn, that tore down, in that
part, to join the glen river. At the sight of this we cast
ourselves on the ground and plunged head and shoulders
in the water; and I cannot tell which was the more
pleasant, the great shock as the cool stream went over
us, or the greed with which we drank of it.
We lay there (for the banks hid us), drank again and
again, bathed our chests, let our wrists trail in the run-
ning water till they ached with the chill; and at last,
being wonderfully renewed, we got out the meal-bag
and made drammach in the iron pan. This, though it
is but cold water mingled with oatmeal, yet makes a
good enough dish for a hungry man; and where there
are no means of making fire, or (as in our case) good