CHAPTER IV
SANDY RETURNS
Though his meeting with Sandy had happened many months before, neitherthe memory of Sandy nor of the pipers had dimmed in Ian's mind. Throughhis hours of work and play his thoughts turned to marching Highlandladdies and shrieking pipes.
He would often imagine himself as one of their number. Indeed, often onhis walks to school he would "make believe," as so many children callit. People would turn to see why the little boy in kilts marched sostraight and puffed his cheeks out.
Ian wore kilts, though his father did not. Many of the children went toschool in their kilts. Yet many could not afford to do this and worethem only on Sundays.
Ian, however, had a school kilt and a Sunday kilt and was very proud ofhis wardrobe. One of the main reasons for his pride lay in the factthat in kilts he could better imagine himself a piper.
Marching alone one morning, he met Elsie. Elsie was only a wee lass,far younger than Ian. But she liked the tall boy who always smiled ather and who walked so straight.
Ian liked Elsie better than the other lassies, who did not understand,as Elsie did, the importance and grandeur of pipers. Besides, theothers were either too freckled, or their cheeks too red.
IAN'S SCHOOL]
Some Scotch children have the complexions of bright sunsets. Ian likedElsie's bonny face, with the few little freckles on her nose, and hersunny smile.
This morning Elsie overtook him as he was marching to his own silentdrone of pipes.
"Do not march so, Ian. The children will be laughing at you when youreach the school. I heard them saying you're daft about pipers, and Ithought I'd tell you," she said.
Ian looked down into the little maiden's blue eyes. She, too, wasdressed in a kilt. She wore over it a red jersey.
Unlike Ian, she did not have the sporran. That is what the Scotch callthe piece of fur hanging down in front of the kilt. Each child's kiltwas, however, pinned on the side with a large safety pin--which is thestyle in wearing kilts.
KILTED SCHOOL CHILDREN]
Elsie's hair was done in two braids, which hung down her back. Thoughhe resented what she told him, Ian thought she was very sweet. For shelooked at him in a way that made his resentment soon fade.
Smiling, he said, "Thanks, Elsie. I'll not march now."
Silently they walked together. Ian was very near telling his littlefriend about his dreams.
But while he was weighing the probable outcome of such a move, theschool bell rang. It was half past nine, the time that school inScotland starts in the springtime. Ian and Elsie ran.
At one o'clock, Ian went home to his lunch. Elsie stayed, for her homewas far away. She brought her "piece," which is what the Scotchchildren call their lunch. No doubt the word refers to their piece ofbread, which, with an apple, is sometimes all they get.
At home, Ian's mother always had waiting for him a plate of Scotchbroth, potatoes, and sometimes an apple tart. After school Ian wasdrawn to the bridge.
The work at home was not pressing to-day. Father was away with thesheep. Mother did not need Ian. His heart was light as he started offfor the old brig. He walked along with the hope of adventure, while inhis ears the imaginary sound of pipes played.
"Ian, wait," called Elsie, and ran after him.
Ian stopped and remembered that he had almost told her. How could a weelass like that understand? No. He would not speak. What was more, hewould not let her come along, for he knew that was what she wanted todo.
"Are you going fishing from the brig?" asked Elsie blithely.
"Ay," answered Ian sulkily, as he stepped ahead of her.
"May I go with you, Ian?" queried the small girl.
"No, Elsie. You're too wee for fishing, and you scare the fish."
Elsie's lip quivered. Ian feared she would cry right out on the road.Then what would he do?
"Ach, don't cry, lass. Run home to your mother, for 'tis late for youto be out, and she'll be worried."
It was all said kindly but much too eagerly. Elsie, who was keen, didnot doubt for a moment that she was not wanted.
She ran off, while Ian, with a sigh--sad to say, of relief--ran to hishome. He kissed his mother, took down his fishing rod, and was off forfish and dreams.
At the bridge, adventure indeed awaited him, had he but known. Hesettled himself in his favorite place and threw his line down into theriver. Little did he suspect what was to happen.
Singing to himself, he waited. A tug on his line! So soon? Ah, the fishwere biting well to-day. Mother would be pleased. What a big fish andhow it pulled! Ian struggled for several minutes, and then up came hisprize.
But what sort of fish was this? It looked like a fuzzy ball of brownfur. As it came up closer, Ian saw that it was a bear--a toy bear. Itwas undoubtedly the property of a certain Elsie Campbell!
"Out, you wee devil, out!" cried Ian, standing up and looking downunder the bridge for his tormentor.
There she was, and her laugh was most annoying to Ian. He wasscolding, and at the same time trying to undo the hook from the toybear's fur.
"Come up here, you wee devil!" repeated Ian furiously.
Up came the culprit. Ian had to join in her laughter, though he shookhis finger at her the while. She sat down beside him happily.
"Ian, do you believe in the devil?" she asked.
"Ay, do I," he answered. "'Tis yerself."
"No." Elsie shook her head seriously. "Do you know, I believe 'tis likeSanta Claus. 'Tis your own father!"
"Ach, Elsie," laughed Ian, at the child's idea. "You know that SantaClaus brings you dolls and toy bears and--"
Ian did not go on to complete the list, for just then he heard a soundthat made his heart beat faster. Jumping down from the wall, he lookedup the road. Coming toward him was Sandy!
How Elsie ever disappeared Ian never knew. Disappear she did quickly.Afterwards, when Ian thought it over, it seemed that fairies hadsnatched her away.
Whatever happened, she was not there when Sandy and Ian greeted eachother. It was probably her woman's instinct, which bade her leavethese two to their men's affairs!
SANDY ARRIVES]
How happy was Ian as his kind old friend seated himself by Ian's sidewith the same boyish leap!
"Well, Ian, lad," said Sandy, "the same bonny Aberfoyle, the samebonny laddie! And do you have the same bonny dreams?"
"Ach, Sandy, more than ever before. And have you traveled far sincelast I saw you?"
"Ay, that have I, and many's the tale I'll tell you this day. But firstI must show you something."
Beckoning Ian to his cart, Sandy pointed to a bundle wrapped up in hiscoat.
Tenderly unwrapping it, the old piper pulled out a young lamb, dirty,thin, and bleating.
"'Tis a poor hurt beastie, Ian," he said. "I found it on the road. Itsmother is dead, and it was left to die, too. I picked it up and nowcannot care for it, as I'm wandering and have no place to keep it."
"Ach, Sandy, couldn't I keep the wee beastie for you?" asked Ianeagerly.
Sandy stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"You could, laddie. But 't would be a while till I return--maybe nottill next spring. And a lamb with no mother is a care."
"Ach, Sandy," cried the boy, "let me do it for you. I could feed itwith my wee sister's nursing bottle."
"Ach, ay, laddie! Your mother would like that fine!" laughed Sandy."But," he continued soberly, "if you would keep the wee creature, Icould give you something for your trouble."
"No, Sandy. I would keep it for you, and gladly."
Sandy was still dubious. He was worried for fear the boy's father wouldobject to a charge of this kind. The lamb would need tender nursing andcareful watching.
Sometimes small boys grow careless, although their intentions are ofthe best. Then the task falls to Father or Mother.
As Sandy was revolving these thoughts in his mind, he suddenly had aplan.
"Ian," he said, "do you remember the story I told you of the pipers atDunblane?"<
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"I've thought of little else, Sandy," replied Ian, as he stroked thelamb. The little creature was nestling down comfortably in Sandy'sarms.
"Well, lad, uncover the plaid on my cart and see what I have there."
Ian turned back the bit of plaid covering the cart. Sandy used it toprotect his personal belongings.
"Two sets o' pipes, Sandy!" exclaimed Ian.
"Ay! One was given me by a man for a service. It is not so bonny asmine but might do for a laddie learning to play!"
"Sandy, do you mean--?" Ian cried.
"Ay, lad. In the spring when I return, if this wee beastie is fine, andyou have done your duty like a true shepherd, then you shall have thepipes!"
"Sandy, Sandy, is it true? May I be a piper and play the pipes like theladdies in Dunblane? Ach, Sandy!"
Ian was almost mad with joy. For a moment he forgot what service he wasto render in return for this great reward. But remembering his charge,he carefully lifted the little lamb out of Sandy's arms.
He held it tenderly in his own, and said, "You'll find the wee beastiewell and fat when you return in the spring, Sandy."
The Wee Scotch Piper Page 4
