The Black Dwarf

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER II.

  Will none but Hearne the Hunter serve your turn? --MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

  In one of the most remote districts of the south of Scotland, where anideal line, drawn along the tops of lofty and bleak mountains, separatesthat land from her sister kingdom, a young man, called Halbert, orHobbie Elliot, a substantial farmer, who boasted his descent from oldMartin Elliot of the Preakin-tower, noted in Border story and song, wason his return from deer-stalking. The deer, once so numerous among thesesolitary wastes, were now reduced to a very few herds, which, shelteringthemselves in the most remote and inaccessible recesses, rendered thetask of pursuing them equally toilsome and precarious. There were,however, found many youth of the country ardently attached to thissport, with all its dangers and fatigues. The sword had been sheathedupon the Borders for more than a hundred years, by the peaceful union ofthe crowns in the reign of James the First of Great Britain. Stillthe country retained traces of what it had been in former days; theinhabitants, their more peaceful avocations having been repeatedlyinterrupted by the civil wars of the preceding century, were scarce yetbroken in to the habits of regular industry, sheep-farming had not beenintroduced upon any considerable scale, and the feeding of black cattlewas the chief purpose to which the hills and valleys were applied. Nearto the farmer's house, the tenant usually contrived to raise such a cropof oats or barley, as afforded meal for his family; and the whole ofthis slovenly and imperfect mode of cultivation left much time upon hisown hands, and those of his domestics. This was usually employed by theyoung men in hunting and fishing; and the spirit of adventure, whichformerly led to raids and forays in the same districts, was still to bediscovered in the eagerness with which they pursued those rural sports.

  The more high-spirited among the youth were, about the time that ournarrative begins, expecting, rather with hope than apprehension, anopportunity of emulating their fathers in their military achievements,the recital of which formed the chief part of their amusement withindoors. The passing of the Scottish act of security had given the alarmof England, as it seemed to point at a separation of the two Britishkingdoms, after the decease of Queen Anne, the reigning sovereign.Godolphin, then at the head of the English administration, foresaw thatthere was no other mode of avoiding the probable extremity of a civilwar, but by carrying through an incorporating union. How that treatywas managed, and how little it seemed for some time to promise thebeneficial results which have since taken place to such extent, may belearned from the history of the period. It is enough for our purposeto say, that all Scotland was indignant at the terms on which theirlegislature had surrendered their national independence. The generalresentment led to the strangest leagues and to the wildest plans. TheCameronians were about to take arms for the restoration of the house ofStewart, whom they regarded, with justice, as their oppressors; andthe intrigues of the period presented the strange picture of papists,prelatists, and presbyterians, caballing among themselves against theEnglish government, out of a common feeling that their country had beentreated with injustice. The fermentation was universal; and, as thepopulation of Scotland had been generally trained to arms, under the actof security, they were not indifferently prepared for war, and waitedbut the declaration of some of the nobility to break out into openhostility. It was at this period of public confusion that our storyopens.

  The cleugh, or wild ravine, into which Hobbie Elliot had followed thegame, was already far behind him, and he was considerably advanced onhis return homeward, when the night began to close upon him. Thiswould have been a circumstance of great indifference to the experiencedsportsman, who could have walked blindfold over every inch of hisnative heaths, had it not happened near a spot, which, according tothe traditions of the country, was in extremely bad fame, as hauntedby supernatural appearances. To tales of this kind Hobbie had, from hischildhood, lent an attentive ear; and as no part of the country affordedsuch a variety of legends, so no man was more deeply read in theirfearful lore than Hobbie of the Heugh-foot; for so our gallant wascalled, to distinguish him from a round dozen of Elliots who bore thesame Christian name. It cost him no efforts, therefore, to call tomemory the terrific incidents connected with the extensive waste uponwhich he was now entering. In fact, they presented themselves with areadiness which he felt to be somewhat dismaying.

  This dreary common was called Mucklestane-Moor, from a huge column ofunhewn granite, which raised its massy head on a knell near the centreof the heath, perhaps to tell of the mighty dead who slept beneath, orto preserve the memory of some bloody skirmish. The real cause ofits existence had, however, passed away; and tradition, which is asfrequently an inventor of fiction as a preserver of truth, had suppliedits place with a supplementary legend of her own, which now came fullupon Hobbie's memory. The ground about the pillar was strewed, or ratherencumbered, with many large fragments of stone of the same consistencewith the column, which, from their appearance as they lay scattered onthe waste, were popularly called the Grey Geese of Mucklestane-Moor. Thelegend accounted for this name and appearance by the catastrophe of anoted and most formidable witch who frequented these hills in formerdays, causing the ewes to KEB, and the kine to cast their calves, andperforming all the feats of mischief ascribed to these evil beings. Onthis moor she used to hold her revels with her sister hags; and ringswere still pointed out on which no grass nor heath ever grew, the turfbeing, as it were, calcined by the scorching hoofs of their diabolicalpartners.

  Once upon a time this old hag is said to have crossed the moor, drivingbefore her a flock of geese, which she proposed to sell to advantageat a neighbouring fair;--for it is well known that the fiend, howeverliberal in imparting his powers of doing mischief, ungenerously leaveshis allies under the necessity of performing the meanest rustic laboursfor subsistence. The day was far advanced, and her chance of obtaininga good price depended on her being first at the market. But the geese,which had hitherto preceded her in a pretty orderly manner, when theycame to this wide common, interspersed with marshes and pools of water,scattered in every direction, to plunge into the element in which theydelighted. Incensed at the obstinacy with which they defied all herefforts to collect them, and not remembering the precise terms of thecontract by which the fiend was bound to obey her commands for a certainspace, the sorceress exclaimed, "Deevil, that neither I nor they everstir from this spot more!" The words were hardly uttered, when, by ametamorphosis as sudden as any in Ovid, the hag and her refractory flockwere converted into stone, the angel whom she served, being a strictformalist, grasping eagerly at an opportunity of completing the ruin ofher body and soul by a literal obedience to her orders. It is said, thatwhen she perceived and felt the transformation which was about to takeplace, she exclaimed to the treacherous fiend, "Ah, thou false thief!lang hast thou promised me a grey gown, and now I am getting ane thatwill last for ever." The dimensions of the pillar, and of the stones,were often appealed to, as a proof of the superior stature and size ofold women and geese in the days of other years, by those praisers ofthe past who held the comfortable opinion of the gradual degeneracy ofmankind.

  All particulars of this legend Hobbie called to mind as he passed alongthe moor. He also remembered, that, since the catastrophe had takenplace, the scene of it had been avoided, at least after night-fall, byall human beings, as being the ordinary resort of kelpies, spunkies, andother demons, once the companions of the witch's diabolical revels,and now continuing to rendezvous upon the same spot, as if still inattendance on their transformed mistress. Hobbie's natural hardihood,however, manfully combated with these intrusive sensations of awe.He summoned to his side the brace of large greyhounds, who were thecompanions of his sports, and who were wont, in his own phrase, to fearneither dog nor devil; he looked at the priming of his piece, and, likethe clown in Hallowe'en, whistled up the warlike ditty of Jock of theSide, as a general causes his drums be beat to inspirit the doubtfulcourage of his soldiers.

  In this state of mind, he was very glad to hear a friendly voi
ce shoutin his rear, and propose to him a partner on the road. He slackened hispace, and was quickly joined by a youth well known to him, a gentlemanof some fortune in that remote country, and who had been abroad on thesame errand with himself. Young Earnscliff, "of that ilk," hadlately come of age, and succeeded to a moderate fortune, a good dealdilapidated, from the share his family had taken in the disturbancesof the period. They were much and generally respected in the country;a reputation which this young gentleman seemed likely to sustain, as hewas well educated, and of excellent dispositions.

  "Now, Earnscliff;" exclaimed Hobbie, "I am glad to meet your honourony gate, and company's blithe on a bare moor like this--it's an uncobogilly bit--Where hae ye been sporting?"

  "Up the Carla Cleugh, Hobbie," answered Earnscliff, returning hisgreeting. "But will our dogs keep the peace, think you?"

  "Deil a fear o' mine," said Hobbie, "they hae scarce a leg to standon.--Odd! the deer's fled the country, I think! I have been as faras Inger-fell-foot, and deil a horn has Hobbie seen, excepting threered-wud raes, that never let me within shot of them, though I gaeda mile round to get up the wind to them, an' a'. Deil o' me wad caremuckle, only I wanted some venison to our auld gude-dame. The carline,she sits in the neuk yonder, upbye, and cracks about the grand shootersand hunters lang syne--Odd, I think they hae killed a' the deer in thecountry, for my part."

  "Well, Hobbie, I have shot a fat buck, and sent him to Earnscliff thismorning--you shall have half of him for your grandmother."

  "Mony thanks to ye, Mr. Patrick, ye're kend to a' the country for a kindheart. It will do the auld wife's heart gude--mair by token, when shekens it comes frae you--and maist of a' gin ye'll come up and take yourshare, for I reckon ye are lonesome now in the auld tower, and a' yourfolk at that weary Edinburgh. I wonder what they can find to do amanga wheen ranks o' stane-houses wi' slate on the tap o' them, that mightlive on their ain bonny green hills."

  "My education and my sisters' has kept my mother much in Edinburgh forseveral years," said Earnscliff; "but I promise you I propose to make upfor lost time."

  "And ye'll rig out the auld tower a bit," said Hobbie, "and livehearty and neighbour-like wi' the auld family friends, as the Laird o'Earnscliff should? I can tell ye, my mother--my grandmother I mean--but,since we lost our ain mother, we ca' her sometimes the tane, andsometimes the tother--but, ony gate, she conceits hersell no thatdistant connected wi' you."

  "Very true, Hobbie, and I will come to the Heugh-foot to dinnerto-morrow with all my heart."

  "Weel, that's kindly said! We are auld neighbours, an we were naekin--and my gude-dame's fain to see you--she clavers about your fatherthat was killed lang syne."

  "Hush, hush, Hobbie--not a word about that--it's a story betterforgotten."

  "I dinna ken--if it had chanced amang our folk, we wad hae keepit it inmind mony a day till we got some mends for't--but ye ken your ain waysbest, you lairds--I have heard say that Ellieslaw's friend stickit yoursire after the laird himsell had mastered his sword."

  "Fie, fie, Hobbie; it was a foolish brawl, occasioned by wine andpolitics--many swords were drawn--it is impossible to say who struck theblow."

  "At ony rate, auld Ellieslaw was aiding and abetting; and I am sure ifye were sae disposed as to take amends on him, naebody could say it waswrang, for your father's blood is beneath his nails--and besides there'snaebody else left that was concerned to take amends upon, and he's aprelatist and a jacobite into the bargain--I can tell ye the countryfolk look for something atween ye."

  "O for shame, Hobbie!" replied the young Laird; "you, that professreligion, to stir your friend up to break the law, and take vengeanceat his own hand, and in such a bogilly bit too, where we know not whatbeings may be listening to us!"

  "Hush, hush!" said Hobbie, drawing nearer to his companion, "I was naethinking o' the like o' them--But I can guess a wee bit what keeps yourhand up, Mr. Patrick; we a' ken it's no lack o' courage, but the twagrey een of a bonny lass, Miss Isabel Vere, that keeps you sae sober."

  "I assure you, Hobbie," said his companion, rather angrily, "I assureyou you are mistaken; and it is extremely wrong of you, either to thinkof, or to utter, such an idea; I have no idea of permitting freedoms tobe carried so far as to connect my name with that of any young lady."

  "Why, there now--there now!" retorted Elliot; "did I not say it was naewant o' spunk that made ye sae mim?--Weel, weel, I meant nae offence;but there's just ae thing ye may notice frae a friend. The auld Lairdof Ellieslaw has the auld riding blood far hetter at his heart than yehae--troth, he kens naething about thae newfangled notions o' peace andquietness--he's a' for the auld-warld doings o' lifting and laying on,and he has a wheen stout lads at his back too, and keeps them weel up inheart, and as fu' o' mischief as young colts. Where he gets the gear todo't nane can say; he lives high, and far abune his rents here; however,he pays his way--Sae, if there's ony out-break in the country, he'slikely to break out wi' the first--and weel does he mind the auldquarrels between ye, I'm surmizing he'll be for a touch at the auldtower at Earnscliff."

  "Well, Hobbie," answered the young gentleman, "if he should be so illadvised, I shall try to make the old tower good against him, as it hasbeen made good by my betters against his betters many a day ago."

  "Very right--very right--that's speaking like a man now," said the stoutyeoman; "and, if sae should be that this be sae, if ye'll just gar yourservant jow out the great bell in the tower, there's me, and my twabrothers, and little Davie of the Stenhouse, will be wi' you, wi' a' thepower we can make, in the snapping of a flint."

  "Many thanks, Hobbie," answered Earnscliff; "but I hope we shall have nowar of so unnatural and unchristian a kind in our time."

  "Hout, sir, hout," replied Elliot; "it wad be but a wee bit neighbourwar, and Heaven and earth would make allowances for it in thisuncultivated place--it's just the nature o' the folk and the land--wecanna live quiet like Loudon folk--we haena sae muckle to do. It'simpossible."

  "Well, Hobbie," said the Laird, "for one who believes so deeply as youdo in supernatural appearances, I must own you take Heaven in your ownhand rather audaciously, considering where we are walking."

  "What needs I care for the Mucklestane-Moor ony mair than ye doyoursell, Earnscliff?" said Hobbie, something offended; "to be sure,they do say there's a sort o' worricows and lang-nebbit things about theland, but what need I care for them? I hae a good conscience, and littleto answer for, unless it be about a rant amang the lasses, or a sploreat a fair, and that's no muckle to speak of. Though I say it mysell, Iam as quiet a lad and as peaceable--"

  "And Dick Turnbull's head that you broke, and Willie of Winton whom youshot at?" said his travelling companion.

  "Hout, Earnscliff, ye keep a record of a' men's misdoings--Dick's head'shealed again, and we're to fight out the quarrel at Jeddart, on theRood-day, so that's like a thing settled in a peaceable way; and then Iam friends wi' Willie again, puir chield--it was but twa or three haildraps after a'. I wad let onybody do the like o't to me for a pint o'brandy. But Willie's lowland bred, poor fallow, and soon frighted forhimsell--And, for the worricows, were we to meet ane on this very bit--"

  "As is not unlikely," said young Earnscliff, "for there stands your oldwitch, Hobbie."

  "I say," continued Elliot, as if indignant at this hint--"I say, if theauld carline hersell was to get up out o' the grund just before us here,I would think nae mair--But, gude preserve us, Earnscliff; what can yon,be!"