Hunted and Harried

Hunted and Harried, by R.M.
Ballantyne

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Title: Hunted and Harried
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Release Date: June 7, 2007 [EBook #21738]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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AND HARRIED ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

HUNTED AND HARRIED, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
ON THE HUNT.

On a brilliant summer morning in the last quarter of the seventeenth
century a small troop of horsemen crossed the ford of the river Cairn, in
Dumfriesshire, not far from the spot where stands the little church of
Irongray, and, gaining the road on the western bank of the stream,
wended their way towards the moors and uplands which lie in the
neighbourhood of Skeoch Hill.
The dragoons, for such they were, trotted rapidly along the road that led
into the solitudes of the hills, with all the careless dash of men whose
interests are centred chiefly on the excitements of the passing hour, yet
with the unflagging perseverance of those who have a fixed purpose in
view--their somewhat worn aspect and the mud with which they were
bespattered, from jack-boot to iron headpiece, telling of a long ride
over rugged ground.
The officer in command of the party rode a little in advance. Close
behind him followed two troopers, one of whom was a burly
middle-aged man with a stern, swarthy countenance; the other a youth
whose tall frame was scarcely, if at all, less powerful than that of his
comrade-in-arms, though much more elegant in form, while his
youthful and ruddy, yet masculine, countenance suggested that he must
at that time have been but a novice in the art of war.
This youth alone, of all the party, had a somewhat careworn and sad
expression on his brow. It could hardly have been the result of fatigue,
for there was more of ease and vigour in his carriage than in that of any
of his companions.
"We should be near the river by this time, Glendinning," said the leader
of the party, reining in and addressing the swarthy trooper.
"Ay, sir, the Cluden rins jist ayont the turn o' the road there," replied
the man. "Ye'll hear the roar o' the fa' in a meenit or twa."
Even as he spoke the dull growl of a cataract was heard, and, a few
minutes later, the party came upon the ford of the river.
It was situated not many yards below the picturesque waterfall, which

is now spanned by the Routen Bridge, but which, at that time, was
unbridged--at all events, if a bridge had previously existed, it had fallen
in or been carried away--and the wild gorge was impassable.
The sound of the fall alone told of its vicinity, for a dense mass of
foliage hid it completely from the troopers' view until they had
surmounted the steep bank on the other side of the stream.
"Are you well acquainted with this man Black?" asked the leader of the
party as they emerged from the thick belt of trees and shrubs by which
the Cluden was shaded, and continued their journey on the more open
ground beyond.
"I ken him weel, sir," answered the trooper. "Andrew Black was an
auld freend o' mine, an' a big, stoot, angry man he is--kindly disposed,
nae doot, when ye let him alane, but a perfe't deevil incarnate when he's
roosed. He did me an ill turn ance that I've no paid him off for yet."
"I suppose, then," said the officer, "that your guiding us so willingly to
his cottage is in part payment of this unsettled debt?"
"Maybe it is," replied the trooper grimly.
"They say," continued the other, "that there is some mystery about the
man; that somehow nobody can catch him. Like an eel he has slipped
through our fellows' fingers and disappeared more than once, when
they thought they had him quite safe. It is said that on one occasion he
managed even to give the slip to Claverhouse himself, which, you
know, is not easy."
"That may be, sir, but he'll no slip through my fingers gin I ance git a
grup o' his thrapple," said the swarthy man, with a revengeful look.
"We must get a grip of him somehow," returned the officer, "for it is
said that he is a sly helper of the rebels--though it is as difficult to
convict as to catch him; and as this gathering, of which our spies