Part 19 (2/2)
The supplies checking speech again, MacRummle looked around him, with benignant good-will to man and beast expressed on his countenance.
Craning their necks over a bank, and seeing the old gentleman thus pleasantly engaged, the two boys sank into the heather, and disappeared from view as completely as did ”Clan Alpine's warriors true,” after they had been shown to Fitz James by Roderick Dhu. Like two sparrows in a purple nest they proceeded to enjoy themselves.
”Now, Tonal', we will grub,” said Junkie. ”Why, what's the matter with you?” he asked, on observing a sudden fall in his companion's countenance.
”The matter?” repeated the boy. ”It iss the crub that's the matter, for I hev not a crumb with me.”
”Now, isn't that awful?” said Junkie, with a hypocritically woeful look.
”We will just have to starve. But there's plenty of water,” he added, in a consoling tone. ”Here, Tonal', take this leather cup an' fill it.
Ye can git down to the river by the back o' the bluff without bein'
noticed. See that ye make no noise, now. Mind what I said to ye.”
While Donald went at a slow, sad pace to fetch water, Junkie spread his handkerchief on the ground, and on this tablecloth laid out the following articles, which he took from a small bag that he had carried, slung on his shoulder,--a very large piece of loaf bread, a thick slice of cheese, two hard biscuits, an apple, a bit of liquorice, a ma.s.s of home-made toffee, inseparably attached to a dirty bit of newspaper, three peppermint lozenges, and a gully knife with a broken blade.
When Donald returned and beheld this feast, he opened his eyes wide.
Then, opening his mouth, he was on the point of giving vent to a cheer, when Junkie stopped him with a glance and an ominous shake of the fist.
It is to this day an undecided question which of those feasters enjoyed himself most.
”I always bring with me more than I can eat, Tonal', so you're welcome to the half. `Fair play,' as daddy says, although he sometimes keeps the fairest play to himself;” with which dutiful remark the urchin proceeded to divide the viands very justly.
It did not take long to consume the whole. But MacRummle was quicker even than they, possibly because he had enticing work still before him.
The consequence was, that he had resumed his rod unnoticed by the boys, and in the process of his amus.e.m.e.nt, had reached that part of the bank on the top of which they lay concealed. Their devotion to lunch had prevented his approach being perceived, and the first intimation they had of his near presence was the clatter of pebbles as he made a false step, and the swish of his flies above their heads as he made a cast.
The boys gazed at each other for one moment in silence, then hastily stuffed the remnant of their feast into their pockets.
Suddenly the glengarry bonnet of Junkie leaped mysteriously off his head, and dropped on the heather behind him.
”Hanked again!” growled MacRummle from the river-bed below.
Every fisher knows the difficulty of casting a long line with a steep bank behind him. Once already the old gentleman had hanked on the bank a little lower down, but so slightly that a twitch brought the flies away. Now, however, the hank was too complicated to give way to a twitch, for the glengarry held hard on to the heather. In desperate haste, Junkie, bending low, tried to extract the hook. It need scarcely be said that a hook refuses to be extracted in haste. Before he could free it, the voice of MacRummle was heard in sighs and gasps of mild exasperation as he scrambled up the bank to disentangle his line. There was no time for consideration. Junkie dropped his cap, and, rolling behind a ma.s.s of rock, squeezed himself into a crevice which was pretty well covered with pendent bracken. Donald vanished in a somewhat similar fas.h.i.+on, and both, remaining perfectly still, listened with palpitating hearts to MacRummle's approach.
”Well, well!” exclaimed the fisher in surprise; ”it's not every day I hook a fish like this. A glengarry! And Junkie's glengarry! The small rascal! Crumbs, too! ha! that accounts for it. He must have been having his lunch here yesterday, and was so taken up with victuals that he forgot his cap when he went away. Foolish boy! It is like his carelessness; but he's not a bad little fellow, for all that.”
He chuckled audibly at this point. Junkie did the same inaudibly as he watched his old friend carefully disengage the hook; but the expression of his face changed a little when he saw his cap consigned to the fisher's pocket, as he turned and descended to the stream. Having given the fisher sufficient time to get away from the spot, Junkie emerged from his hiding-place.
”Tonal',” he said, in a low voice, looking round, ”ye may come oot noo, man. He's safe away.”
The ragged head, in a broad grin, emerged from a clump of bracken.
”It wa.s.s awful amusin', Junkie, wa.s.s it not?”
”Yes, Tonal', it was; but it won't be very amusin' for me to go all the rest of the day bareheaded.”
Donald sympathised with his friend on this point, and a.s.sured him that he would have divided his cap with him, as Junkie had divided his lunch, but for the fact that he never wore a cap at all, and the ragged hair would neither divide nor come off. After this they resumed their work of d.o.g.g.i.ng the fisher's steps.
It would require a volume to relate all that was said and done on that lovely afternoon, if all were faithfully detailed; but our s.p.a.ce and the reader's patience render it advisable to touch only on two points of interest.
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