Latest / Classic Adventure Books Library / 21 - Kidnapped - Robert Louis Stevenson
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- Chapter twenty one, The Flight in the Heather the Hue of Kornakich. Early as day comes in the beginning of July, it was still dark when we reached our destination, a cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a water running through the midst and upon the one hand a shallow cave in a rock. Birches grew there in a thin, pretty wood, which if little farther on, was changed into a wood of pines. The burn was full of trout, the wood of kushat. Doves on the open side of the mountain. Beyond WAPs would be always whistling, and cuckoos were plentiful. From the mouth of the cleft we looked down upon a part of Mamour and on the sea lock that divides that country from Appen, And this from so great a height as made it my continual wonder and pleasure to sit and behold them. The name of the cleft was the Hue of Kornakich, And although from its height and being so near upon the sea, it was often beset with clouds, yet it was on the whole a pleasant place, and the five days we lived in it went happily. We slept in the cave, making our bed of heather bushes which we cut for that purpose, and covering our sails with Allan's greatcoat. There was a low, concealed place in a turning of the glen, where we were so bold as to make fire, so that we could warm ourselves when the clouds set in, and cook hot porridge, and grill the little trouts that we caught with our hands under the stones and overhanging banks of the bern. This was indeed our chief pleasure and business, and not only to save our meal against worse times, but with a rivalry that much amused us. We spent a great part of our days at the water side, stripped to the waist and groping about, or as they say, beddling for these fish. The largest we got might have been a quarter of a pound, but they were of good flesh and flavor, and when broiled upon the coals, lacked only a little salt to be delicious in any by time, Alan must teach me to use my sword, for my ignorance had much distressed him, and I think besides, as I had sometimes the upper hand of him and the fishing, he was not sorry to turn to an exercise, where he had so much the upper hand of me, he made it somewhat more of a pain than need have been. For he stormed at me all through the lessons in a very violent manner of scolding, and would push me so close that I made sure he must run me through the body. I was often tempted to turn tail, but held my ground for all that, and got some profit of my lessons, if it was but to stand on guard with an assured countenance, which is often all that is required. So though I could never in the least please my master, I was not altogether displeased with myself. In the meantime, you were not to suppose that we neglected our chief business, which was to get away. It will be many a long day, Alan said to me in our first morning, before the radcoats think upon seeking Korinakich. So now we must get words sent to James. He must find the Siller force. And how shall we send that word? Says I. We are here in a desert place which yet we dare not leave. And unless you get the fowls of the air to be your messengers, I see not what we shall be able to do. I said Allan you're a man of small contrivance, David. Thereupon he fell in a muse, looking in the embers of the fire, and presently, getting a piece of wood, he fashioned it in a cross, the four ends of which he blackened on the coals. Then he looked at me a little shyly. Could you lend me my button? Says he. It seems a strange thing to ask a gift again, But I own I am laith to cut another. I gave him the button, whereupon he strung it on a strip of his greatcoat, which he had used to bind the cross, and tying in a little sprig of birch and another of fir He looked upon his work with satisfaction. Now said he. There is a little Klachen, what is called a hamlet in the English, not very far from Kornakhich, and it has the name of Koalisnikhan. There there are living many friends of mine whom I could trust with my life, and some that I am no just so sure of. You see, David, there would be money set upon our heads. James himself had to set money on them. And as for the campbells, they would never spare Siller. Where there was a steward to be hurt. If it was otherwise, I would go down to Koalisna Khan whatever, and trust my life into these people's hands as lightly as I would trust another with my glove. But being so said I, being so said he, I would as lief they did not see me. There's bad folk everywhere, and what's far worse weak ones. So when it comes dark again, I will steal down into that clakhan and set this that I have been making in the window of a good friend of mine, John Breck mac call a booman of appens with all my heart, says I. And if he finds it, what is he to think? Well, says Allan, I wish he was a man of more penetration, for by my troth, I'm afraid he will make little enough of it. But this is what I have in mind. This cross is something in the nature of the cross tarry or fiery cross, which is the signal of gathering in our clans. Yet he will know well enough the clan is not to rise, for there it is standing in his window, and no word with it. So he will say to himself the clan is not to rise, but there is something. Then he will see my button, and that was Duncan Stuart's. And then he will say to himself, the son of Duncan is in the heather and has need of me. Well, said I, it may be, But even supposing so, there is a good deal of heather between here and the fourth. And that is a very true word, says Allen. But then John Breck will see the sprig of birch and the sprig of pine, and he will say to himself, if he is a man of any penetration at all, which I misdoubt, Allan will be lying in a wood which is both of pines and birches, then he will think to hisself, that is not so very right hereabout? And then he will come and give us a look up in Kornaki. And if he does not, David the devil may fly away with him. For what I care for he will be no wor the salt to his porridge. Amen, said I. Drolling with him a little, You are very ingenious, but would it not be simpler for you to write him a few words in black and white? And that is an excellent observe. Mister Balfour of Shaws, said Alan, drolling with me, And it would certainly be much simpler for me to write to him, but it would be a sore job for John Breck to read it. He would have to go to the school for two three years, and it's possible we might be wearied waiting on him. So that night Alan carried down his fiery cross and set it in the bowman's window. He was troubled when he came back, for the dogs had barked, and the folk run out from their houses, and he thought he had heard a clatter of arms and seen a redcoat come to one of the doors. On all accounts, we lay the next day in the borders of the wood and kept a close lookout, so that if it was John Breck that came, we might be ready to guide him, and if it was the Redcoats, we should have time to get away. About noon a man was to be spied straggling up the open side of the mountain in the sun, and looking round him as he came from under his hand. No sooner had Allan seen him than he whistled. The man turned and came a little towards us, than Allan would give another peep, and the man would come still nearer, And so by the sound of whistling. He was guided to the spot where we lay. He was a ragged, wild bearded man about forty, grossly disfigured with a smallpox, and looked both dull and savage. Although his English was very bad and broken. Yet Allan, according to his very handsome use whenever I was by, would suffer him to speak no Gaelic. Perhaps the strange language made him appear more backward than he really was, But I thought he had little good will to serve us, and what he had was the child of terror. Alan would have had him carry a message to James, but the bowman would hear of no message. She was forget it, he said in his screaming voice, and would either have a letter or wash his hands of us. I thought Allan would be graveled at that, for we lacked the means of writing in that desert. But he was a man of more resources than I knew. Searched the wood until he found the quill of a cushet dove, which he shaped into a pen, made himself a kind of ink with gunpowder from his horn and water from the running stream, and tearing a corner from his French military commission which he carried in his pocket like a talisman to keep him from the gallows. He sat down and wrote his follows, Dear Kinsman, please send the money by the bearer to the place he cans of your affectionate cousin a s. This he entrusted to the bowman, who promised to make what manner of speed he best could, and carried it off with him down the hill. He was three full days gone, but about five in the evening of the third we heard a whistling in the wood, which Allan answered, And presently the bowman came up the water side, looking for us right and left. He seemed less sulky than before, and indeed he was no doubt well pleased to have got to the end of such a dangerous commission. He gave us the news of the country, that it was alive with red coats, that arms were being found and poor folk brought in trouble daily, and that James and some of his servants were already clapped in prison at Fort William under strong suspicion of complicity. It seemed it was noised on all sides that Alan Breck had fired the shot, and there was a bill issued for both him and me, with one hundred pounds reward. This was all as bad as could be, and the little note the bowman had carried us from Missus Stewart was of a miserable sadness. In it. She besought Allan not to let himself be captured, assuring him if he fell in the hands of the troops, both he and James were no better than dead men. The money she had sent was all that she could beg or borrow, as she prayed heaven we could be doing with it. Lastly, she said, she enclosed us one of the bills in which we were described. This we looked upon with great curiosity and not a little fear, partly as a man may look in a mirror, partly as he might look into the barrel of an enemy's gun, to judge if it be truly aimed. Allan was advertised as a small, pock marked active man of thirty five or thereby dressed in a feathered hat, a French side coat of blue with silver buttons and lace, a great deal tarnished, a red waistcoat and breeches of black shag I as a tall, strong lad of about eighteen, wearing an old blue coat, very ragged, an old Highland bonnet, a long homespun waistcoat, blue breeches, his legs bare, low country shoes, wanting the toes, speaks like a lowlander and has no beard. Alan was well enough pleased to see his finery so fully remembered and set down. Only when he came to the word tarnish he looked upon his lace like one a little mortified. As for myself, I thought I cut a miserable figure in the bill, And yet was well enough pleased too, For since I had changed these rags, the description had ceased to be a danger and became a source of safety. Allan said I, you should change your clothes. Na troth, said Allan, aDNA others a fine sight it would be if I went back to France and a bonnet. This put a second reflection in my mind, that if I were to separate from Allan and his tell tale clothes, I should be safe against a rest and might go openly about my business. Nor was this all for suppose I was arrested when I was alone, there was a little again aainst me. But suppose I was taken in company with the reputed murderer, my case would begin to be grave. For generosity's sake, I dare not speak my mind upon this head, but I thought of it none the less. I thought of it all the more too, when the bowman brought out a green purse with four guineas in gold and the best part of another in small change. True it was more than I had, But then Alan, with less than five guineas, had to get as far as France, I with my less than two, not beyond Queen's ferry, so that taking things in their proportion, Allan's society was not only apparel to my life, but a burden on my purse. But there was no thought of the sort in the honest head of my companion. He believed he was serving, helping and protecting me. And what could I do but hold my peace and chafe and take my chance of it. It's little enough, said Allan, putting the purse in his pocket. But it'll do my business. And now, John Breck, if you will hand me over my button, this gentleman and me wolf be for taking the road. But the bowman, after feeling about in a hairy purse that hung in front of him in the Highland, manner, though he wore otherwise the lowland habit with sea trousers. Began to roll his eyes strangely, and at last said PERNANSO will loss it, meaning he thought he had lost it. What cried Alan, You will lose my button that was my father's before me. Now I will tell you what is in my mind, John Breck, It is in my mind. This is the worst day's work that ever you did since she was born. And as Alan spoke, he set his hands on his knees and looked at the bowman with a smiling mouth and that dancing light in his eyes that meant mischief to his enemies. Perhaps the bowman was honest enough, Perhaps he it meant to cheat. And then, finding himself alone with two of us in a desert place, cast back to honesty as being safer at least, And all at once he seemed to find that button and handed it to Allan. Well, and it is a good thing for the honor of the Maccalls, said Allan. And then to me, here is my button back again, and I thank you for parting with it, which is of a piece with all your friendships to me. Then he took the warmest parting of the bowmen, for says he Ye've done very well by me. I'd set your neck at a venture, and I will always give you the name of a good man. Lastly, the bowman took himself off by one way, and Alan and I, getting our chattels together, struck into another to resume our flight. End of chapter