By Loch and by Lin (6 page)

“Whether I live or die,” Fair Johnnie said, “those three milk-kine are going to Liddesdale this night with me.”

So stealthily did the two thieves work that scarcely a sound was heard in the stillness of the night. But they broke the house wall open wide, and through the gap they took the three fine kine of Dick o' the Cow.

As they started on their homeward way, driving the kine before, Wullie stopped his brother and said, “The kine are good and make it worth coming so far. But we need a bit of gear beside, to make the value more.”

So Wullie went through the gap in the wall again, and crept around and about in the house, and he stole three coverlets off the bed where Dick and his wife were lying asleep.

When morning came, Dick's wife arose, and saw the hole in the wall. She soon discovered the kine were gone, and her three coverlets as well. She shouted and cried and wrung her hands, and wildly ran about.

But Dick cried out. “Wife, hauld your tongue! From your weeping let me be. I'll go, and for each cow you've lost, I swear that I'll bring you back the worth of three!”

He knew where his kine had gone and who had taken them away, for had he not met with Fair Johnnie Armstrong and young Wullie, his brother, over the hill the night before?

So Dick went off to Hutton Hall to tell his sad tale to his master there, but his master thought it was one of Dick's foolish jokes and paid him little heed.

“Be off with you, Dick!” said the laird. “I have no time for your jests this morn.”

“I've no time for jesting myself,” said Dick. “And what I tell you is true. The Liddesdale Armstrongs were in my house last night, and they've stolen away my three fine kine, and three coverlets off my bed.”

“That's very bad, and very sad,” said the laird. “But what would you have me do?”

“I can no longer in Cumberland stay to be your fool and your loyal man,” said Dick. “So, master, give me leave to go to Liddesdale and steal.”

“Give you leave to steal!” cried the laird. “That, by my honor, I cannot do, unless you vow on your solemn oath to steal from none but those men who stole from you.”

“I give you my promise,” said Dick o' the Cow. “And I swear by my troth to you that I will not steal so much as a straw from any but those who stole from me!”

Then Dick o' the Cow took leave of the laird, and went and bade his wife farewell. As he went through the town he bought a good bridle and a pair of new spurs and packed them into the leg of his breeks and started for Liddesdale.

The Laird's Jock kept his house at Tenisborne, and in the Laird's Jock's house were Fair Johnnie, his young brother, Wullie, and a score and ten of the Armstrong kin. Dick came to the Laird's Jock's house and looked about him on every side. Here and there, indoors and out, he saw Armstrongs galore.

“Wow! Here am I, one innocent fool,” said Dick to himself. “And the Armstrongs number thirty-and-three!”

But he stepped inside the house and went straight to the chair where the Laird's Jock sat.

“Well may ye be, good Laird's Jock,” he said, “and well may ye ever be. But the de'il himself may fly away with all your company. Last night Fair Johnnie, that limmer o' hell, and his brother Wullie, too, they broke into my house and stole away my three good kine and three of my goodwife's coverlets.”

Fair Johnnie jumped to his feet in a rage. “Hang the fool,” cried he. “Fetch me a good strong rope, for I swear he'll not go out of Liddesdale alive!”

“Nay,” said Wullie, “to hang the fool would be a troublesome job. Slip a wee dirk between his ribs. That way 'twill be easier far.”

“Hauld, now!” cried Geordie's John, one of the kin. “Why kill him, poor silly man? Toss him in a four-cornered sheet, and then beat him well and let him go home.”

“While this is my house,” the Laird's Jock said, “we'll have no hanging or slayer or beating here!” And he stared them down with an angry eye. “Sit ye down, man,” he said to Dick, “and when the food's ready, you shall have some of your own kye.”

But Dick drew back to a nook by the fire when the dinner was set down. He wanted no food, for he knew well he never could stomach the meat of his stolen cow.

In the house of the Laird's Jock there was a rule that those who came late for the meal should have none at all, but must bide their time until the next mealtime came around. That made those lads who were last to come in hastier than they should have been for fear they might be forced to fast till meat was put out again. Dick from his corner by the fire saw that the ones who came in last, in their hurry not to be late, instead of hanging the key to the stable door on its hook, tossed it up on the ledge above the door. Dick took good notice with both his eyes, for he meant to make use of what he saw.

Dick curled up in his nook by the fire, and feigned to be asleep. He snorted and snored like a boiling pot, but he watched the Armstrongs all the while. They guzzled their stolen beef and their ale until they could hold no more, then every man of them settled himself, to sleep before the fire.

When Dick was sure they were all asleep, he got up and crept to the door. He took the key from the place where it lay, and out of the house he slipped. Into the stable yard he went, and opened the door with the key. Thirty-three horses were in the stalls, but Dick had an eye for only three. Thirty belonged to the Armstrong kin, and those thirty Dick tied with Saint Mary's knot which means that he cut the hamstrings of every horse and left them crippled behind in their stalls. Then he let loose the other three. He took them into the stableyard where the moon shone bright, to let him see that he had Fair Johnnie's, young Wullie's, and the Laird's Jock's horses, all three. Dick took out the bridle and spurs that he'd tucked away safely in the leg of his breeks. He put the spurs upon himself and the bridle on Wullie's steed, then he leaped on Fair Johnnie's horse and tickled its sides with his spurs.

The spurs were new and the spurs were sharp, and Fair Johnnie's horse reared when he felt their steel. Away he dashed at a good round pace, as if the de'il were at his tail, and Wullie's horse was close by its side, for Dick held fast to its bridle rein. But Dick left the horse of the Laird's Jock behind, loose in the stable yard, for the Armstrongs to see that Dick could have taken him too if he liked, but he would not steal from the Laird's Jock, who had stolen naught from him.

Fair Johnnie rose in the early morn and went out to the stable to feed his horse, but the creature was not there. His brother Wullie's was gone as well, and his kinsmen's were crippled, every one, and the only horse left of thirty-three was the one that belonged to the Laird's Jock.

Fair Johnnie ran back into the house and woke his father up. “Wake up, Laird's Jock!” he cried. “That silly fool, Dick o' the Cow, has gone off with Wullie's horse and mine. There's thirty tied with Saint Mary's knot, and your own is the only one left that a man can ride.”

“You ne'er would be told!” the Laird's Jock said. “Now, did I not tell you true when I said to keep out of Cumberland or trouble would come to you?”

“Who would have thought that an innocent could be as canny as he?” said Fair Johnnie. “Och, come now, Laird's Jock, will you not lend me your horse, that I may go into Cumberland and fetch my own horse and Wullie's home?”

The Laird's Jock said, “No!” and he said, “No!” and he said, “No!” again, but Fair Johnnie would not hold his tongue until the Laird's Jock agreed. So the Laird's Jock lent Fair Johnnie his horse, and arms and armor beside—a coat of mail, and a steel head-cape, and a two-handed sword, and a spear.

Fair Johnnie put the armor on and took his sword and his spear, and away he galloped on the Laird's Jock's horse in pursuit of Dick o' the Cow. He caught up with Dick on Carnaby Lea, and Dick turned and stood his ground. Fair Johnnie hurled his spear at Dick, but it missed and went to the side, and it did no harm but to cut a slit in the skirt of the jerkin Dick wore. Fair Johnnie took up his two-handed sword and rode at Dick with a frightful yell.

“No swordsman am I,” said Dick o' the Cow, “but I have a sword myself.” So then Dick drew his own sword out, and waited for Johnnie to come by, and more by luck than by any skill, he dinged Fair Johnnie a blow on the brow with the pommel of his sword. The blow put Fair Johnnie in a daze and all his wits were gone. He pitched over the head of the Laird's Jock's horse and lay as if dreaming on the ground.

Dick saw that he'd be sleeping a while. Said he, “I've won the battle this day. And from all I've heard, it's not stealing at all to carry the spoils of battle away. And though this is the Laird's Jock's gear, and his horse, 'tis Fair Johnnie who has them now, so I'm not stealing from the Laird's Jock at all, when I take my spoils from Fair Johnnie, his son.”

When Dick rode away from Carnaby Lea, a doughty man was he, for he was clad in the jacket of mail and in the steel head-cape, too. He bore away the two-handed sword, and his own, and Fair Johnnie's spear as well. Fair Johnnie's horse he rode again, but he led at his side young Wullie's horse and the one that Fair Johnnie had borrowed from the Laird's Jock.

When Fair Johnnie woke up on Carnaby Lea, a dreary man was he. Up he got and limped off home, and he swore as he went that never again, if he lived to be a hundred years, would he fight a fool, after what had happened to him that day.

Dick rode straight to Hutton Hall to show his master what he had brought home. When the laird saw the booty he'd taken, he shouted angrily that he'd take care that Dick was hanged for all his thievery. Dick's feelings were sorely hurt at his words. “My laird,” said he, “you know well I'd never have gone into Liddesdale to steal without your permission to go. By the bargain you made with me I had the right to go and steal from those who had stolen from me.”

“I gave you that leave indeed,” said the laird. “But what made you steal from the Laird's Jock? His horse, his sword, and his jacket and head-cape and all?”

“I swear by my troth I've stolen naught from any man who has not stolen from me. The armor and the horse I took were the spoils of battle, you see, and I took them after I'd bested Fair Johnnie in a battle on Carnaby Lea. And if they were once the Laird's Jock's gear, it was from Fair Johnnie I won them away.”

“Since you have kept your word so well, I'll say no more,” said the Laird of Hutton Hall. “And I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take the Laird's Jock's horse off your hands, since you'll not be needing three.”

“Nay,” said Dick. “I'll not be needing three.”

“I'll give you one of my best milk-kine,” said the laird. “And I'll give you twenty pounds beside, for the Laird's Jock's horse.”

“My laird, I may be a fool,” said Dick, “but a bigger fool you'll not make of me. You must give me the cow and
thirty
pounds, or I'll sell the horse at Mattan Fair.”

Dick set his price and would not change, so his master had to pay. And Dick went off with a fine milk-kye, and thirty pounds that he got for the horse.

When Dick went out of Hutton Hall's gate, whom should he meet coming in but the Bailiff of Glozzenberrie, who was brother of Dick's master, the Laird of Hutton Hall.

“Where did you get Fair Johnnie's horse?” asked the bailiff. “I know the creature well, for I've seen Fair Johnnie astride its back very often, at Carlisle.”

Then Dick told the bailiff all the tale of how he went to Liddesdale and came home with booty enough to pay for his three stolen cows, that the Armstrongs had carried away.

The bailiff laughed till his sides were sore. “For a fool, you are wondrous wise!” said he. “And I'll tell you what
I
will do. I will buy Fair Johnnie's horse for the same price that my brother paid for the one he bought.”

“A man with one horse has no need of two,” said Dick o' the Cow. “He can ride but one at a time. If you will pay what my master paid, then you may have Fair Johnnie's horse.”

The bailiff gave Dick a fine milk-kye and put thirty pounds in his hand, and Dick handed over Fair Johnnie's horse and started off for his home. When Dick o' the Cow came into the house, his wife began to lament and wail.

“Now hauld your tongue, goodwife!” said he. “And from your crying leave me be! You shall no longer complain, for you have no cause that I can see. I've brought you two kine and either one is as good as all three that were stolen away, and here are sixty good pounds to pay for your three coverlets. And beside all this, there's a suit of armor, a sword and a spear, and Wullie Armstrong's horse for me.”

The very next day Dick o' the Cow went to the Laird of Hutton Hall, and a sorry man was he. “I may no longer in Cumberland dwell, to be your fool,” said he. “The Armstrongs, they live too near to this place, and I fear they'll catch me and hang me high.”

So Dick o' the Cow and his goodwife packed up their gear and flitted away. They went to Burgh under Stanimuir, and as there were no Armstrongs near, they may be living there to this day.

The Tale of

Bonnie Baby Livingston

NO one could ever hope to see a bonnier lass than Bonnie Baby Livingston. There wasn't a soul in the whole of Dundee who would not have said that she was the fairest lass in all the town. She had such sweet and winning ways that the other lasses didn't mind if she outshone them—at least not very much. And as for the lads, whenever she walked out to take the air, they came tumbling and trailing after her, like puppy dogs at her heels.

Among the throng who followed in her train there was a wild young Highland chief, the Laird of Glenlion by name. He was a big, handsome young fellow, inclined to bluster and brag a bit, and anybody could see at a glance that he thought uncommonly well of himself. When he strutted along the streets of Dundee with his Highland bonnet atilt on the side of his head, wearing a gay tartan plaidie folded over his shoulder, you couldn't miss seeing the jaunty lad. With his green velvet jacket, his fine white linen shirt with a lace frill down the front of it, and his kilt swinging to and fro in time to his swaggering stride, he was a sight to be seen. And just to add to the elegance of his costume, his sword was hung at his side and his dirk was tucked into the top of his stocking. When he passed by folk turned to gape after him, then they grinned and said, “Och, aye! The Laird o' Glenlion's loose again!”