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At
what stage the silent waiting host became apparent to the Campbells
in the camp was not evident to the watchers a mile off. Certainly no
sudden outcry arose, no obvious alarm. The waiting period had been
partly filled, for the Catholic portion of the royalist army - which
was the major part of it - by their priests stepping forward and
making the sign of the cross with their arms while the men knelt
bare-kneed in die wet grass and prayed aloud. There was no snow lying
at this sea-Ievel, and the drizzle had ceased; but the chill was
daunting, especially for men with empty stomachs, stiff with wet
lying. It was Candlemas Day, the 2nd of February. Let them pray.

But
chilled waiting, and even prayer, was scarcely the best aid for
morale in fiery Celtic troops; and presently, with indications that a
wintry, watery sun was rising behind the vast rearing bulk of Ben
Nevis, Montrose decided to seek to expedite matters somewhat. He had
two trumpeters, his own and Colkitto's, for use in blowing certain
basic calls during battle, advance, charge, pause, retire and so on.
Now he unfolded the great and handsome Royal Standard - which he had
carried these many grim miles wrapped within a plaid around either
his own shoulders or his son's - and ordering the trumpeters to sound
the Royal Salute, he had the silken banner hoisted high on a lance in
the morning breeze, while the mountainsides echoed and re-echoed with
the stirring, challenging bugle-notes. A great yell went up from the
ranks of the Celtic host - and they would have surged forward there
and then had not the leaders sternly held them back.

At
last, visible reaction came from the Inverlochy camp. It was not to
be credited that they had not been observed hitherto; therefore the
enemy must have been making some hurried decisions and dispositions,
even though nothing was visible from this distance. But now homs
sounded from the Campbell positions and the movement of men became
evident and purposeful. Then a flash drew all eyes and a single
resounding explosion shook the surrounding hills. A column of water
and mud spurted up from the flats half-way between the two hosts. An
involuntary indrawn sigh spoke eloquendy from the royalist ranks.
Argyll could also make a gesture. He had artillery at Inverlochy,
even though it was as yet well out of range. ,

Montrose
frowned, but not too blackly. He had hoped that they would not have
to face cannon-fire; but he had not excluded the possibility. They
would only be field-pieces, here, pray God - in which case they could
not have an effective range of over half a mile. He hoped what he had
planned might nullify any such, in some measure at least-Then, to the
astonishment of all, Argyll staged another gesture. Three horsemen
suddenly emerged from the castle gateway, and went cantering down the
quarter-mile track to the loch-shore, plain to be seen. There a
number of small fishing-cobles were drawn up on the beach. Two of the
horsemen dismounted, clambered into one of these, and were rowed out
to a larger craft which lay moored offshore in deeper water. The
third turned and trotted back to the castle with the horses.

None
who had witnessed what had happened at Inveraray that other early
morning five weeks before was in any doubts as to what this meant.
That was a similar vessel, probably die selfsame galley in which
MacCailean
Mor
had
fled that day. Here he was at the same ploy, removing himself to
safety before any possible danger could arise for himself.

A
howl of execration, contempt and sheer fury arose from the royalist
ranks - and was promptly answered by another shattering discharge,
and a second cannon-ball - which did not reach even so far as the
first. Somebody in the camp, no doubt Sir Donald Campbell of
Auchenbreck, was more aggressively inclined than was the chief of all
the Campbells. Although aggression could be demonstrated on more
than the physical plane.

The
galley was up-anchoring and its double banks of oars beginning to
impel it out into mid-loch.

'The
man is at least consistent!' Montrose declared to Airlie. ‘I
fear that he will survive us all I'

'For
so ill-favoured a creature he rates his own hide high
1'
Airlie's
son, Sir Thomas Ogilvy, snorted. 'Has he no sense of shame? In front
of all his people!'

'His
sense of his own consequence outdoes all,' Sir David the brother,
said. 'After a fashion, there is a sort of pride in it, He cares not
what others think of him, knowing himself to be all-important,
irreplaceable. Few men, I vow, are made of such stuff!'

Montrose
nodded. You are right, David. I have come to believe it is not all
craven cowardice. The man is unassailable in his
self-righteousness - and therefore dangerous. Harder to deal with
than a dozen paladins!'

'Aye.
And what paladins has he left behind to fight for him there?' Airlie
wondered. ‘I think we shall soon know. See - he hauls to in the
loch. Out of harm's way. To watch. Auchenbreck, his own cousin, has
the name of a hard and savage man.'

'But
proud,' the Graham added. 'I have heard that he is notably proud.
I
pray
that he is, indeed. For so
I
hope
to draw him. He has twice our numbers - and will see but part of us.
I cannot believe that he will relish his master's careful departure.
He will be smarting under it - as any true soldier would. His cannon
cannot reach us, here. I believe, I hope, I pray, that he will come
out to teach us our lesson, advance to show us that the Campbells are
not all poltroons. Get within cannon-shot of us. And to do that, he
must do so, directy to yonder tongue of firmer land between us. Or
else make a great circuit round to the north. Which would take time,
and allow us opportunity to retire and take up new and stronger
positions on the hillside. I think that he will come directly at us.
Where we want him!'

Very
quickly thereafter it became evident that Montrose's thinking had
been accurate. To tuck of drum, disciplined companies of foot began
to issue from the camp almost straight for them, long columns of
musketeers and pikemen, marching four abreast, with banners. The
Graham sighed a little at the sight - for this answered his questions
to Ian Lorn. The sixteen companies of Lowland militia regulars
had
reached
Argyll - for only such would advance thus. The odds, therefore, were
lengthened considerably.

It
was trying to stand idly by and watch the enemy power build up, so
much greater than their own, march forth and take up advantageous
positions before them, without lifting a hand to interfere. It went
against every instinct in the Highland fighting man. But Montrose's
orders were emphatic. This battle was to be fought his way, or not at
all. Outnumbered three to one at least, no amount of wild heroism was
going to serve for victory - although plenty of that would be
required also. Only carefully thought-out strategy could win the day
for them - with God's help -which was why James Graham had hardly
closed his eyes that cold night.

The
seemingly unending companies of militia filed steadily forward across
the soft and marshy pastures, no doubt congratulating themselves
on not being attacked while they were doing so, leaping the ditches
and runnels, until they reached the long whaleback of good ground,
where they split into two, one half marching on to the extreme right,
the other left, eastwards. Clearly they were to form the wings of
Auchenbreck's array. The rise was about one-third of a mile long, and
averaging some
300
yards
in width. Montrose reckoned that
1000
and
more of the militia were taking up their stance thereon.

Now
the mass of the Campbell irregulars were surging out from the
encampment area, not in any orderly ranks. There was no counting
these, and however undisciplined, they were known to be fearless
fighters. For long they streamed out and across the levels, making it
clear that there must be much more of the camp beyond the castle, in
the dead ground behind. It seemed as though the whaleback rise could
never possibly hold them all.

When
at last this great host was all out, came a group of mounted men, not
cavalry but Campbell lairds, in the Lowland garb which most of
them affected. There were some thirty to forty of these, sitting
proudly, some with banners. At sight of them, a long snarling arose
from the MacDonald ranks. These were the hated ones, rather than the
ordinary Campbell clansmen, these were the oppressors of the
Highland West, the rich and able men with the Lowland law in
their pockets, the ear of government, die proclivity for being always
on the winning side - and the heavily laden gallows-trees. Behind
them staggered long columns of men straining and tugging on ropes,
drawing two brass cannon, which made heavy going on the soft wet
ground. With them came files of shaggy garrons, laden with panniers
no doubt containing powder and shot. Finally emerged the reserve
and rearguard, more militia and a mixed crowd of clansmen, with some
mounted officers.

It
is a great host,' James Graham said. far more than we are. Can we
hope to hold them? Those cannon - they bring them near to us. Will
they not shoot us down, and we can do nothing? They will be in range,
will they not? On that bank?'

'Range,
yes,' his father admitted. 'Just. But
..
. wait you. More than range is needed. They require a clear field of
fire. Do you see them getting it?'

The
boy bit his lip. He considered himself to be a veteran soldier now -
even though a less robust one than he tried to appear, with an
unmanly cough like a bairn and a tendency to shakes and shivers,
fight against them as he would. He had, however, no experience of
artillery.

Soon
his father's meaning, and planning, became evident, to him as to
others. The cannon, even when dragged to die highest point of the
whaleback, were still too low set to fire over the heads of the
massed men thereon, so slight was the rise. And so tight-packed were
the enemy that clearing any sort of avenue down which to shoot would
be a difficult matter. The great numbers of the foe were here working
to their own disadvantage.

Not
that Montrose intended to allow them any time for a reappraisal of
the situation. As the field-pieces reached the firm ground, and the
long teams of haulers pushed in amongst the crowded ranks of
clansmen, causing maximum upset, the Graham raised his arm towards
Magnus O'Cahan waiting and watching eagerly on the left flank. And
with a deafening yell, long continued, his force of Islesmen and
Macleans flung themselves forward, at last, in headlong charge,
broadswords out.

This
tip of the royalist crescent was the nearest of all to the enemy,
only about
400
yards
separating them from the Lowland militia. These musketeers and
pikemen had been in England fighting the Cavaliers, and had never
seen or faced a Highlanders' charge - quite the most terrifying and
unnerving ordeal in the military experience. Casting aside their
plaids, stripped to the waist, dirks in left hand, broadswords
in right, yelling their fierce slogans and bounding like deer over
the soft ground,
300
of
them bearing down on any static body of men, however disciplined, was
a fearsome sight to contemplate. Not too much to be blamed,
undoubtedly, the officer in command of the enemy right wing was
over-early in giving his order to fire - and his men all too eager to
respond. At far too extreme a range the matchlocks blazed, and the
ball went whistling across the levels amidst impressive clouds of
smoke and with a mighty banging. But only one or two men fell as a
consequence. And it was highly doubtful whether there would be time
to reload the unwieldy muzzle-loaders, as the officers bawled orders
to do.