He had not told his mother for fear of worrying her. But his head was often heavy, and he could not sleep with the sound of the bagpipes.
Poor little Ian! If only Sandy would return!
On this dull, misty day as he swung his feet from the wall of the brig, Ian could not stop the sound. Nearer and nearer it came!
Then, "Bonny laddie, Highland laddie," chanted the pipes. Ian looked up and saw standing before him his Sandy!
Although he was as red and wrinkled and twinkling as before, there was a change. Sandy was very shabby. His coat was stained with the mud and rain of many hard days.
He stopped his playing and stood before the boy. A sad, longing look came into his eyes.
"Ian, lad," he said slowly, ""tis Sandy come back."
And Ian suddenly realized that it was all true and not one of his dreams. He jumped down from the wall and threw his arms about Sandy.
"Ach, Sandy," he cried. Then he stood back and pointed to the lamb.
Evidently Sandy had not noticed it.
"And do you not see our beastie, Sandy? "Tis the same you left with me, and well and fat she is."
Sandy turned and looked at Betty. But he did not talk as Ian had expected him to, nor did he compliment Ian on the lamb"s well-being.
He only stood fingering his pipes and slowly shaking his head.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "SANDY HIMSELF WILL TEACH YOU TO PLAY"]
As Ian stared in wonderment, the piper lifted his bagpipes from his shoulder and handed them to the boy.
"Your pipes are here, lad, and Sandy keeps his promise!" he said.
Without thinking Ian put out his arms to receive the instrument. His eyes, however, did not leave his friend"s face.
"But, Sandy, these are your own pipes you"re giving me!" he said, as if he could hardly believe it, after looking down at what Sandy had placed in his arms.
"Ay, lad," answered Sandy, "and now you can be a fine piper, and Sandy himself will teach you to play."
Then Sandy told Ian the sad story of Jamie Robinson. He explained how he had sold nearly all his worldly goods to help the little family and put them on their feet again. He told of how he had left them comfortably settled near a prosperous village. He had made Jamie promise to work and save for his little brood.
Sandy also told how he had come all the way to keep his promise to the boy. He said, too, that now, as in Aberfoyle there was no piper, he expected to stay here and take Jamie Robinson"s place if Ian would lend him his pipes each day for awhile. And in return, he would teach the lad to play!
"For I"m not so young as I was, laddie, and the wandering life is over for me," he added.
When Ian heard these plans, he was beside himself with joy. He hugged first Sandy, then Roy, and then Betty. At last the piper became his old jolly self once more and laughed.
"Ay, lad, we"ll share the pipes together, though they belong to you.
But old Sandy will have to make a living, and he"ll teach you all the tunes he knows!"
No happier boy than Ian Craig lived in Scotland that night. Standing before the door of the cottage, he puffed and blew on his pipes. There issued forth the sound of a thousand sheep all bleating at once but all in pain! Sandy listened from his tent on the hill opposite and chuckled to himself.
Roy was also in pain as he listened. His delicate ears were unused to this shrieking and squealing. He joined in the din with loud howls.
The baby within the house was in sympathy, too, and added her wails.
So Sandy"s first evening as a resident in Aberfoyle was not a quiet one. He was forced to stop his ears.
Mrs. Craig was unable to stand the racket. So she pulled her puffing son into the house and packed him off to bed, to the great relief of all.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE SOUND OF HIS PIPES ECHOED BACK THROUGH THE GLEN]
But Ian was a quick and hard-working pupil. It was not long before Roy quite approved of the sounds his master made on his pipes. He did not then feel it necessary to amend the melody.
Also the baby gurgled with glee. She puffed out her cheeks in imitation of Ian and laughed happily. And Betty, the lamb, too, seemed to know that all was well. The world was in tune with the wee Scotch piper who had, at last, realized his dreams.
""Tis the close of the day At the foot of the ben, And the sound of his pipes Echoes back through the glen."
CHAPTER XI
THE WEE SCOTCH PIPER
It was a cloudless day in the big Scotch city. The people seemed to feel that something unusual was about to happen. Everyone wore his best, and the city fairly shone with the reds and blues and greens of tartan kilts and bonnets.
Soldiers paraded the streets. Children hurried along by their parents"
sides, anxious to arrive at the big grand stand in time. Numerous bystanders flanked the wide street.
All the people were breathless with excitement. Even the usual crowding traffic suspended its pushing and shrill tooting. For this was a great day in Scotland. Many celebrations occur at intervals in this land of excursions and picnics. But to-day was as the children would say, "extra special."
The huge grand stand was overcrowded with eager Scotchmen, with their wives and bairns. They all strained their eyes for a glimpse of the great "kiltie band," which was to march down the street.
Among those who watched, and perhaps the most eager of all, were a family of country folk. In bobbing black bonnet sat a calm-faced old lady. Beside her was a rugged old man. Both were in their best array.
Both were longing for the sight they had come miles from their little farm to see.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WEE SCOTCH PIPER]
The couple were none other than Alan Craig and his wife. The sight that their old eyes would soon see, as the happy tears dimmed their view, would be their son, their Ian. He was now a tall, manly piper in kilted uniform, marching and piping with the flower of Scotland"s army.
By their side sat another. His kindly face shone with pride, and in his heart was a singing joy.
For Sandy MacGregor had taught this lad to play. It was the same old pipes of Sandy MacGregor that he still used. He would soon show those pipes to a cheering crowd as his fingers flew over the chanter. While he played, his arm would shelter the tartan bellows once sheltered by Sandy"s own arm as the old piper had wandered over hill and through dale.
Sandy MacGregor had lived many years for this moment. As he craned his neck for a sight of the coming parade, he spoke to the little girl beside him.
"See, Betty, "tis they coming now."
Betty, Ian"s baby sister, was now a girl of the age Ian had been when first Sandy had met him.