There she was, and her laugh was most annoying to Ian. He was scolding, and at the same time trying to undo the hook from the toy bear"s fur.
"Come up here, you wee devil!" repeated Ian furiously.
Up came the culprit. Ian had to join in her laughter, though he shook his finger at her the while. She sat down beside him happily.
"Ian, do you believe in the devil?" she asked.
"Ay, do I," he answered. ""Tis yerself."
"No." Elsie shook her head seriously. "Do you know, I believe "tis like Santa Claus. "Tis your own father!"
"Ach, Elsie," laughed Ian, at the child"s idea. "You know that Santa Claus brings you dolls and toy bears and--"
Ian did not go on to complete the list, for just then he heard a sound that made his heart beat faster. Jumping down from the wall, he looked up the road. Coming toward him was Sandy!
How Elsie ever disappeared Ian never knew. Disappear she did quickly.
Afterwards, when Ian thought it over, it seemed that fairies had s.n.a.t.c.hed her away.
Whatever happened, she was not there when Sandy and Ian greeted each other. It was probably her woman"s instinct, which bade her leave these two to their men"s affairs!
[Ill.u.s.tration: SANDY ARRIVES]
How happy was Ian as his kind old friend seated himself by Ian"s side with the same boyish leap!
"Well, Ian, lad," said Sandy, "the same bonny Aberfoyle, the same bonny laddie! And do you have the same bonny dreams?"
"Ach, Sandy, more than ever before. And have you traveled far since last I saw you?"
"Ay, that have I, and many"s the tale I"ll tell you this day. But first I must show you something."
Beckoning Ian to his cart, Sandy pointed to a bundle wrapped up in his coat.
Tenderly unwrapping it, the old piper pulled out a young lamb, dirty, thin, and bleating.
""Tis a poor hurt beastie, Ian," he said. "I found it on the road. Its mother is dead, and it was left to die, too. I picked it up and now cannot care for it, as I"m wandering and have no place to keep it."
"Ach, Sandy, couldn"t I keep the wee beastie for you?" asked Ian eagerly.
Sandy stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"You could, laddie. But "t would be a while till I return--maybe not till next spring. And a lamb with no mother is a care."
"Ach, Sandy," cried the boy, "let me do it for you. I could feed it with my wee sister"s nursing bottle."
"Ach, ay, laddie! Your mother would like that fine!" laughed Sandy.
"But," he continued soberly, "if you would keep the wee creature, I could give you something for your trouble."
"No, Sandy. I would keep it for you, and gladly."
Sandy was still dubious. He was worried for fear the boy"s father would object to a charge of this kind. The lamb would need tender nursing and careful watching.
Sometimes small boys grow careless, although their intentions are of the best. Then the task falls to Father or Mother.
As Sandy was revolving these thoughts in his mind, he suddenly had a plan.
"Ian," he said, "do you remember the story I told you of the pipers at Dunblane?"
"I"ve thought of little else, Sandy," replied Ian, as he stroked the lamb. The little creature was nestling down comfortably in Sandy"s arms.
"Well, lad, uncover the plaid on my cart and see what I have there."
Ian turned back the bit of plaid covering the cart. Sandy used it to protect his personal belongings.
"Two sets o" pipes, Sandy!" exclaimed Ian.
"Ay! One was given me by a man for a service. It is not so bonny as mine but might do for a laddie learning to play!"
"Sandy, do you mean--?" Ian cried.
"Ay, lad. In the spring when I return, if this wee beastie is fine, and you have done your duty like a true shepherd, then you shall have the pipes!"
"Sandy, Sandy, is it true? May I be a piper and play the pipes like the laddies in Dunblane? Ach, Sandy!"
Ian was almost mad with joy. For a moment he forgot what service he was to render in return for this great reward. But remembering his charge, he carefully lifted the little lamb out of Sandy"s arms.
He held it tenderly in his own, and said, "You"ll find the wee beastie well and fat when you return in the spring, Sandy."
CHAPTER V
THROUGH SCOTLAND WITH SANDY
The warm air of spring was pleasant. The Craig family"s supper was spread out before the door of their cottage. They ate outdoors so that they could enjoy the beauties of the evening.
It would not be dark here until very late. Ian"s father could sit before his cottage door, reading his paper by daylight until almost eleven o"clock.
Now it was only seven. Mrs. Craig was ringing a bell, which echoed through the hills.
This was the way she called her husband and son to the evening meal.
Toward her came Ian, and some one was with him. Mrs. Craig strained her eyes to see, but she could not make out the stranger"s figure.
As they came closer, Ian ran toward his mother, calling, "Mother, I"ve brought Sandy to tea!"
The old piper politely removed his cap and stood before Ian"s mother.