Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1867-04-18
THE CHIEFS REVENGE,
BY J. NJ. BISHOP.

Reader, were you ever in a High
land Hotel or inn2 If not, I will
describe it.
The low, heavy caves, blackened
by the smoke of half century, 9
turf fire blazing in the center, re-
flecting in the few cans of pewter
hung against the wall; heavy stools
of the rudest workmanship, formed
from the mountain ash, and table
whose legs OF unequal length were
propped by a morsel of peat, were
fifty years since, the principal OBJ
jects. Add to these pair of superb
antlers of the red deer, amenting
the walls, and rusty fire. lock and
you have the scene in which our story
opens.
Before the rude table described
sat two highlanders = both noble
specimens of their countrymen,
though widely different. One tall
and well made, with curls of chest
nut curling above forehead which
Chantry might copy, his fine fe atures
Lit up with the enthusiasm of his
hills, wore the Stewart tartan. A
small richly mounted dagger and
pair of pistols hung at his belt, and
in his bonnet gray eagles feather
denoted him the son of Highland
chieftain.
His companion varied in form and
expression. An eye, dark and de-
fiant as the mountain eagle, flashed
from bold and intelligent rather
than a handsome countenance; his
swarthy features were surmounted
by locks like the raven, and his fig
ure, though denoting great strength,
was yet formed with that lightness
and elegance which mountain life
alone can give. In his cap he wore
tuft of heather bloom, and the long
plaid, which crossing his breast and
knetted on the shoulder, was of
black and red alone-the cheek of
the Campbell's. He seemed some
years older than the other, and of
somewhat lower rank, though not at
all inferior in, spirit or bearing
81 tell We, Allan said the elder
Highlander, 'we'll no see the auld
times till the auld rule comes home.
Her ain sell will rally the clan, and
pour down on the lowland churls like
the avalanche from Ben Nevis"
"Hist, Ranald," said the other, 81
tell ye mon, new is not the time
The dragons from Carlisle would
be down upon us ere we could make
head. Beside there are other rea
sons which urge prudence"
"PrudenceP' retorted the other,
eye speak like the cauld- -bloeded
Seutherner, not like bonny Stew
art; pluck up mair heart, mon; it's
but late you've turned cowardp'
"And you," said the other, his fine
festures flashing with indignation,
"speak like fool" he added, sar-
castically, ''like a low born Highland
Cateranr'
'Draw!'' said the other rising, :'a
Campbell never brooked an insult"
"Nor Stewart insolence," replied
the tall Highlander.
"Shentlemen, shentlemen," cried |
the hostess, running between the
combatants, "ye'll no spill blude in
woman 8 house--help!" she scream
ed, as the dirks flashed high over her
head; moment more and the Stew
art fell.
"Ranald, lad, forgive me as freely
as do you," he murmured as the
dark Highlander regardless of their
anger, kneeled beside him.
my Allan, my noblesbrother, look
up, look up once mair. Have slain
ye?" he continued, his eyes fixed up
on the pale features of his friend
"Och hone, och hone! where will I
go and die, my generous Allan2"
He was aroused by the voice of
the hostess. e
"Fly, fly" she said, San save yer
sell or the clan gathers"
''Let them come, let them kill me-
said Campbell; "what is life to a.
Ere he could finish the sentence
approaching footsteps were heard,
and the old woman dragged him from
the spot
Without knowing whittier his steps
led him, the wanderer pursued his
fight. The voice ef his pursuers
was heard at the head of the glen
into which he had dived, when a
lsng, low building of stone seemed
to invite him to its shelter. Without
pausing to ask admittance, he entered
q large and spacious hall, hung with
the spoils of the chase. A venera-
BILE man advanced to meet him,
whose half. lowland costume bespoke
q man of rank.
"What make you here young
manf' said the gentIer, sand why
enter thus rudely the dwelling of
anotherP"
"My life is seught-justly sought;
your dwelling offered its protection.
But speak the word and I die here"
The protection Of StesOart was
never sought in vain, young Stran-
ger!' :
At that name Randalrs dark brow
flashed with agony.
"Slay me then, my lord, he cried,
"and avenge the death of your son."
2 The old man reeled as if thun-
derboit had struck him; and for
moment he regarded the Highlander
with flashing eye and quiyering lip;
then, as IL mastering himself. he !