Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1881-05-10

to death but nowhere has the devotion
been forgotten of the brave boy, our Sec
ond piper of Duntroon.
With the surrounding country full OF re.
tanners ready to give the alarm. it would
have been folly to approach Duntrot n
from the land side, so Alexander Mac
Donald. following his fathers example.
determined to approach it by sea; though
at this time an assault from either side
might probably have been successful, for
it happened that only Drntroon himself
and few friends were living in the castle
garrison there was none-and so I'M
suspecting of any kind of evil were they,
that while the enemy's ships were en-
tering the bay dance was going on in
the hall overlooking it. Darkness fell,
ship after ship sailed up stealthily and an
above it still the dance went on. Were
other than they were that night?
After the failure of Craignish it is the
more important that this should succeed.
The order is given to land quietly and Sc
cure the gate; the men are beginning to
obey, when suddenly the stiffness is
broken by the sound OF pibroch, played
wild and shrill from on board one of the
ships. and as the first notes of it died away
in the darkness, the lights in the castle
windows are extinguished. The secret OF
the Athollmen is betrayed, but by whom ?
Allister, mad with passion shouts for the
traitor to be seized and brought before
him. That is not difficult, since the pipes
are still playing; but his amazement
almost overpowers his anger when he
recognises the player, a lad picked up by
chance in the north of Ireland. and pressed
into service because of his music.
why have you chosen to betray your
LEADER" he asks.
Il have chosen TO rescue my leader, ="
replies the boy.
Ibid not hire you to encourage nv
followers in battle; not to give warning
to the enemy?'
Have | not encouraged your follow
ers? But dare not betray my chief
"Am ! not your chief by wage and con-
tract?'
''Duntroon is my chiet by higher al
legiance- am his clansman, born be-
yond the hills yonder at Slochivullin."
Time permits no further parley. The
garrison may be about to fire on them.
Cut off his traitorous fingers, and hang
him to the masthead ~ is the savage or
der.
All, pity. Allster. have you forgotten
your fathers piper?
And the touching tradition closes by
telling Us how, when nothing but the
bleeding stumps of his fingers were left
him, the faithful clansman still PLAYED on,
the music growing fainter ard ever faint
nj. b, ,ha N. 1oI
only when the pipes were taken from him,
and with them his life.
The Athollmen pressed on to find the
castle gates unbarred, and no one waiting
to oppose their passage. In the dark hall &.
where half an hour before the dancing went
on merrily, an old woman. too old to care
for life, sits by herself, who tells them
that she, thanks to the boys pibroch, is
now the garrison of Duntroon.
These are the handed down words of
his last greeting to his chief:
IAN hail to thee. all health to thee all hail To thee
All hail to thee all health thee. all hail TO thee,
young Neil
They ON thee; they are at thee, be heedful, O
DuntroOn."
His or not, they are alive with the unself-
ish, reverent devotion of the Celtic heart.
which the thing we call civilization has
elected to crush out and destroy
The Celtic heart must worship some
thing; it worshipped you. Highland chiefs,
for many long century, till YOU cast it
forth from its home to wander hungry
and shclterless over the wide earth. The
remnant here and there remaining still
worships you. if you will give it one kind
look but the major part has CROPPED its
way to other lands. or into the great cities,
there to worship freedom and your own
mammon god. wealth not YOU
Fresh. cool evening draws on: not a
shadow is to he seen on all the walls now,
for the golden light comes flooding across
from behind the Jnra peaks, and battles
them in living fire. We hoist our little
white sail the wind has risen and will
carry us home gloriouslv, happy in the
breeze blowing through our hair. in the
water ripping across our keel. in red
clouds and Gaelic chorus happier vet in
the thought that the good in a mans life
outlasts the evil, and that for men who
seem to us neither very worthy nor very
good-some have seven dared to die. -
Good Words.