The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-02-27

CHASTITY memory. The trampling of
Cumberland's fell cavalry still rang in
butcherlng the wounded and the I'M
armed hill folks who had come to see
the battle. Again 1 led my 500 clay
mores In the charge, while the High
land slogan rang out and mingled with
the ptbroch's wild wall. BY day my
mind dwelt despairingly on that scene
Of carnage, and In the night [ started
from my sleep In the heather to see
my brave clansmen throw themselves
between the red death and their chief
tain, The 18th of April, 1855, had
been q woeful day for the north.
When the big, red moon came UP
and squatted like a cheese on the top
Of the opposite hill, l thought time
to be moving; for I was keen to be
gone to my own people, where I might
lie In safety till my wound healed,
tho every sassenach redcoat IN the
island were on hunt for Airlie.
I followed the shoulder Of the hill
cautiously and slowly, both to avoid
stumbling into any sentrtes who might
be stationed on the heights above, and
to favor my wounded ankle, which
found the hillside less broken with
rocks.
For full mile terror dogged my
every step Then the pain In my leg
grew instant, and I threw myself down
in the soft heather.
Suddenly In the stiffness I heard a
sound that brought me to my feet 1t
was the sobbing Of a lost Wean.
Borne by the wind 1t came to me
again and I was sure Of it. | pushed
thru the brush in the direction OF the
cry. Presently came to cliff which
blocked my way, sheer and perpendlc-
ular for seventy feet below me. l
stood undecided, waiting for the cry to
guide me to the left or to the right.
From the side of the cliff beneath
my very feet a soft sob arose. Lying
on my face peered over the rock to
seee child standing on narrow, pro-
iecting ledge some twenty feet below
me. She was clinging to the ferns
which grew from the face Of the cliff.
1t appeared she had been there some
time, for she had almost ceased to
cry. When she saw me she asked
T piesse take ~ her nome. A From Which
I suppose the little lass had been
praying to God to rescue her.
There was but one way to her and
that was sheer over the face Of the
cliff. It was q perilous descent, hav-
ing the appearance of a forlorn hope,
but it was that or nothing. Luckily
the broom grew rank from a cleft in
the rock, and at pinch 1t might serve
I worked my way over the edge, my
feet dangling per1lousy IN space
cred myself foot by foot. Twice the
heather gave to my hand, and almost
went down headlong; But it takes
steep hill to stop Highlander. and al
last | stood on the ledge beside her
a ledge so narrow that when crushed
my toes into the rock my heels still
hung over nothing.
1T appeared she had been lost in tbs
hills and, wandering about, had fallel
over the edge Of the cliff. BY grea
II good fortune she had landed on pile
Of furze and was uninjured save fol
some bruises. How she had stuck OF
the ledge at all was marvel
wrapped her In my plaid, windins
It under one shoulder and over tn
other, and bidding her cling tightly t
nv neck. She was as winsome look
ing BARN as had seen for many
day Her hair was light brown AM
her eyes a deep blue. She reminded
me somehow of the pictures Of angel
had seen in the French churches.
How I ever climbed that heigh
safely do not know IT'S an adven
ture T would not take in the daytime