"Ye little ken what ye speak of," he said."The Sabbath is for them that have the chance of salvation, and it has been decreed that salvation is for Adam's race and no for the beasts that perish."The whaup gave a whistle of scorn."I have heard all that long ago.In my great grandmother's time, which 'ill be a thousand years and mair syne, there came a people from the south with bright brass things on their heads and breasts and terrible swords at their thighs.And with them were some lang gowned men who kenned the stars and would come out o' nights to talk to the deer and the corbies in their ain tongue.And one, I mind, foregathered with my great-grandmother and told her that the souls o' men flitted in the end to braw meadows where the gods bide or gaed down to the black pit which they ca' Hell.But the souls o' birds, he said, die wi' their bodies, and that's the end o' them.Likewise in my mother's time, when there was a great abbey down yonder by the Threepdaidle Burn which they called the House of Kilmaclavers, the auld monks would walk out in the evening to pick herbs for their distillings, and some were wise and kenned the ways of bird and beast.They would crack often o'
nights with my ain family, and tell them that Christ had saved the souls o' men, but that birds and beasts were perishable as the dew o' heaven.And now ye have a black-gowned man in Threepdaidle who threeps on the same overcome.Ye may a' ken something o' your ain kitchen midden, but certes! ye ken little o' the warld beyond it."Now this angered the man, and he rebuked the bird."These are great mysteries," he said, "which are no to be mentioned in the ears of an unsanctified creature.What can a thing like you wi'
a lang neb and twae legs like stilts ken about the next warld?""Weel, weel," said the whaup, "we'll let the matter be.
Everything to its ain trade, and I will not dispute with ye on Metapheesics.But if ye ken something about the next warld, ye ken terrible little about this."Now this angered the man still more, for he was a shepherd reputed to have great skill in sheep and esteemed the nicest judge of hogg and wether in all the countryside."What ken ye about that?" he asked."Ye may gang east to Yetholm and west to Kells, and no find a better herd.""If sheep were a'," said the bird, "ye micht be right; but what o' the wide warld and the folk in it? Ye are Simon Etterick o'
the Lowe Moss.Do ye ken aucht o' your forebears?""My father was a God-fearing man at the Kennelhead and my grandfather and great grandfather afore him.One o' our name, folk say, was shot at a dykeback by the Black Westeraw.""If that's a'" said the bird, "ye ken little.Have ye never heard o' the little man, the fourth back from yoursel', who killed the Miller o' Bewcastle at the Lammas Fair? That was in my ain time, and from my mother I have heard o' the Covenanter who got a bullet in his wame hunkering behind the divot-dyke and praying to his Maker.There were others of your name rode in the Hermitage forays and turned Naworth and Warkworth and Castle Gay.
I have heard o' an Etterick.Sim o' the Redcleuch, who cut the throat o' Jock Johnstone in his ain house by the Annan side.And my grandmother had tales o' auld Ettericks who rade wi' Douglas and the Bruce and the ancient Kings o' Scots; and she used to tell o' others in her mother's time, terrible shockheaded men hunting the deer and rinnin' on the high moors, and bidin' in the broken stane biggings on the hill-taps.
The shepherd stared, and he, too, saw the picture.He smelled the air of battle and lust and foray, and forgot the Sabbath.
"And you yoursel'," said the bird, "are sair fallen off from the auld stock.Now ye sit and spell in books, and talk about what ye little understand, when your fathers were roaming the warld.But little cause have I to speak, for I too am a downcome.My bill is two inches shorter than my mother's, and my grandmother was taller on her feet.The warld is getting weaklier things to dwell in it, even since I mind mysel'.""Ye have the gift o' speech; bird," said the man, "and I would hear mair." You will perceive that he had no mind of the Sabbath day or the fifteenth head of the forenoon's discourse.
"What things have I to tell ye when ye dinna ken the very horn-book o' knowledge? Besides, I am no clatter-vengeance to tell stories in the middle o' the muir, where there are ears open high and low.There's others than me wi mair experience and a better skill at the telling.Our clan was well acquaint wi' the reivers and lifters o' the muirs, and could crack fine o' wars and the takin of cattle.But the blue hawk that lives in the corrie o' the Dreichil can speak o' kelpies and the dwarfs that bide in the hill.The heron, the lang solemn fellow, kens o' the greenwood fairies and the wood elfins, and the wild geese that squatter on the tap o' the Muneraw will croak to ye of the merry maidens and the girls o' the pool.The wren--him that hops in the grass below the birks--has the story of the Lost Ladies of the Land, which is ower auld and sad for any but the wisest to hear; and there is a wee bird bides in the heather-hill--lintie men call him--who sings the Lay of the West Wind, and the Glee of the Rowan Berries.But what am I talking of? What are these things to you, if ye have not first heard True Thomas's Rime, which is the beginning and end o' all things?
"I have heard no rime" said the man, "save the sacred psalms o'
God's Kirk."
"Bonny rimes" said the bird."Once I flew by the hinder end o'
the Kirk and I keekit in.A wheen auld wives wi' mutches and a wheen solemn men wi' hoasts! Be sure the Rime is no like yon.""Can ye sing it, bird?" said the man, "for I am keen to hear it.""Me sing!" cried the bird, "me that has a voice like a craw!
Na, na, I canna sing it, but maybe I can tak ye where ye may hear it.When I was young an auld bogblitter did the same to me, and sae began my education.But are ye willing and brawly willing?
--for if ye get but a sough of it ye will never mair have an ear for other music.""I am willing and brawly willing," said the man.
