He pointed out across the wide sea-loch, and Max could see that two sharp-winged birds were skimming along in the distance, and returning, as if in a great state of excitement about their nest.

"There they are, Max, the pair of them," said Kenneth.

"Isn't it cruel to take their nest, supposing you can get it?" said Max.

"Oh, very," replied Kenneth coolly. "We ought to leave it alone, and let the young hawks grow up and harry and strike down the grouse and eat the young clucks. Why, do you know how many birds those two murder a day?"

"No," said Max.

"Neither do I; but they do a lot of mischief, and the sooner their nest is taken the better."

"I did not think of that. They're such beautiful birds upon the wing, that it seems a pity to destroy them."

"Yes; but only let me get a chance. Why, if we were to let these things get ahead along with the eagles, they'd murder half the young birds and lambs in the country. Now, Scood, how's it to be?"

Scoodrach grunted, and kicked away the earth in different places, till he found where there was a good crevice between two pieces of rock, where, making use of the anchor as if it were a pickaxe, he dug out the earth till he could force down one fluke close between the stones till the stock was level, when he gave it a final stamp, and rose up.

"There," he said, "twenty poys could not pull that oot."

"Yes, that will bear, unless it jumps out," said Kenneth. "Look here, Max, will you go down first?"

"I? Oh no!"

"All right, you shall go down after. Now, mind, you've got to keep your foot on the grapnel here, so as it can't come out."

"But you surely will not go down, and trust to that?"

"Trust to that, and to you, my lad. So, mind, if you let the anchor fluke come out, down I shall go to the bottom; and I don't envy you the job of going to tell The Mackhai."

"Oh, Kenneth!"

"Fact I'm the only boy he has got."

"It is horrible!" panted Max, as Scoodrach advanced to the edge of the cliff and threw over the coil of rope, standing watching it as it uncurled rapidly ring by ring, till it hung taut.

Max saw it all in imagination, and the fine dew stood out upon his face as he pressed his foot with all his might down upon the anchor, and listened to and gazed at what followed.

"There she is," said Scoodrach. "Will ye gang first, Maister Ken, or shall I?"

"Oh, I'll go first, Scood. But how about the young birds? what shall I put them in?"

Scood hesitated for a moment, and then took off his Tam o' Shanter.

"Ye'll joost putt 'em in ta ponnet," he said.

"No, no, that won't do; they'd fall out."

Scood scratched his curly red head.

"Aweel!" he exclaimed; "she's cot a wee bit of string. Ye'll joost tak'

it in yer sporran, and my twa stockings. Putt ane in each, and then tie 'em oop at the tops and hang 'em roond yer neck. Do ye see?"

"That will do capitally, Scood!" cried Kenneth, seizing the socks which the lad had stripped from his feet and thrusting them in his pocket.

"Good-bye, Max."

"No, no! don't say good-bye! Don't go down!" panted Max, in spite of himself; and then he stood pressing wildly down on the anchor, for Kenneth had glided over the side, and, after hanging from the verge for a moment, he gave his head a nod, laughed at Max, and disappeared, with Scoodrach leaning down with his hands upon his knees watching him.

For a few moments Max closed his eyes, while the rope jarred and jerked, and the iron thrilled beneath his foot. Then all at once the jarring ceased, and the rope hung loose.

Max opened his eyes in horror, the idea being strong upon him that Kenneth had fallen. But his voice rose out of the depths beyond the edge.

"Ask him if he'd like to come down and see."

"No, no!" cried Max huskily; "I'd rather not."

"She says she shall not come," cried Scoodrach.

"Then let him stay where he is," came from below. "Come and have a look, Scood."

To Max's horror, the gillie went down on his knees, seized the rope, and pa.s.sed over the edge; Max watching his grinning countenance as he lowered himself down, with first his chest and then his face disappearing, lastly the worsted tuft on the top of his Tam o' Shanter; and there was nothing to see but the pulsating rope, and the sea, sky, and blue mountains on the other side of the loch.

And now a strong desire to take his foot from the anchor, and creep to the edge of the cliff and look down, came over Max. He wanted to see Scoodrach descend to the shelf of rock and join Kenneth. He wanted, too, to look upon the falcon's nest; for, after seeing these two descend so bravely, by a sudden reaction he felt ashamed of his own nervousness, and was ready to show them that he was not so cowardly after all.

All this was momentary; and there the rope kept on vibrating and the anchor jarred as Scoodrach descended; while, as Max pressed the stock down, and it rose and fell like a spring beneath his foot, he kept his eyes fixed upon the edge of the cliff, where the rope seemed to end, when there was a dull tw.a.n.g, as if the string of some gigantic instrument had snapped, and, to his horror, the rope rose from the top of the cliff as if alive, and struck and coiled round him with a stinging pain.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A BRAVE ATTEMPT.

For a few moments Max Blande stood as if petrified, and those moments were like an hour, while the thought flashed through him of what must be going on below, where he seemed to see Kenneth gazing down in horror at the shapeless form of Scoodrach lying unrecognisable on the rocks below.

All feeling of dread on his own behalf was gone now; and, as soon as the first shock was over, he tore himself free of the snake-like rope, and stepped to the edge of the cliff, to gaze down with dilated eyes.

"Well, you've done it now!" saluted him as he strained over the edge to look below, where Kenneth, instead of looking down, was looking up, while Scood was lying on the shelf of rock, rubbing himself with a hand that was bleeding freely.

"Is--is he killed?" faltered Max, whose lips formed the question he had been about to ask before he saw the gillie lying there.

"Do you hear, Scood? Are you killed?" said Kenneth coolly.

"Is she kilt? Na, she isna kilt," cried Scoodrach, with a savage snarl, which was answered by a furious fit of barking from the terrier, as he too looked down. "Hech, but this is the hartest stane! She's gien hersel' a dreadful ding."

"Then you are both safe?" cried Max joyfully.

"Oh yes, quite safe, Max. Locked up tight. Did you cut the rope?"

"Cut the rope? No, I didn't touch it. Why did it break?"