SCOTTISH GAMES AND SCOTTISH TUNES
It was a gala scene that met their eyes as they drove into the village.
There, around a game field lighted by myriads of small electric bulbs,
the whole population of the town was collected. Everyone was in holiday
mood. All eyes were riveted on a brass band of kilted Highlanders
marching up and down the field when Nan and her friends made their
appearance. At a signal, the band struck up a happy welcoming tune as
the girls were ushered directly to a group of seats opposite the very
center of the field. Everyone stood up and clapped.
"Seems almost like the good old high school days at Tillbury," Bess
whispered to Nan, "I half expect a cheerleader to appear."
"Sh!" The warning was Nan's, for after the girls acknowledged the
greeting by bowing and smiling and had seated themselves, the contests
began.
First, there was the bagpipe competition. At opposite ends of the field
on wooden platforms, raised so that everyone could see, the Angus
MacPhersons, Donald MacDonalds, and James Mackenzies of the village
marched very slowly around and around playing jigs and reels and all
sorts of Scottish Highland tunes.
How weird the music seemed to the ears of the American girl! It wasn't
gay enough for Bess who liked only the jazz music that she could hear at
home. She grew restless. But Nan and Laura, always interested in strange
new things, sat on the very edge of their seats, anxious not to miss any
detail of what was happening.
"How I'd like to awaken Mrs. Cupp some drizzly dark morning with bagpipe
music!" Laura's eyes danced merrily at the thought.
"You'd be expelled as sure as anything," Nan whispered back. "Will you
look at that?" She almost fell off the edge of the seat in her
excitement.
The Highlanders had retired for a while and, racing across the field
now, were teams of two men each, one pushing a wheelbarrow and the other
in it. When they missed the goal, as they generally did, a bucket,
suspended from a beam above the goal line, tipped and drenched the two
with water, to the great amusement of the crowd.
"Oh, what fun!" Laura exclaimed. "Look! There goes another bucket over.
He got it right in the face!"
"And look at the next one," Bess was interested too, now. "Is he going
to get by safely? No, look, Nan!" She grabbed her friend's arm. "The
wheelbarrow and everything is going to go over now! Are they hurt?" She
closed her eyes and looked the other way.
"Oh, Bess, they're not hurt, they're just half drowned," Nan was
laughing heartily. This was fun to watch, better than any circus. The
crowd cheered and laughed and clapped and laughed again. "Tilting the
Bucket" was one of the favorite Scottish games.
Next came the highpoint of the evening--the dancing of the Highland
Fling and the Sword Dance. Such dancing! The tall, straight, skirted
Highlanders with their white jackets and green kilts went from movement
to movement, swinging rhythmically and gracefully, leaving the girls
breathless at the end. The crowd applauded, long and loudly.
The dancers came back and did the Highland Fling over again. The crowd
wouldn't let them leave. They cheered and whistled. The dancers repeated
again and again, each time doing it better than the last.
The group of three that finally won the evening's prize, a five pound
note, climaxed their conquest of the crowd by donating the money to the
village coronation fund! The winner of the bagpipe contest followed suit
and then the Broad Jump champion, the winner of the Mile Run and the
Hurdle Races joined in. Before the crowd really realized what it was
doing, everyone was throwing coins toward the center of the field. The
band started to play "God Save the King!" Everyone stood up. They sang,
first the English National Anthem and then Scotch song after Scotch
song.
Finally the lights blinked. The band played "God Save the King" again
and everyone moved slowly away. It had been a grand evening with some
fifty pounds added to the village fund for a stupendous celebration on
the day of the crowning of the King and Queen.
Nan and her friends shook hands with the committee that had planned the
evening's entertainment. Villager after villager stopped to talk with
this young descendant of Hugh Blake who had come from far away America
to see the old estate. They were simple folk, straightforward and honest
in their appraisal of the brown-eyed American, but they found nothing to
criticize. Somehow, Nan was able to make them feel that she was one of
them, and as they went away gossiping about Old Hugh and young Nan, they
all agreed that she was a "bonnie, bonnie lassie."
The committee, escorting the visitors back to the carriage, urged them
to stay in Emberon for the coronation celebration.
"Aye, and it will be a gr-r-r-and day here," William MacDonald, the
chairman, urged. "In London, noo, I'll gr-r-r-ant ye, it will be
ver-r-ry guid too, but mind ye, ye cudna find no better celebration than
the one here at Emberon. It's ver-r-ry proud we are of his Royal
Highness and her Ladyship. They pass here ver-r-ry often on their way to
the North. Aye, and even once they stopped to watch the games. That was
the time young MacDonald, my nephew, ye ken," he explained proudly,
"tossed the caber so high and over so cleanly, that the guid king
himself, mind ye, shook him by the hand. Aye, and that was a gr-r-r-and
day." The old man stopped while he thought it all over again,
remembering how he had stood right next to his nephew when the king
congratulated him.
"Will ye stay?" He repeated his invitation, as with an effort, he shook
the memory of that bygone day from his mind and came back to the present
and the young Blake lass.
"Noo, and she cudna," old James Blake stepped into the conversation.
"Ither, bigger things," he lapsed into the dialect of the villagers
about him, "are hers in London town."
Old MacDonald looked up. A flash of understanding passed between the
two.
"Ye're right, Jamie," he said, "and she's a right bonnie lass to carry
on."
With this, Nan and her friends were hurried along by James Blake toward
the carriage, and in the moonlight, they drove up the steep hill toward
the gray castle on the summit.