ROB ROY'S CAVE.
The Red MacGregor knew well that the destruction of Inversnaid and
the dispersion of its garrison would render him popular even with his
enemies; for that fort had been built to overawe the Buchanans, the
Colquhouns of Luss, and the Stewarts of Ardvoirlich, as well as the
MacGregors; yet none but the latter had the daring to attempt its
capture.
It was always garrisoned by a strong party from the castle of
Dumbarton, relieved at regular intervals.
Full of thought and of the bold deed he had in contemplation,
MacGregor travelled alone by the northern base of Benvenue, from
whence, across the waters of Loch Katrine, he could see the lights
glittering in the windows of the thatched farmhouse, where his family
resided, at Portnellan, near where the western end of that lovely
sheet of water flows into Glengyle, and with a prayer on his lips for
their protection, and a sigh of hope for the future, he drew tighter
his girdle, secured his belted plaid upon his breast by his brooch,
and crossed the rugged mountain slope with long strides unerringly in
the dark, for the night was moonless, and after a journey of ten or
twelve miles, he reached his old lurking-place, the cavern, on the
banks of Loch Lomond.
From this place he could overlook the lands that were once his own,
and where whilom he had been able to count the grey smoke of a
hundred cottages rising in the clear air of an autumn evening, and
knew that in these humble abodes all loved him with a love that went
beyond the grave; but the times were changed, and with a sigh of
bitterness he entered the cavern.
He looked carefully to the flints and priming of his pistols, and
casting himself on a bed of dry soft heather, prepared for him in a
hollow of the rocks by the careful hands of Oina, he placed his drawn
sword beside him, and addressed himself to sleep, as he expected a
visit from her in the morning when she could leave the fort, where
she had been latterly engaged as the servant of an officer's wife.
Hour after hour passed, and MacGregor heard no sound but the night
wind as it swept the bleak mountain side, and tossed the wild whins
and brakens that fringed the mouth of his dark hiding-place.
Sleep was stealing gradually over him when some strange dark objects
appeared at the cavern mouth. Starting, he snatched up his sword and
pistols; but paused, for the figures had short horns, floating
beards, and red glaring eyes that peered in at him from behind the
ledges of rock.
On the first alarm he thought that soldiers had tracked him hither;
then the diablerie of Paul's recent proceedings, and his strange
narrative of the night he had passed in the den of the Urisks,
flashed upon Rob's memory, and made his flesh creep; for now, head
after head, with horns and beard and red glancing eyes, came along
the lower edge of the cavern floor, appearing darkly and indistinctly
against the dim light without.
MacGregor levelled a pistol and fired; then there was a rush of many
feet down the slope, and on springing to the cavern mouth, he found
that he had been scared by a herd of poor mountain goats, which he
saw now leaping from rock to rock in terror and dismay.
Then Rob laughed aloud at the excitement or overstrained fancy which
had caused such unusual emotions of alarm; and he thought of the good
King Robert I., who had been similarly startled in the same place.
For we are told, that after his defeat by the rebellious Western
Highlanders at Dalree in Strathfillan, he fled down the glen, crossed
the Falloch, and alone and unattended reached Loch Lomond side, and
at Inversnaid took shelter in this same cavern. There he slept in
his armour on the bare rocks, with his sword drawn by his side--the
sword that was never to be sheathed till Scotland were freed alike
from Western rebels and English invaders.
In the mirk midnight, the war-worn king awoke, and was at first
astonished, and then amused, to find the cave full of wild mountain
goats, whose lair it was; and tradition adds, that Bruce found
himself so comfortable among them, that when peace was proclaimed and
the Parliament met, he passed "a law whereby all goats should be
grass mail (or rent) free."
In that cave King Robert passed the night, and in the morning there
came to him Sir Maurice of Buchanan, who conducted him to Malcolm
Earl of Lennox.
On the same rock where, perhaps, the Bruce's head was pillowed, Rob
Roy dropped into a profound sleep, and the morning sun was shining
brightly on the woods of silver birch and sombre pine, and on the
green isles of Loch Lomond, when he awoke to find Oina seated near
him, with a little basket by her side, and a red plaid drawn over her
head, patiently watching him, and waiting the moment when he would be
stirring. In one hand she had a hunting-bottle of usquebaugh, and in
the other a little quaich formed of juniper and birch staves
alternately, smoothly polished, and hooped with silver.
The little girl, with the thick brown tresses described in the first
chapter of our story, was now a tall matron, with her dark hair
gathered under a curchie. Her brow was thoughtful and severe, for
many a time since the day on which her boy companion, Colin Bane, had
been slain by Duncan nan Creagh, had she looked death in the face
amid flashing swords and flaming rafters; and she was now, as stated,
the wife of Alaster Roy MacGregor.
"You have come at last, Oina," said Rob Roy.
"Say not that as a taunt," said she, "for I could not leave the fort
of Inversnaid before the gates were opened at daybreak."
"I did not say it tauntingly, Oina," replied Rob, patting her
shoulder; "but what of my poor boy Ronald?"
"He is still in a cell, where I cannot have speech with him."
"A cell! How his free Highland soul must abhor such confinement!
Patience yet awhile, my boy, for the blades are on the grindstone
that ere long shall free you. But do they keep surer watch than
usual at Inversnaid?"
"I cannot say; but more of the red soldiers arrived yesterday."
"More?" repeated Rob, starting.
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Forty at least; they came by a boat up Loch Lomond from Dumbarton."
"How many are in the fort now?"
"I have reckoned four companies of eighty men each."
"Three hundred and twenty muskets."
"Nay, for twenty of these have halberts."
"True--the sergeants."
"Then there are six _tairneanach_" (thunder-mouths).
"At the gate. I have marked them from the hill; they are six-pound
cannon, I believe; but let us once pass the barrier and they will be
useless. I have but five hundred claymores, yet I will make an
attempt, if it should cost me my life and the lives of all who adhere
to me," said Rob Roy, firmly.
"At what hour will you advance?"
"To-morrow night at twelve."
"Good. I shall endeavour to dispose of the sentinel at the gate."
"With the dirk? Nay, I like not that, Oina," said Rob Roy.
"Nay, with _this_," she replied, laughing, as she took the
hunting-bottle of whisky from the basket in which she had brought a
breakfast for MacGregor.
"To-morrow night we muster at the burn foot, near Inversnaid. At
twelve the attack will commence--twelve remember, Oina; and if the
sentinel be not silenced by you, we must e'en trust to the
sledge-hammer first and the steel blade after."
When Oina left him to return to the fort the hours passed slowly and
anxiously with MacGregor, who in his hiding-place could hear the
drums when they were beaten at daybreak, sunset, and tattoo, in the
barrack at Inversnaid; and he prayed that the time might come when
that sound, which was rendered, by association, so hateful to a
Highland ear, would be hushed among his native hills for ever.
Whether victorious or not, Rob Roy could scarcely hope that an act so
daring as an attack on a royal garrison would pass unpunished; but he
heeded not. By that deed he resolved to make a terrible protest
against the usurpation of his land, and the erection of such a
building in the country of the MacGregors.