The Narrative of Gordon Sellar Who Emigrated to Canada in 1825 | Page 4

the
sweetest bite I ever got. It was not nearly dark when I climbed a dyke
to get into a sheltered nook and fell asleep. Something soft and warm
licking my face woke me. It was a dog and it was broad day. What are
you doing here, laddie? said the dog's master who was a young fellow,
perhaps six or seven years older than myself. His staff and the collie
showed me he was a shepherd. I told him who I was and where I was
trying to go. Collie again smelt at me and wagged his tail as if telling
his master I was all right. I went with the lad who said his name was

Archie. He led to where his sheep were and we sat down in the
sunshine, for it was another warm day. We talked and we were not ten
minutes together when we liked each other. He unwrapped from a cloth
some bannocks and something like dried meat, which he said was
braxie.
It was his noon-bite, but he told me to eat it for he said, we go back to
the shelter to-day, and by we he meant collie. He had been lonesome
and was glad of company and we chattered on by the hour. At noon,
leaving collie in charge of the sheep, we went to the hut where he
stayed and had something to eat. He said his father was shepherd to a
big farmer, who had sent him with two score of shearling ewes to get
highland pasture. We talked about everything we knew and tried to
make each other laugh. He told me about Wallace, and we gripped
hands on saying we would fight for Scotland like him, and I told him
about Glasgow, where he had not been. A boy came with a little basket
and a message. The message was from his father, that he was to bring
the sheep back early on Monday, and the basket was from his mother
with food and a clean shirt for the Sabbath. We slept on a sheepskin
and wakened to hear the patter of rain. After seeing his sheep and
counting them, Archie said we must keep the Sabbath, and when we
had settled in a dry corner of the hillside he heard me my questions. I
could not go further than Who is the Redeemer of God's elect? but he
could go to the end. Then I repeated the three paraphrases my mother
had taught me, but Archie had nearly all of them and several psalms. A
shepherd would be tired if he did not learn by heart, he said; some knit
but I like reading best. Then he took my mother's bible and read about
David and Goliath. That over he started to sing. Oh we had a fine time,
and when a shower came Archie spread his plaid like a tent over the
bushes and we sat under it. He told me what he meant to do when he
was a man. He was going to Canada and get a farm, and send for the
whole family. As we snuggled in for the night, he told me he would not
forget me and he was glad collie had nosed me out in the bushes. If I
found in the morning he was gone, I was to take what he left me to eat.
Sure enough I slept in; he was gone with the sheep. I said a prayer for
him and took the road.
It was shower and shine all day. I footed on my way as fast as I could,
for the cut was still tender. Towards night I neared a little village and

saw an old man sitting on the doorstep reading. I asked him if I was on
the right road to Dundonald. He replied I was, but it was too far away
to reach before dark, and he put a few questions to me. Asking me to sit
beside him we had a talk. Did you ever see that book? holding out the
one he was reading. 'It is A Cloud of Witnesses, and gives the story of
the days of persecution. I wish every man in Scotland knew what it
contains, for there would be more of the right stuff among us. I was just
reading, for the hundredth time, I suppose, the trial of Marion Harvie,
and how he who was afterwards James King of England consented to
send her, a poor frail woman, to the gallows'. From the Covenanters he
passed to politics. He was a weaver and did not like the government,
telling me, seeing where I came from, I must grow up to be a Glasgow
radical. Seeing I was homeless, he said he would fend me for