The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 30, 1902, Page 13

Copyright, 1902, by Robert Barr, HEN kings frown, courtiers tremble,” said Sir Donald Binclair to the Archbishop of St. Andrew, “but in Stirling the case seems re- The courtiers frown and the “Indeed,” well be. replied the prelate, “that may When a man invites a company with him, and then makes the Qiscovery that his larder is empty, there is cause for anxiety, be he king or churl In truth my wame's beginning to think my throat's cut” The young man to whom they referred, James, the fifth of that name, had been pacing the floor a little distance from the large group of hungry men who were swalting their dinner with some impa- tience. Now and then the King paused perambulation, and gazed out of a v overlooking the courtyard, again his disturbed march when his y was completed ere was a clatter of horses’ rd. The King turned , glanced a mo- below, then gave mation of annoy clenching angrily. the guards at the tsman here at once, e back with a pike may loitering in the court- ke statues with made no move; on a bench out- and ran clatter- y returned pres- huntsman, whom ly into the room to the woodman's ected to remove his bon- esence, and so far for- to turn his head when he q brium, roundly curs- had made a projectile of ander!” cried the King, ice ringing down again from fters of the great hall. “Are er in my forests of the y plenty. your Majesty,” an feliow with a mixture of disrespect, which in truth ge the manners of all pres- are deer in the King's for- t a lack of venison in the r n you by that, you scoun- exclaimed the King, a flush over- face, ruddy as his beard. marksmen lost their skill and arrow, that you retura te to the castle?” marksmen are expert as ever, ajesty, and their arrows fly as un- prringly to their billet, but in these rude y, the sting of an ar- may not be followed by the whetting »f & butcher's knife. The deer we had d found it impossible to win by Arnprior. 'Your Majesty has hit the gold there. Buchanan not only needed it but took it you inform him that your cargo tended for the larder of the King him that in so many words, your Majesty; and he replied that if James was King in Stirling, John was King in Kippen, and having the shorter name, he took the shorter method of siup- plying bis kitchen. “Made you any effort to defend your pear?” Truth to say, your Majesty, that were & useless trial. The huntsman who will face the deer thinks no shame to turn his back on the wild boar, and Buchanan, when he demanded your Majesty's veni- son, was well supported by a number of s with drawn swords in their bad made. up for a lack of with a plenftude of strong ce was futile, and we were the bannock that was hand- even though the ashes were R d of the Hills, a daft Hel- who knew no better, drew an ear and would have pinned to his own gate, resulting in ruction of us all, bad I not, with smote the weapon from his J= wy hand. Then the mad youth made such to do that we had just to tle him up and bring him to Stirling*on the horse’s back like a sack of fodder.’ “Your caution does credit to your Low- land breeding, master huntsman, and the conduct of Ronald cannot be too severely condemned. Bring him here, I beg of you, that he may receive the King's censure.” Ronald was brought in, a wild, un- kempt figure, his scanty dress disordered, bearing witness to the struggle in which “YuE Kivee anvp Hif FoLLowERS ENTERED THE TINING HALL WolserveD, he had but lately been engaged. His el- bows were pinioned behind him, and his shock of red hair stood out like a heather THE SUNDAY CA!L. broom. He scowled fiercely at the hunts- man, and that cautious Individual edged away from him, bound as he was, “By my beard! as the men of the heathen East swear,” said the King, “his bair somewhat matches by own in hue. Ronald, what is the first duty of a hunts- r.an?’ “He speaks only the Gaellc, your Ma- y,” explained the royal ranger. ‘You have the Gaelic, MacNeish,” con- tinued the King, addressing one of his train. “Expound to him, I beg of you, my question: ‘What Is the first duty of a buntsman?' BY ROBERT BARR MacNeish, stepping forward, put the question in Gaelic and received Ronald's reply. ‘‘He says, your Majesty, that & hunts- man’s first duty 18 to kill the game he is sent for.” “‘Quite right,” and the King nodded ap- proval. *“Ask him if he knows as well the second duty of a huntsman.” “He says, your Majesty,” translated MacNelsh, *that the second duty of = huntsman s to cut the throat of any cateran who presumes to interfere with the progreas of the provender from the forest lo his master’s kitchen.’ “Right again,” cried the King. smiting his thigh, “and an answer worthy of.all commendation. Tell him this, MacNeish, that hereafter he Is the chief huntsman to the castle of Stirling. We will place this cowardly hellion 1in the kitchen, where he will be safe from the hungry frenzy of a Buchanan, drunk or sober.” “But, your Majesty—"" protested the deposed ranger. ‘o the kitchen with him sternly commanded the King. “Strip off the woodlander’s jacket he has disgraced and tie around him the strings of a scullion’s apron, which will suit his middle bettsp than the beit of a sword.” Then the King, tashing forth his own weapon and step- ping aside, swung It aver the head of the Highlander, who stood like a statue in spite of the menace, and the sword came down with a deft accuracy which severed the binding cords without touching the persen of the prisoner, freeing him at 3 stroke. A murmur of admiration at the dexterity of the King went up from the assemblage, every member of which was himself an expert with the weapon. The freed Highlander raised his brawny ams above his head and gave startling vent to the war cry of his clan, “Loch Sloy! Loch Sloy!” unmindful of the presencs in vhich he stood. Then he knelt swiftly and brought his lips to the buckle of the King’s shoe. “Gratitude in a MacFarlane!” snesred MacNeish. ye,” sald the King. “and bravery, 100, for he never winked an eyelash when the sword hung above him: an admirable combination of qualities, whether in & MacFarlane or a MacNeish. And now, gentlemen,” continued his Majesty, “al- though the affair of the huntsman is set- tled, it brings us no nearer our vemisem. If the cook will not to the King, then must the King to the cook. Gentlemen, to your arms and your horses! They say a Scotsman fights well when he Is hun- gry: let us put the proverb to the tast. We ride and dine with his Majesty of Kippen.” A sponianeous cheer burst from every man in the great hall, to the accompani- ment of a rattle of swords. Most of those present were more anxious to follow the King to a contest than into a couneil chamber. . A few minutes later & clattering caval- cade rode forth from the Castle of Stir- ling, through the town and down the path of Ballengeich, a score of soldiers bring- ing up the tail of the procession; and in due time the company came to the trance of Arnprior Castle. There seem like to be opposition at the gate, but Donald, spurring his horse forward among the guard, scattered the members of it right and left, and, rising both voice and sword, shouted: The King! The King! the King of Scotland The defenders seeing themselves out- numbered, as the huntsmen had been in that locality a short time befors, gave up their axes to the invaders as meekly as the royal rangers had given up their ven! son. The King placed his own guard at the gate. Springing from his horse he en- tered the castle door and mounted the stone steps, sword in hand, his retinue close at his heels. The great hall to which they ascended was no monk’s chapel of silence. There was wafted to’ them, or rather blown down upon them like a flarce hurricane, the marttal strains of “Buchi an Forever,” played by pipers anything but scant of wind: yet even this tornade was ‘not sufficient to drown the roar of human voices, some singing, others ap- parently in the heat of altercation, and during the height of this deafening clamo: the King and his followers entéred the dining hall practically unobserved. On the long oaken table servitors were busily placing smoking viands soon to be consumed; others were filling the drinkiag horns, while some of the guests wers sn- gaged In emptying them, although the meal had not yet begun. Buchanan, his back toward the incomers, his brawnmy hands on the table, leaning forward, was shouting to the company, commanding his guests to seat themselves and fall to while the venison was hot. There seemed to be several loud-voiced disputes going n regarding precedence. The first inti- mation that the bellowing laird had of the intruders’ presence was the cold touch of steel on his bare neck. He sprang round as if a wasp had stung him, his right hand swinging instinctively to the hilt of his sword, but.the point of anothe was within an inch of his throat, and his band fell away from his weapon. “The fame of your itality has spread abroad, Buchanan,” spoke the clear voice of the King, “30 we have come to test its quality.” The pipers had stopped in their mareh and with the ceasing of the musia the wind from the bags escaped to the outer air with a long, walling groan. The tumult of discussion subsided and &l eyes turned toward the speaker, some of the guests hastlly drawing swords, but returning them again to the scabbards when they saw themselves confronted by the King. Buchanan steadied himself with his back against the table and in the sudden silence 1t seemed ere long he found bis tongue. At last he said: “Does the King comle as a guest with & drawn sword in his hand?” “As you get north of Stirling, Buch- anan,” réplied James with a smile, “it Is customary to bring the knife with you when you go out to dine. But I am quite in agreement with the Laird of Arnprir In thinking the sword an {ll ornament In a banqueting hall, therefors bestow your weapons on Sir Donald here and com- mand your clan now present to disarm.' With visible reluctance Buchanan di- vested himself of sword and dirk and his comrades, now stricken dumb, followed his example. The weapons wers thrown together In a corner of the hall, where some of the King's soldiers stood guasd over them. “In intercepting my venison, Buchap- n,” continued the King, with the utmest woliteness, “you weres actuated by one i two motives. Your intervemtion was dther an insult to the King or it was an Intimation that you desired to become his cook. In which light am I to view your action, Buchanan?” There was In the King’s voice a sinis- ter ring as he uttered this sentence that belled the smile upon his lips, and appre- hension deepened as all present awaited Buchanan's reply. At the word “cook™ he had straightened himseif, and a deeper flush than the wine had left there over- spread his countenance. Now he bowed with deference and said: t has ever been my ambition to see your Majesty grace with his presence my humble board.” “1 was sure of it,” cried James, with a hearty laugh, which brought relief to the anxious hearts of many nding before him. The King thrust his sword into 3 scabbard and, with a clangor of hilt on iron, those behind him followed his ex- ample, g “And'now,” eried James, “let the King'y men eat while the laird’s men wait upen them. And for you, John Buchanan, i is to-day my pleasure that you have the honor of being my cup-bearer.” Whether the honor thus thrust upon the Laird of Arnprior was as much to his Hking as an Invitation to sit down with his guest would have been s question- able, but he served his Majesty with goad grace, and the King was loud in his praise of the venison, aithough his comie plments fell sadly on the earse of the bungry men whe watched it disdppear so rapidly. At the end of the feast Jamgw rose with his flagon in his hand. “1 give you the King." he ecried. “the King of Kippen. When I left Stirilng [ had made up my mind that there could be but one King In a country, but glorig] Scotland shall have no such restriction, and I bestow upon Buchanan, whose ample cheer we have done justice to, the title of King of Kippen, so long as he does not fall Into the error of supposing that Kippen includes all of Scotland, in- stead of Scotland including Kippen. And so, Laird of Arnpgior, Kipg of Kipgen, we drink your good health, and when next my venison passes your door take only that portion of it which bears the same relation to the whole as the distriet of Kippen does to broad Scotari. The toast was drunk with cheers and when silence came the King of Kippen, casting a rueful glance along the empty board, sald: “T thank your Majesty for your goed wishes, but in truth the advice you give will be hard to follow, for I see I should have §tolen twice the juantity of venison 1 did, because, as I have not done s@, 1 and my men are like to go hungry. And thus Buchanan came into his title of King of Kippen, although he had to walt some time for his dinner on the dgy be acauired the distinction. Make way for