had; not the English
army, but some robbers from the other side of the Border. At that time
the people on the south side of Scotland and the north side of England
used to steal each other's cows time about. When a Scotch squire, or
"laird," like Randal's father, had been robbed by the neighbouring
English, he would wait his chance and drive away cattle from the English
side. This time most of Randal's mother's herds were seized, by a sudden
attack in the night, and were driven away through the Forest to England.
Two or three of Lady Ker's men were hurt by the English, but old Simon
Grieve took a prisoner. He did this in a curious way. He shot an arrow
after the robbers as they rode off, and the arrow pinned an Englishman's
leg to the saddle, and even into his horse. The horse was hurt and
frightened, and ran away right back to Fairnilee, where it was caught,
with the rider and all, for of course he could not dismount.

They treated him kindly at Fairnilee, though they laughed at him a good
deal. They found out from him where the English had come from. He did
not mind telling them, for he was really a gipsy from Yetholm, where the
gipsies live, and Scot or Southron was all one to him.

When old Simon Grieve knew who the people were that had taken the cows,
he was not long in calling the men together, and trying to get back what
he had lost. Early one April morning, a grey morning, with snow in the
air, he and his spearmen set out, riding down through the Forest, and so
into Liddes-dale. When they came back again, there were great rejoicings
at Fairnilee. They drove most of their own cows before them, and a great
many other cows that they had not lost; cows of the English farmers.
The byres and yards were soon full of cattle, lowing and roaring, very
uneasy, and some of them with marks of the spears that had goaded them
across many a ford, and up many a rocky pass in the hills.

Randal jumped downstairs to the great hall, where his mother sat. Simon
Grieve was telling her all about it.

"Sae we drave oor ain kye hame, my lady," he said, "and aiblins some
orra anes that was na oor ain. For-bye we raikit a' the plenishing oot
o' the ha' o' Hardriding, and a bonny burden o' tapestries, and plaids,
and gear we hae, to show for our ride."*

* "We drove our own cattle home, and perhaps some others
that were not ours. And we took all the goods out of the
hall at Hardriding, and a pretty load of tapestries, and