elf. But he did better than hide in the
house. Springing out of bed, he actually broke a hole through the
"divets" or turfs of the thatch, and creeping through it, climbed down
outside, just as his adversaries, certain of capturing their prize,
were mounting the ladder which led to his bed-chamber. When the
exciseman saw the empty bed he cried with an angry oath:

"Here's the nest--still warm; but the bird's awa'!" The "bird" had
flown to a more hidden place of retirement under cover of the darkness!

In later years Davie was not much molested by the representatives of
the excise. A gauger was indeed stationed in a town ten miles distant,
but he was elderly, and not over energetic. He would make a formal
visit now and again to suspected districts, and content himself with a
few casual inquiries. As a matter of fact, he was personally quite
inadequate to the task of searching for illicit stills in a district of
such abundant hidden recesses.

But there was a change of front when the old officer retired and a
young and energetic man succeeded him. A "new broom" is eulogized in
proverb; and Mr. Michael Bonar, being new to his district, and a man of
youth and determination, boasted that he meant to sweep away the taint
of smuggling from the neighborhood of Ardmuirland, which bore a bad
name in that respect.

The boast of the incautious gauger was repeated far and wide, and a
strong spirit of opposition was aroused. Many a wary practitioner
began to devise cunning means of concealment, and to invent traps to
catch their adversary and turn him into ridicule. Davie Forbes was not
behindhand in making remote preparations for the ganger's certain visit
to him. But it was then mid-winter, and if Bonar was the canny man
that he was said to be, there would be little fear of any attempted
search for Davie's implements and stores before spring had set in. So
the Forbes family congratulated themselves upon the security of their
airy nest, and would smile grimly when the name of Bonar was mentioned.

The gauger was, it is true, canny, but his youth made him perhaps a
trifle too venturesome. He was not unused to climbing, and had scaled
many a mountain more imposing than Ben Sguarrach; but it was not in
winter; forgetfulness of that trifling circumstance led to his
discomfiture. Ben Sguarrach was indeed no pleasant place in wintry
weather. Its open spaces were swept by icy blasts; snow often drifted
to unparalleled d