the peat-moss. All that night the anxious mother kept
weary vigil, while the men-folk searched the hill. Day broke, and no
trace had been found of the lost child. Weary and sad, the men
returned for some needful rest and others took their places. But
though they traversed the moors all day, and searched crevices and
water-courses with diligence, they met with no better success.
Sometimes a sound would break through the stillness which would stir
their hearts with renewed hope. The cry of a child! Weak and faint,
indeed, but telling of the continuance of life! But again and again,
after scaling heights or creeping down comes, they were doomed to
disappointment. It was but the bleat of a strayed lamb! That night a
larger party set out with lanterns and torches, and once more ranged
the hills shouting for the child; but once again morning dawned upon
disappointed hopes.

Then every one who could be of any possible use was pressed into the
service. The people flocked out of their homes from all that district,
and hand in hand they started in a long line stretching across a wide
tract of country, and moving slowly on until every inch of ground in
their way had been thoroughly explored.

It was after three nights and three days had passed that they came upon
the weak little body, lying stark and still under an overhanging rock,
and half buried in the heather. Moss was clutched in her clenched
hand, and shreds of moss were on her cold lips; the poor little bairn
had hungered for food, and had seized that which first came to hand to
satisfy her craving. She was quite dead.

The bereaved mother mourned her darling with a grief that none but a
mother can know. But the child had been her father's special pet of
all his little flock.

"His heart," said Bell, the rising tears witnessing to the sadness of
the memories called back by her story, "was well-nigh broke. He burst
into tears at the sight of her wee white face, and sobbed like a bairn
wi' the rest of us."

And poor little Peggy! How touching the story! She never ceased to
reproach herself for what she considered her carelessness in losing
sight of Jessie on that fatal day. No single creature attached a
shadow of blame to her; on the contrary, it was the dearest wish of all
to try to console her and assure her of her innocence in that respect.
But it was of no avail. Her unceasing grief fretted away her strength,
and six months later she was borne to