stood musing over it myself,
when a shepherd on one of the farms, of which it formed the extreme
boundary, and thinking what could induce a young man, who had scarcely
reached the prime of life, to brave his Maker, and rush into His
presence by an act of his own erring hand, and one so unnatural and
preposterous. But it never once occurred to me, as an object of
curiosity, to dig up the mouldering bones of the Culprit, which I
considered as the most revolting of all objects. The thing was,
however, done last month, and a discovery made of one of the greatest
natural phenomena that I have heard of in this country.

"The little traditionary history that remains of this unfortunate youth
is altogether a singular one. He was not a native of the place, nor
would he ever tell from what place he came; but he was remarkable for a
deep, thoughtful, and sullen disposition. There was nothing against his
character that anybody knew of here, and he had been a considerable
time in the place. The last service he was in was with a Mr. Anderson,
of Eltrive (Ault-Righ, the King's Burn), who died about 100 years ago,
and who had hired him during the summer to herd a stock of young cattle
in Eltrive Hope. It happened one day in the month of September that
James Anderson, his master's son, went with this young man to the Hope
to divert himself. The herd had his dinner along with him, and about
one o'clock, when the boy proposed going home, the former pressed him
very hard to stay and take share of his dinner; but the boy refused for
fear his parents might be alarmed about him, and said he would go home:
on which the herd said to him, 'Then, if ye winna stay with me, James,
ye may depend on't I'll cut my throat afore ye come back again.'

"I have heard it likewise reported, but only by one person, that there
had been some things stolen out of his master's house a good while
before, and that the boy had discovered a silver knife and fork that
was a part of the stolen property, in the herd's possession that day,
and that it was this discovery that drove him to despair.

"The boy did not return to the Hope that afternoon; and, before
evening, a man coming in at the pass called The Hart Loup, with a drove
of lambs, on the way for Edinburgh, perceived something like a man
standing in a strange frightful position at the side of one of
Eldinhope hay-ricks. The driver's attention was riveted on this strange
uncouth figure, and, as the drove-road