his commission; for her own motions,
and those of all her elder inmates, were closely watched. With ingenuity
beyond her years, the child used to stray about among the soldiers, who
were rather kind to her, and thus seize the moment when she was
unobserved and steal into the thicket, when she deposited whatever small
store of provisions she had in charge at some marked spot, where her
father might find it. Invernahyle supported life for several weeks by
means of these precarious supplies; and, as he had been wounded in the
battle of Culloden, the hardships which he endured were aggravated by
great bodily pain. After the soldiers had removed their quarters he had
another remarkable escape.
As he now ventured to his own house at night and left it in the morning,
he was espied during the dawn by a party of the enemy, who fired at and
pursued him. The fugitive being fortunate enough to escape their search,
they returned to the house and charged the family with harbouring one of
the proscribed traitors. An old woman had presence of mind enough to
maintain that the man they had seen was the shepherd. 'Why did he not
stop when we called to him?' said the soldier. 'He is as deaf, poor man,
as a peat-stack,' answered the ready-witted domestic. 'Let him be sent
for directly.' The real shepherd accordingly was brought from the hill,
and, as there was time to tutor him by the way, he was as deaf when he
made his appearance as was necessary to sustain his character.
Invernahyle was afterwards pardoned under the Act of Indemnity.
The Author knew him well, and has often heard these circumstances from
his own mouth. He was a noble specimen of the old Highlander, far
descended, gallant, courteous, and brave, even to chivalry. He had been
out, I believe, in 1715 and 1745, was an active partaker in all the
stirring scenes which passed in the Highlands betwixt these memorable
eras; and, I have heard, was remarkable, among other exploits, for having
fought a duel with the broadsword with the celebrated Rob Roy MacGregor
at the clachan of Balquidder.
Invernahyle chanced to be in Edinburgh when Paul Jones came into the
Firth of Forth, and though then an old man, I saw him in arms, and heard
him exult (to use his own words) in the prospect of drawing his claymore
once more before he died.' In fact, on that memorable occasion, when the
capital of Scotland was menaced by three trifling sloops or brigs, scarce
fit to have sacked a fishing vi
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