the cattle rendered
wearisomely slow. In the midst my two conductors marched in a contented
silence that I could not but admire. The more I looked at them, the more
I was impressed by their absurd resemblance to each other. They were
dressed in the same coarse home-spun, carried similar sticks, were
equally begrimed about the nose with snuff, and each wound in an
identical plaid of what is called the shepherd's tartan. In a back view
they might be described as indistinguishable; and even from the front
they were much alike. An incredible coincidence of humours augmented the
impression. Thrice and four times I attempted to pave the way for some
exchange of thought, sentiment, or--at the least of it--human words. An
_Ay_ or a _Nhm_ was the sole return, and the topic died on the hillside
without echo. I can never deny that I was chagrined; and when, after a
little more walking, Sim turned towards me and offered me a ram's horn
of snuff, with the question, "Do ye use it?" I answered, with some
animation, "'Faith, sir, I would use pepper to introduce a little
cordiality." But even this sally failed to reach, or at least failed to
soften, my companions.

At this rate we came to the summit of a ridge, and saw the track descend
in front of us abruptly into a desert vale, about a league in length,
and closed at the farther end by no less barren hill-tops. Upon this
point of vantage Sim came to a halt, took off his hat, and mopped his
brow.

"Weel," he said, "here we're at the top o' Howden."

"The top o' Howden, sure eneuch," said Candlish.

"Mr. St. Ivy, are ye dry?" said the first.

"Now, really," said I, "is not this Satan reproving sin?"

"What ails ye, man?" said he. "I'm offerin' ye a dram."

"O, if it be anything to drink," said I, "I am as dry as my neighbours."

Whereupon Sim produced from the corner of his plaid a black bottle, and
we all drank and pledged each other. I found these gentlemen followed
upon such occasions an invariable etiquette, which you may be certain I
made haste to imitate. Each wiped his mouth with the back of his left
hand, held up the bottle in his right, remarked with emphasis, "Here's
to ye!" and swallowed as much of the spirit as his fancy prompted. This
little ceremony, which was the nearest thing to manners I could perceive
in either of my companions, was repeated at becoming intervals,
generally after an ascent. Occasionally we shared a mouthful of ewe-milk
cheese and an ingloriou