ross which a
cold north-east wind, with frost on its wing, was whistling to the tune
of the Pipers of Strath-Dearn.*

* The winds which sweep a wild glen in Badenoch are so called.

The Highlanders, sheltered by their plaids, lay down on the heath
comfortably enough, but the Lowlanders had no protection whatever. Rob
Roy observing this, directed one of his followers to afford the old man a
portion of his plaid; "for the callant (boy), he may," said the
freebooter, "keep himself warm by walking about and watching the cattle."
My informant heard this sentence with no small distress; and as the frost
wind grew more and more cutting, it seemed to freeze the very blood in
his young veins. He had been exposed to weather all his life, he said,
but never could forget the cold of that night; insomuch that, in the
bitterness of his heart, he cursed the bright moon for giving no heat
with so much light. At length the sense of cold and weariness became so
intolerable that he resolved to desert his watch to seek some repose and
shelter. With that purpose he couched himself down behind one of the most
bulky of the Highlanders, who acted as lieutenant to the party. Not
satisfied with having secured the shelter of the man's large person, he
coveted a share of his plaid, and by imperceptible degrees drew a corner
of it round him. He was now comparatively in paradise, and slept sound
till daybreak, when he awoke, and was terribly afraid on observing that
his nocturnal operations had altogether uncovered the dhuiniewassell's
neck and shoulders, which, lacking the plaid which should have protected
them, were covered with _cranreuch_ (_i.e._ hoar frost). The lad rose in
great dread of a beating, at least, when it should be found how
luxuriously he had been accommodated at the expense of a principal person
of the party. Good Mr. Lieutenant, however, got up and shook himself,
rubbing off the hoar frost with his plaid, and muttering something of a
_cauld neight._ They then drove on the cattle, which were restored to
their owner without farther adventure--The above can hardly be termed a
tale, but yet it contains materials both for the poet and artist.

It was perhaps about the same time that, by a rapid march into the
Balquhidder hills at the head of a body of his own tenantry, the Duke of
Montrose actually surprised Rob Roy, and made him prisoner. He was
mounted behind one of the Duke's followers, named James Stewart, and made
fast to him b