turn, would come slipping over from their
side to take like liberties with us, and mayhap burn down a house or two
in the by-going.

My father was aye in the thick and throng of these raids, for he was
such a big powerful man that he was more than a match for three
Englishmen, did he chance to meet them. Men called him an outlaw, but we
thought little of that; most of the brave men on our side had been
outlawed at one time or another, and it did them little ill: indeed, it
was aye thought to be rather a feather in their cap.

Well, as I say, my father was not riding on business, as it were, this
morning, for just then there was a truce for a day or two between the
countries, the two Wardens of the Marches, Sir Walter Scott of
Buccleuch, and My Lord Scroope, having sent their deputies to meet and
settle some affairs at the Dayholme of Kershope, where a burn divides
England from Scotland. My father and I had attended the Truce Muster,
and were riding homeward with but a handful of men, when I took a sudden
notion into my head, that I would like to cross the Border, and ride a
few miles on English ground.

My birthday had fallen the week before (I was just eleven years old),
and my father, aye kind to his motherless bairns, had given me a new
pony, a little shaggy beast from Galloway, and, as I was keen to see how
it would run beside a big man's horse, I had pled hard for permission to
accompany him on it to the Muster.

As a rule I never rode with him. "I was too young for the work," he
would say; but that day he gave his consent, only making the bargain
that there should be no crying out or grumbling if I were tired or
hungry long ere we got home again. I had laughed at the idea as I
saddled my shaggy little nag, and, to make matters sure, I had gone to
Janet, the kitchen wench, and begged her for a satchel of oatcakes and
cheese, which I fastened to my saddle strap, little dreaming what need I
would have of them before the day was out.

The Truce Muster had broken up sooner than he expected, so my father saw
no reason why he should not grant my request, and let me have a canter
on English soil, for on a day of truce we could cross the Border if we
chose without the risk of being taken prisoners by Lord Scroope's men,
and marched off to Carlisle Castle, while the English had a like
privilege, and could ride down Liddesdale in open daylight, if they were
so minded.

Scarce had we crossed the little burn, however,