gave us our direction, and there was the sound of a falling stream. To
an upland-bred man mist is little of a hindrance, unless on a
featureless moor.

Ever as we jogged upward the air grew colder. Rain was blowing in our
teeth, and the ferny grass and juniper clumps dripped with wet. Almost
it might have been the Pentlands or the high mosses between Douglas
Water and Clyde. To us coming fresh from the torrid plains it was
bitter weather, and I feared for Elspeth, who was thinly clad for the
hill-tops. Ringan seemed to feel the cold the worst of us, for he had
spent his days in the hot seas of the south. He put his horse-blanket
over his shoulders, and cut a comical figure with his red face peeping
from its folds.

"Lord," he would cry, "I wish I was in the Dry Tortugas or snug in the
beach-house at the Isle o' Pines. This minds me painfully of my young
days, when I ran in a ragged kilt in the cold heather of Cruachan. I
must be getting an old man, Andrew, for I never thought the hills could
freeze my blood."

Suddenly the fog lightened a little, the slope ceased, and we had that
gust of freer air which means the top of the pass. My head was less
dizzy now, and I had a momentary gladness that at any rate we had done
part of what we set out to do.

"Clearwater Gap!" I cried. "Except for old Studd, we are the first
Christians to stand on this watershed."

Below us lay a swimming hollow of white mist, hiding I knew not what
strange country.

From the vales below I had marked the lie of the land on each side of
the gap. The highest ground was to the right, so we turned up the
ridge, which was easier than the glen and better travelling. Presently
we were among pines again, and got a shelter from the driving rain. My
plan was to find some hollow far up the mountain side, and there to
make our encampment. After an hour's riding, we came to the very place
I had sought. A pocket of flat land lay between two rocky knolls, with
a ring of good-sized trees around it. The spot was dry and hidden, and
what especially took my fancy was a spring of water which welled up in
the centre, and from which a tiny stream ran down the hill. 'Twas a
fine site for a stockade, and so thought Shalah and the two Borderers.

There was much to do to get the place ready, and Donaldson and Bertrand
fell to with their axes to fell trees for the fort. Now that we had
reached the first stage in our venture, my mind was unreasonably
comforted. With