female. He was a topping person
in his way, transacted considerable business on his own behalf, and was
entrusted by the best farmers in the Highlands, in preference to any
other drover in that district. He might have increased his business to
any extent had he condescended to manage it by deputy; but except a lad
or two, sister's sons of his own, Robin rejected the idea of assistance,
conscious, perhaps, how much his reputation depended upon his attending
in person to the practical discharge of his duty in every instance. He
remained, therefore, contented with the highest premium given to persons
of his description, and comforted himself with the hopes that a few
journeys to England might enable him to conduct business on his own
account, in a manner becoming his birth. For Robin Oig's father, Lachlan
M'Combich (or SON OF MY FRIEND, his actual clan surname being M'Gregor),
had been so called by the celebrated Rob Roy, because of the particular
friendship which had subsisted between the grandsire of Robin and that
renowned cateran. Some people even said that Robin Oig derived his
Christian name from one as renowned in the wilds of Loch Lomond as ever
was his namesake Robin Hood in the precincts of merry Sherwood. "Of such
ancestry," as James Boswell says, "who would not be proud?" Robin Oig
was proud accordingly; but his frequent visits to England and to the
Lowlands had given him tact enough to know that pretensions which still
gave him a little right to distinction in his own lonely glen, might
be both obnoxious and ridiculous if preferred elsewhere. The pride of
birth, therefore, was like the miser's treasure--the secret subject
of his contemplation, but never exhibited to strangers as a subject of
boasting.

Many were the words of gratulation and good-luck which were bestowed
on Robin Oig. The judges commended his drove, especially Robin's own
property, which were the best of them. Some thrust out their snuff-mulls
for the parting pinch, others tendered the DOCH-AN-DORRACH, or parting
cup. All cried, "Good-luck travel out with you and come home with you.
Give you luck in the Saxon market--brave notes in the LEABHAR-DHU,"
(black pocket-book), "and plenty of English gold in the SPORRAN" (pouch
of goat-skin).

The bonny lasses made their adieus more modestly, and more than one,
it was said, would have given her best brooch to be certain that it was
upon her that his eye last rested as he turned towards the road.

R