ine
temper, our young English drover was not without his defects. He was
irascible, sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome; and perhaps
not the less inclined to bring his disputes to a pugilistic decision,
because he found few antagonists able to stand up to him in the boxing
ring.

It is difficult to say how Harry Wakefield and Robin Oig first became
intimates, but it is certain a close acquaintance had taken place
betwixt them, although they had apparently few common subjects of
conversation or of interest, so soon as their talk ceased to be
of bullocks. Robin Oig, indeed, spoke the English language rather
imperfectly upon any other topics but stots and kyloes, and Harry
Wakefield could never bring his broad Yorkshire tongue to utter a single
word of Gaelic. It was in vain Robin spent a whole morning, during a
walk over Minch Moor, in attempting to teach his companion to utter,
with true precision, the shibboleth LLHU, which is the Gaelic for a
calf. From Traquair to Murder Cairn, the hill rung with the discordant
attempts of the Saxon upon the unmanageable monosyllable, and the
heartfelt laugh which followed every failure. They had, however, better
modes of awakening the echoes; for Wakefield could sing many a ditty to
the praise of Moll, Susan, and Cicely, and Robin Oig had a particular
gift at whistling interminable pibrochs through all their involutions,
and what was more agreeable to his companion's southern ear, knew many
of the northern airs, both lively and pathetic, to which Wakefield
learned to pipe a bass. Thus, though Robin could hardly have
comprehended his companion's stories about horse-racing, and
cock-fighting, or fox-hunting, and although his own legends of
clan-fights and CREAGHS, varied with talk of Highland goblins and
fairy folk, would have been caviare to his companion, they contrived,
nevertheless to find a degree of pleasure in each other's company,
which had for three years back induced them to join company and travel
together, when the direction of their journey permitted. Each,
indeed, found his advantage in this companionship; for where could the
Englishman have found a guide through the Western Highlands like Robin
Oig M'Combich? and when they were on what Harry called the RIGHT side of
the Border, his patronage, which was extensive, and his purse, which was
heavy, were at all times at the service of his Highland friend, and on
many occasions his liberality did him genuine yeoman's