Marion was drowsing, so he slipped to the door.

Outside, as he had said, the sky was clear. From the plashy hillside
came the rumour of swollen burns. Then he was aware of a man's voice
shouting.

"Sim," it cried, "Sim o' the Cleuch ... Sim." A sturdy figure came
down through the scrog of hazel and revealed itself as his neighbour of
the Dodhead. Jamie Telfer lived five miles off in Ettrick, but his was
the next house to the Cleuch shieling. Telfer was running, and his
round red face shone with sweat.

"Dod, man, Sim, ye're hard o' hearing. I was routin' like to wake the
deid, and ye never turned your neck. It's the fray I bring ye. Mount
and ride to the Carewoodrig. The word's frae Branksome. I've but
Ranklehope to raise, and then me and William's Tam will be on the road
to join ye."

"Whatna fray?" Sim asked blankly.

"Ninemileburn. Bewcastle's marching. They riped the place at
cockcrow, and took twenty-six kye, five horse and a walth o'
plenishing. They were seen fordin' Teviot at ten afore noon, but
they're gaun round by Ewes Water, for they durstna try the Hermitage
Slack. Forbye they move slow, for the bestial's heavy wark to drive.
They shut up Wat in the auld peel, and he didna win free till bye
midday. Syne he was off to Branksome, and the word frae Branksome is
to raise a' Ettrick, Teviotdale, Ale Water, and the Muirs o' Esk. We
look to win up wi' the lads long ere they cross Liddel, and that at the
speed they gang will be gey an' near sunrise. It's a braw mune for the
job."

Jarnie Telfer lay on his face by the burn and lapped up water like a
dog. Then without another word he trotted off across the hillside
beyond which lay the Ranklehope.

Sim had a fit of coughing and looked stupidly at the sky. Here was the
last straw. He was dog-tired, for he had had little sleep the past
week. There was no one to leave with Marion, and Marion was too weak
to tend herself. The word was from Branksome, and at another time
Branksome was to be obeyed. But now the thing was past reason. What
use was there for a miserable careworn man to ride among the swank,
well-fed lads in the Bewcastle chase? And then he remembered his cow.
She would be hirpling with the rest of the Ninemileburn beasts on the
road to the Border. The case was more desperate than he had thought.
She was gone for ever unless he helped Wat to win her back. And if she
went, where was the milk for the child?

He stared ho