They propped
themselves on their elbows and stared. "Heather!" they ejaculated in
one breath. Then they, too, grinned broadly, for it was impossible to
resist so good-humoured an intruder. She held her head high and walked
like a queen, till a turn of the water hid her. "It's a wumman," gasped
the smaller boy. "And she's terrible bonny," commented the more
critical brother. Then the two fell again to the quest of the great
trout.
Meanwhile the girl pursued her way till she came to a fall where the
bank needed warier climbing. As she reached the top a little flushed
and panting, she became conscious that the upland valley was not without
inhabitants. For, not six paces off, stood a man's figure, his back
turned towards her, and his mind apparently set on mending a piece of
tackle.
She stood for a moment hesitating. How could she pass without being
seen? The man was blissfully unconscious of her presence, and as he
worked he whistled Schubert's "Wohin," and whistled it very badly. Then
he fell to apostrophizing his tackle, and then he grew irritable.
"Somebody come and keep this thing taut," he cried. "Tam, Jock! where
on earth are you?"
The thing in question was lying at Alice's feet in wavy coils.
"Jock, you fool, where are you?" cried the man, but he never looked
round and went on biting and tying. Then an impulse took the girl and
she picked up the line.
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