TICONDEROGA: A LEGEND OF THE WEST HIGHLANDS HIS is the tale of the man TH Who heard a word in the night In the land of the heathery hills, In the days of the feud and the fight. Where never a stranger came, It hummed in his waking head: The utterance of the dead. 10 I. THE SAYING OF THE NAME On the loch-sides of Appin, When the mist blew from the sea, 20 30 40 The blood beat in his ears, The blood ran hot to his head, And there was the Cameron dead. O, what have I done to mysel', And death at each of the fords, Camerons priming gunlocks And Camerons sharpening swords." But this was a man of counsel, He looked on the blowing mist, He looked on the awful dead, And there came a smile on his face And there slipped a thought in his head. Out over cairn and moss, Out over scrog and scaur, That bears the cross of war. His heart beat in his body, His hair clove to his face, When he came at last in the gloaming TICONDEROGA To the dead man's brother's place. The east was white with the moon, The west with the sun was red, And there, in the house-doorway, Stood the brother of the dead. "I have slain a man to my danger, For I know your hands are leal; Then up and spoke the Cameron, And whatever man you have slaughtered, By my sword and yonder mountain, I make your quarrel mine. 1 I bid you in to my fireside, 50 60 I share with you house and hall; 70 It stands upon my honour It fell in the time of midnight, And the plaids were over the faces |