Sim was becoming a man again.He had bathed his bruises and scratches in the burn, and Will o' Phawhope, who had skill as a leech, had set his arm and bound it to his side in splints of ash and raw hide.He had eaten grossly of flesh--the first time since the spring, and then it had only been braxy lamb.The ale had warmed his blood and quickened his wits.He began to feel pleased with himself.He had done well in the fray--had not young Harden praised him?--and surly Wat had owned that the salvage of so many beasts was Sim's doing."Man, Sim, ye wrocht michtily at the burnside," he had said."The heids crackit like nits when ye garred your staff sing.Better you wi' a stick than anither tnan wi' a sword." It was fine praise, and warmed Sim's chilly soul.For a year he had fought bitterly for bread, and now glory had come to him without asking.
Men were drawn by lot to drive the cattle, and others to form a rearguard.The rest set off for their homes by the nearest road.
The shelty had been recovered, and Sim to his pride found himself riding in the front with Wat and young Harden and others of the Scott and Elliot gentry.
The company rode fast over the green hills in the clear autumn noon.Harden's blue eyes danced, and he sang snatches in his gay voice.Wat rumbled his own praises and told of the raid over Liddel.Sim felt a new being from the broken man who the night before had wearily jogged on the same road.He told himself he took life too gravely and let care ride him too hard.He was too much thirled to the Cleuch and tied to his wife's apron.In the future he would see his friends, and bend the bicker with the rest of them.
By the darkening they had come to Ninemileburn, where Harden's road left theirs.Wat had them all into the bare dwelling, and another skin of ale was broached.A fire was lit and the men sprawled around it, singing songs.Then tales began, and they would have sat till morning, had not Harden called them to the road.Sim, too, got to his feet.He was thinking of the six miles yet before him, and as home grew nearer his spirits sank.
Dimly he remembered the sad things that waited his homecoming.
Wat made him a parting speech."Gude e'en to ye, Cousin Sim.
Ye've been a kind man to me the day.May I do as weel by you if ever the fray gangs by the Cleuch.I had a coo o' yours in pledge, and it was ane o the beasts the Musgraves speared.By the auld law your debt still stands, and if I likit I could seek anither pledge.But there'll be something awin' for rescue-shot, and wi' that and the gude wark ye've dune the day, I'm content to ca' the debt paid."Wat's words sounded kind, and no doubt Wat thought himself generous.Sim had it on his tongue to ask for a cow--even on a month's loan.But pride choked his speech.It meant telling of the pitiful straits at the Cleuch.After what had passed he must hold his head high amongst those full-fed Branksome lads.He thanked Wat, cried farewell to the rest, and mounted his shelty.
The moon was rising and the hills were yellow as corn.The shelty had had a feed of oats, and capered at the shadows.What with excitement, meat and ale, and the dregs of a great fatigue, Sim's mind was hazy, and his cheerfulness returned.He thought only on his exploits.He had done great things--he, Sim o' the Cleuch--and every man in the Forest would hear of them and praise his courage.There would be ballads made about him; he could hear the blind violer at the Ashkirk change-house singing--songs which told how Sim o' the Cleuch smote Bewcastle in the howe of the Brunt Burn--ash against steel, one against ten.The fancy intoxicated him; he felt as if he, too, could make a ballad.It would speak of the soft shiny night with the moon high in the heavens.It would tell of the press of men and beasts by the burnside, and the red glare of Harden's fires, and Wat with his axe, and above all of Sim with his ash-shaft and his long arms, and how Harden drove the raiders up the burn and Sim smote them silently among the cattle.Wat's exploits would come in, but the true glory was Sim's.But for him Scots saddles might have been empty and every beast safe over Liddel.
