ས

XXVI.

It was a lodge of ample size,

But strange of structure and device;

Of such materials, as around

The workman's hand had readiest found.
Lopp'd of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared,
And by the hatchet rudely squared,

To give the walls their destined height,
The sturdy oak and ash unite;

It was situated in the face of a very rough, high, and rocky mountain, called Letternilichk, still a part of Benalder, full of great stones and crevices, and some scattered wood interspersed. The habitation called the Cage, in the face of that mountain, was within a small thick bush of wood. There were first some rows of trees laid down, in order to level the floor for a habitation; and as the place was steep, this raised the lower side to an equal height with the other: and these trees, in the way of joists or planks, were levelled with earth and gravel. There were betwixt the trees growing naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed in the earth, which, with the trees, were interwoven with ropes, made of heath and birch twigs, up to the top of the Cage, it being of a round or rather oval shape; and the whole thatched and covered over with fog. The whole fabric hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined from the one end, all along the roof, to the other, and which gave it the name of the Cage; and by chance there happened to be two stones at a small distance from one another, in the side next the precipice, resembling the pillars of a chimney, where the fire was placed. The smoke had its vent out here, all along the fall of the rock, which was so much of the same color that one could discover no difference in the clearest day. — Home's History of the Rebellion, Lond. 1802, 4to, p. 381.

While moss and clay and leaves combined
To fence each crevice from the wind.
The lighter pine-trees, over-head,
Their slender length for rafters spread,
And wither'd heath and rushes dry
Supplied a russet canopy.

Due westward, fronting to the green,
A rural portico was seen,
Aloft on native pillars borne,

Of mountain fir with bark unshorn,
Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine
The ivy and Idæan vine,

The clematis, the favor'd flower

Which boasts the name of virgin-bower,
And every hardy plant could bear
Loch Katrine's keen and searching air.
An instant in this porch she staid,
And gaily to the stranger said,
"On heaven and on thy lady call,
And enter the enchanted hall!".

XXVII.

"My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,
My gentle guide, in following thee."-
He cross'd the threshold and a clang
Of angry steel that instant rang.
To his bold brow his spirit rush'd,
But soon for vain alarm he blush'd,
When on the floor he saw display'd,
Cause of the din, a naked blade

Dropp'd from the sheath, that careless flung
Upon a stag's huge antlers swung;

For all around the walls to grace,
Hung trophies of the fight or chase:
A target there, a bugle here,

A battle-axe, a hunting spear,

And broadswords, bows, and arrows store,
With the tusk'd trophies of the boar.
Here grins the wolf as when he died,1
And there the wild-cat's brindled hide
The frontlet of the elk adorns,
Or mantles o'er the bison's horns;
Pennons and flags defaced and stain'd,
That blackening streaks of blood retain'd,
And deer-skins, dappled, dun and white,
With otter's fur and seals unite,
In rude and uncouth tapestry all,
To garnish forth the silvan hall.

XXVIII.

The wandering stranger round him gazed,
And next the fallen weapon raised: -
Few were the arms whose sinewy strength
Sufficed to stretch it forth at length.
And as the brand he poised and sway'd,
"I never knew but one," he said,

1 MS.- Here grins the wolf as when he died,

There hung the wild-cat's brindled hide,
Above the elk's branch'd brow and skull,
And frontlet of the forest bull.

"Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield
A blade like this in battle-field."

She sigh'd, then smiled and took the word;
"You see the guardian champion's sword;
As light it trembles in his hand,
As in my grasp a hazel wand;

My sire's tall form might grace the part
Of Ferragus, or Ascabart; 1

1

But in the absent giant's hold
Are women now, and menials old."

XXIX.

The mistress of the mansion came,
Mature of age, a graceful dame;
Whose easy step and stately port
Had well become a princely court,

To whom, though more than kindred knew

Young Ellen gave a mother's due.2

Meet welcome to her guest she made,

And every courteous rite was paid,
That hospitality could claim,

Though all unask'd his birth and name.3

1 See Appendix, Note B.

2 MS. To whom, though more remote her claim,

Young Ellen gave a mother's name.

3 The Highlanders, who carried hospitality to a punctilious excess, are said to have considered it as churlish, to ask a stranger his name or lineage, before he had taken refreshment. Feuds were so frequent among them, that a contrary rule would in many cases have produced the discovery of some circumstance, which might have excluded the guest from the benefit of the assistance he stood in need of.

Such then the reverence to a guest,
That fellest foe might join the feast,
And from his deadliest foeman's door
Unquestion'd turn, the banquet o'er.
At length his rank the stranger names,
"The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James;
Lord of a barren heritage,

Which his brave sires, from age to age,

By their good swords had held with toil;
His sire had fall'n in such turmoil,

And he, God wot, was forced to stand
Oft for his right with blade in hand.
This morning with Lord Moray's train
He chased a stalwart stag in vain,
Outstripp'd his comrades, miss'd the deer,
Lost his good steed, and wander'd here."

XXX.

Fain would the Knight in turn require
The name and state of Ellen's sire,
Well show'd the elder lady's mien, 1
That courts and cities she had seen;
Ellen, though more her looks display'd2

1 MS.-Well show'd the mother's easy mien.
2 MS. - Ellen, though more her looks betray'd
The simple heart of mountain maid,
In speech and gesture, form and grace,
Show'd she was come of gentle race;
'Twas strange, in birth so rude, to find
Such face, such manners, and such mind.
Each anxious hint the stranger gave,
The mother heard with silence grave.