It was no time for gentle measures: my life hung in the balance.

But this was more than Willie could bear.

He turned from us, and once again pursued his pipes.

When he had nearly overtaken him, Turkey gave them a last masterly kick, which sent them flying through the air, caught them as they fell, and again sought the bog, while I, hoisting Davie on my back, hurried, with more haste than speed, towards the manse.
[Illustration] What took place after I left them, I have only from Turkey's report, for I never looked behind me till I reached the little green before the house, where, setting Davie down, I threw myself on the grass.

I remember nothing more till I came to myself in bed.
When Turkey reached the bog, and had got Wandering Willie well into the middle of it, he threw the bagpipes as far beyond him as he could, and then made his way out.