The farmer came up and greeted us, and said he'd been having a stroll through the heather before he went to bed.

I gied him a cigar--the last I had, too, but I was too relieved to care for that.
We walked along wi' him, and bade him gude nicht at the end of the road that led to his steading.

But the poacher was not grateful, for he sent the dogs into one of the farmer's corn fields as soon as he was oot of our sicht.
"There's hares in there," he said, "and they're sure to come oot this gate.

You watch and nail the hares as they show." He went in after the dogs, and Mac got a couple of stones while I made ready to kick any animal that appeared.

Soon two hares appeared, rustling through the corn.