rsel'," said Tavish. "Ye'll know next
time what to do."

"And she sailed pack all py herself?" said Long Shon.

"Yes. But do make haste. They will think me so long."

"Let's ket the watter oot," said Tavish. "You, Shon, ket the rope oot
o' the poat-hoose; or shall she leave ta poys till to-morrow?"

"What! leave them all night?" cried Max in horror.

The great forester chuckled as he looked up at Max, and kept on baling
away, while Long Shon rowed ashore.

"Na; she'll go ant fetch 'em. So ta crapnel line proke?"

"Yes."

"She must ha' peen ferry pad."

"Yes, of course," said Max, who sat there contentedly enough, but vexed
as he found how his ignorance of a boat had caused him a couple of
hours' terror.

Tavish toiled away with the baler till it would scoop up no more, and
then, taking a great sponge from the locker, he sopped up and squeezed
till the bottom of the boat was quite clear of water, and by this time,
close down by the keel, Max had seen an ordinary wine-cork, with a piece
of whipcord attached to it, stuck upright in the hole used for draining
the boat when she was ashore.

Then the bottom boards were replaced, and the forester passed an oar
over the side, so as to paddle the boat up to the rock where Long Shon
was waiting, with a ring of new-looking rope over his arm.

"Wha's ta Chief?" said Long Shon, as they came alongside.

"Gane over ta hill."

"With his gun?"

"Na; reading a pit latter."

"Ta Mackhai gane walking with a pit latter!" said Long Shon. "What's
coming to ta man?"

Tavish shook his head, and looked serious. Then Long Shon stepped in,
and the boat was thrust off.

"She'll pe ferry ancry when she finds we're gane," said the forester
slowly. "Put we must go and fetch ta young Chief."

"Ant tit she ever sail a poat in the lochs in Lonton?" asked Long Shon,
as the boat sped away rapidly, with the wind nearly dead astern.

"There are no lochs in London," replied Max, smiling.

"Nae lochs!" exclaimed the two Highlanders in a breath.

"No."

"Why, she thought Lonton wass a ferry fine place."

"So it is; full of great streets and shops."

"There's ferry coot shops i' Stirling," said Long Shon proudly, "and so
there is in Oban. She'll pe pound there's no petter shops in Lonton
than there is in Oban. Put no lochs?"

"No."

"I ton't think she shall think much coot o' Lonton, Tavish," said Long
Shon rather scornfully.

"Put she shall have sailed a poat pefo