o one
of theirs should be carried off to endure the shame of the
cat-o'-nine-tails.

Earl Raincy made a tour of his estates, and the farmers promised
wonderful things, but carefully and immediately sent their lads to the
heather and the hill-caves for change of air. The girls took to the
plough and threshed the grain on the beaten earth of the barn
floor--emerging tired, but bright-eyed and happy. This, at least, they
could do to keep Alec or John from the dread triangle and the lacerating
whip. The Frenchman's bullet they were willing to risk, but not these.
Galloway furnished its full tale of officers to both services, but as a
recruiting-ground, even in milder times, it has given poor results.

In 1812 there was a good deal of writing about patriotism in struggling
local journals. The big farmers were often loud-voiced, and the
publicans hung out colours when the recruiting-officers made temporary
headquarters of their houses, but the mass of the people stood silent,
sullen and determined. They would not be taken, and if any were seized
they would put up such a fight that the "press" would pay three or four
lives for one. The chiefs would stay their hand, they argued, if they
had to pay the price of three or four formed and disciplined men for a
single unwilling recruit who would certainly desert at the first
opportunity.

In the old outlaws' cave on Isle Ryan, towards the Mull out beyond
Orraland, thirty or forty young men were gathered. They were not afraid
of any attack by land or water. The stony bulk of the isle did not even
fear cannon, and the passage, open only at low water, was exceedingly
easily defended. Provisions they had in plenty, and for more they had
only to cross to the mainland, where every farmer would willingly supply
them.

Lads from all Galloway were there, shock-headed Vikings, with
far-looking blue eyes, from Kirkmaiden to Leswalt, black, hook-nosed
Blairs and McCallums from Garlieston sat beside Rerrick and Colvend men
with deep-set eyes, the fine flower of the Free Trade, men whose
forefathers had run cargoes for a hundred and thirty years into the same
ports, and refused King's service for many thousand, though perfectly
obedient to their own lords and war committees. There were always a
plenty of fighting men along Solway shore, as the published rolls of
1638 attest.[1] Willing were they to fight, only they would fight when
and against whom they chose, under such and such officers, a