came into his-head that he had himself fought
just six battles against the English and their allies, and that the poor
persevering spider was exactly in the same situation with himself,
having made as many trials and been so often disappointed in what it
aimed at. "Now," thought Bruce, "as I have no means of knowing what is
best to be done, I will be guided by the luck which shall attend this
spider. If the insect shall make another effort to fix its thread, and
shall be successful, I will venture a seventh time to try my fortune in
Scotland; but if the spider shall fail, I will go to the wars in
Palestine, and never return to my native country more."

While Bruce was forming this resolution the spider made another exertion
with all the force it could muster, and fairly succeeded in fastening
its thread to the beam which it had so often in vain attempted to reach.
Bruce, seeing the success of the spider, resolved to try his own
fortune; and as he had never before gained a victory, so he never
afterward sustained any considerable or decisive check or defeat. I have
often met with people of the name of Bruce, so completely persuaded of
the truth of this story, that they would not on any account kill a
spider, because it was that insect which had shown the example of
perseverance, and given a signal of good luck, to their great namesake.

Having determined to renew his efforts to obtain possession of Scotland,
notwithstanding the smallness of the means which he had for
accomplishing so great a purpose, the Bruce removed himself and his
followers from Rachrin to the island of Arran, which lies in the mouth
of the Clyde. The king landed and inquired of the first woman he met
what armed men were in the island. She returned for answer that there
had arrived there very lately a body of armed strangers, who had
defeated an English officer, the governor of the castle of Brathwick,
had killed him and most of his men, and were now amusing themselves with
hunting about the island. The king, having caused himself to be guided
to the woods which these strangers most frequented, there blew his horn
repeatedly.

Now, the chief of the strangers who had taken the castle was James
Douglas, one of the best of Bruce's friends, and he was accompanied by
some of the bravest of that patriotic band. When he heard Robert Bruce's
horn he knew the sound well, and cried out, that yonder was the king, he
knew by his manner of blowing. So he and hi