“She dinna see nae heather,” said Watty suddenly, “an’ she dinna see nae bluebell; but it’s verra bonnie oot here, Meester Steve. Will ta captain be gaen far awa?”
“Oh yes, a long way yet, Watty. We’ve got to shoot some deer to take back.”
“Eh? Shoot the deer an’ tak’ back! But she’ll be hungry sune, and when she’s shot a teer she’ll mak’ a fire and roast her. For she’s a fine, gude cook now, and wad like to stay ashore now and build a hoose and shoot and hunt. Wait a wee, and she’ll mak’ a bonnie fire.”
“What of?” said Steve, laughing. “We haven’t shot our deer yet; and if we had, there’s no wood here.”
“Thenk o’ tat,” said Watty, cocking his bonnet on one side to give his head a scratch. “Nae wud! She’s nane sae fine a countrie as bonnie Scotland, then. Nae wud!” he continued, looking round. “But she’ll find a forest over yonder?”
“No, there are no trees here.”
“Then she’ll mak’ a fire o’ peat. She’ll find plenty o’ turves doon alangside o’ ta bilberries.”
“Yes, you may find turf, and perhaps coal; but we shall see.”
They had to hurry a little to overtake the party, and this was soon made easier from their halting about a mile farther inland, where the captain was gazing up the stony slope of the mountain to their left.
Steve looked up, expecting to see some particular plant or perhaps bird; but he was soon undeceived by the doctor handing his rifle to Andrew and climbing up a little way to kick off some masses of something and throw them down.