"Saw ye ever a finer lad! Who is he, Erskine?"
"That is what I would like to ken mysel," said the other.
They spoke to him; they tried to rouse him; but he only moaned, and murmured, "O mother, I dinna want to tend the sheep ony mair. I want to gang back to the scule."
Before they had succeeded in rousing him they saw the stalwart form of honest Wullie striding towards them. So anxious was he that he forgot the usual courtesies, and did not raise his bonnet, but called out, "Is he dead?"
"No, he is not dead," was the cheering answer.
"Praise the gude Lord!" came reverently from the lips of honest Wullie.
On reaching the boy he lifted his head in his arms, shook him gently, and called his name: "Jamie! rouse up, Jamie!" After much shaking and calling, Jamie opened his eyes and looked wonderingly around, as if trying to identify himself and his surroundings. Then gradually recovering consciousness, he recognized his father.
"Faither, I missed my footing and cam to the bottom. I am no sure but I fainted, for I canna remember what happened after I fell. When I was able to think I felt a pain in my back, and I was so sair that I could hardly stir. I didna dare to move in the darkness for fear I should get another fall, so I just prayed a' by mysel here, and I kenned weel ye would pray for me at hame, so I wasna afeard. But where is the flock?"
"The flock is a' right. Dinna fash your heid aboot the flock," said Wullie, brushing away a tear.
Jamie tried to rise, but the first movement gave him pain. Wullie lifted him tenderly. "I feel," he said, "that I could tak ye in my arms and rin wi' you to your mither, I am that glad to find you alive. It is naught but the care o' God, Jamie, that saved ye frae being dashed to pieces amang the stanes."