They were watching the progress of a fence of great cedar rails which three or four men were building; and no wonder they watched it with vexation, for it went from line to line, dividing in two parts the land that had belonged to their father. He was dead now, and their brother Allister was far away, they knew not where, in search of gold; and there was no one now, besides themselves, except their mother, and the little ones who were so thoughtless, making merry with the great cedar chips which Angus Dhu sent, floating down the stream.
“Nobody but you and me to do anything; and what can we do?” continued the lad with a desponding gesture. “And my mother scarcely seems to care to try.”
“Whisht, Hamish dear; there’s no wonder,” said Shenac in a low voice. “But about the land. Angus Dhu can never get it surely!”
“He has gotten the half of it already. Who is to hinder his getting the rest?” said Hamish. “And he might as well have it. What can we do with it?”
“Was it wrong for him to take it, do you think, Hamish?” asked Shenac gravely.
“Not in law. Angus Dhu would never do what is unlawful. But he was hard on my father, and he says—”
Hamish paused to ask himself whether it was worth while to vex Shenac with the unkind words of Angus Dhu. But Shenac would not be denied the knowledge.
“What was it, Hamish? He would never dare to say a light word of our father. Did you not then and there show him the door?”
Shenac’s blue eye flashed. She was quite capable of doing that and more to vindicate her father’s memory.
“Whisht, Shenac,” said Hamish. “Angus Dhu loved my father, though he was hard on him. There were tears in his eyes when he spoke to my mother about him. But he says that the half of the land is justly his, for money that my father borrowed at different times, and for the interest which he could not pay. And he wants to buy the other half; for he says we can never carry on the farm, and I am afraid he is right,” added the lad despondingly.