He flung himself down on a grassy bank under the pitying outstretched arms of the old King of the Glen who loved him.
Poor, poor lad! I was more and more sorry for him, but I kept my distance.
What was to be my next move? Ah! fortune favours the bold pony. I shut my eyes delightedly. Over my hot head blew the lovely cool spirit wind. The old Highlander was after the boy. He was cleverer than I. My care would be shifted to his furry shoulders.
The wolf cub was with him, racing along spirit-wise through his beloved forest, and hard on his heels came a living thing who paid no attention to me but threw himself on the suffering boy.
It was Guardie, the collie. How he licked his young master and prostrated himself before him as if to say, "Do return home with us. We all love you. Girlie would have come but she had to stay with our charges."
The boy could not help being touched by this display of affection, especially as the Highlander was bending over him and willing good thoughts into his mind.
He broke down and sobbed like a baby. "Mother! Dad!" he cried, and he stretched out his pleading arms toward his dear home.
Hark! what was that coming on the night wind? Guardie pricked his ears, and the Highlander with his lovely Scotch smile waved a hand toward his wolf pet and away they went, melting into the shadows of the wood. The boy did not need them any longer.
"Pound! Pound! Gallop! Gallop!"—I heard it, I knew those gaits. Patsie McSquirrel and Backwoods Beauty were on the trail too and they were not alone.
Thank the stars that shine over erring boys, and the bright Lady Moon who had shone in the mother's face till she woke her up. The runaway would be royally escorted home.