Jamie eyed the tobacco with a look of great satisfaction, clapped a couple of inches from the end of it in his cheek, and looking Udny in the face, with an air of great seriousness, said—
“What is’t Laird?”
“You must shak’-a-fa’ for me, Fleeman,” said Udny.
“Is that a’?” cried Jamie.
“But it is with soldiers, Jamie; and if ye throw them, ye shall get another half-pound of tobacco.”
Jamie began to gambol and cut capers, as was his custom when in good humour, and Udny saw his point was gained.
On the appointed day Jamie appeared at the Cross of Aberdeen bareheaded, his hair standing on end as on ordinary occasions, and dressed in the sackcloth coat which he usually wore. The soldiers, not deeming that they jested with their antagonist, were playing on him all sorts of tricks. When the hour approached the Colonel appeared, and had his men drawn up in order. Seeing no person with Udny, he demanded him, with an air of triumph, to produce the cowherd who was to throw the best man that England could produce. Udny beckoned to Jamie, who came capering forward. The officer looked with an air of contempt on Udny and his cow-boy, whilst a loud laugh burst from the soldiers when they saw the poor idiot whom they had lately been jeering brought forward as a match for any man in the company. As the soldiers were really fine men, and expert wrestlers, their commander, instead of selecting the strongest of his party, ordered out one of the weakest, determined, as he thought, to turn the laugh, as well as the bet, against Udny.
“Do you take the first shake?” inquired the soldier, approaching Jamie not without some evidence of aversion.
“Na, na,” replied Jamie; “tak’ ye the first shake, for fear ye getna anither,” and he threw the soldier from him as he would have done a child.
Another and more powerful man shared the same fate. The Colonel now began to suspect that Udny’s man was better than he looked. He was likewise irritated by the smiles on the faces of the bystanders, and ordered out the best man in his regiment.