Israel Kinmont used to frequent us a good deal about this time. He never preached to us, nor indeed would he talk freely of his “experiences” amongst such Calvinists as my grandfather and grandmother.
“The gold of the kingdom doth not need the refiner’s art!” he had said once when this remissness was made a reproach to him. Since the loss of his boat, the Tabernacle, he had bought first one donkey and then two with his little savings. These he loaded with salt for Cairn Edward and the farms on the way, and so by a natural transition, took to the trade of itinerant voyager on land instead of on the sea, bringing back a store of such cloths and spices as were in most request among the goodwives of the farm-towns.
He had been so long a sailor man that he could not help it, if a certain flavour of the brine clung to him still. Besides, there were jerseys and great sea-boots to be worn out. Neddy and Teddy, his two fine donkeys, were soon fitted with “steering gear,” among the intricacies of which their active heels often got “foul.” They “ran aground” with alarming frequency, scraping their pack-saddles against the walls of narrow lanes. Their master knew no peace of mind till, having passed the narrows, he found on some moor or common “plenty o’ sea-room,” notwithstanding the danger that “plenty o’ sea-room” might induce the too artful Teddy to “turn topsails under,” or in other words indulge in a roll upon the grass.
Finally, Neddy and Teddy were “brought to anchor” in some friendly stable, in none oftener than in ours of Heathknowes, where cargo was unloaded and sometimes even the ships themselves “docked” and laid up for repairs. For this merciful Israel was merciful to his beasts, and often went into repairing dock for a saddle gall, which another would never have even noticed.
When the pair were browsing free in the field he would call them “to receive cargo,” and hoist the Blue Peter by a sounding, “Neddy, ahoy! Ahoy there, Teddy!” And if, as was likely, they only flourished their heels and refused with scorn to come and be saddled, he uttered his sternest summons, “Ship’s company, all hands on deck!” which meant that his son Jacob—starboard watch, must come and help port watch—Israel himself, to capture Teddy and Neddy.
Neddy was generally willing enough, unless when led from the plain course of maritime duty by Teddy. On these occasions Israel used to quote from the “articles” relating to the Mutiny Act, and has even been known to go so far as threaten Teddy with “a round dozen” at the main-mast as soon as he could lay hands on a “rope’s end.”
The which was all the same to Teddy.
It was beautiful to see the flotilla navigating the level surface of Killantringan moor—level, that is, by comparison. For first there were the little waves of the sheep-tracks, then the gentle rollers of the moss-hags, and, last of all, certain black dangerous Maélstroms from which last year’s peats had been dug, in which a moment’s folly on the part of Neddy or Teddy might engulf the Armada for ever.
As they set sail Jacob Kinmont was first and second mate, but in particular, look-out-man. He went ahead, keeping a wary eye for dangers and obstacles, and on the whole the donkeys followed docilely enough in his wake. Israel’s post as captain was behind at the tiller-ropes, whence he shouted exact instructions with nautical exactitude, such as “A point to the west, Neddy!” Or, pathetically, “DID I say nor’-nor’-east, Teddy, or didn’t I?”
This last had a ring of affection in it, for, in spite of his naughty habits (or because of them) Teddy was distinctly the favourite. Also he had a habit of nuzzling his moist nose into the breast of the old man’s reefer coat in search of sweet things, a trick which the more patient and reliable Neddy never acquired. And if Teddy forgot to come inquiring after the hidden sweets, Israel was quite heart-broken.