"We were no more than clear of the loch-side path, when Douglas bade old Sandy tune his pipes to help the men along the easier road with a song.
"'A Whig's sang or a King's-man's sang?' asked the auld tod blythely.
"'Hoot, a Cavalier's song—what need hae we to tak' the Book here!' cried Douglas loudly.
"'More need than inclination!' said Claverhouse scornfully, who was now riding beside them.
"Sandy Gillespie, who was an exceedingly far-seeing old worthy, pretended that he was loth to sing, whereat Douglas ordered him with an oath to sing upon peril of his life.
"So the old man struck up in a high piping voice, but none so ill in tune:
'Our thistles flourished fresh and fair,
And bonny bloomed our roses,
But Whigs cam' like a frost in June,
And withered a' oor posies.'
"As he went on the old man's voice grew louder, and in a little, half the command was cantily shouting the song, which indeed goes very well to march to.
"'And there's Bongill,' cried Sandy, suddenly stopping and dropping off his horse, 'an' guid e'en to ye!'
"And with that the old fellow slid off among the brush-wood and copse, and we saw no more of him—which perhaps was as well for him.