THE RUBISLAW QUARRIES.
One of his favourite spots was the Den[12] and quarries of Rubislaw. There were five excellent places in the Den for birds’ nests and wild flowers. But he went to the quarries chiefly to find the big bits of sheep’s silver or mica in the face of the rocks. Edward was much astonished at the size of the rocks. He knew how birds made their nests; he knew how flowers and whins grew out of the ground; but he did not know how rocks grew. He asked his parents for the reason. They told him that these rocks had existed from the beginning. This did not satisfy him, and he determined to ask one of the men at the quarry, who certainly ought to know how the rocks grew. “How do the rocks grow?” asked he of a quarryman one day. “Fat say ye?” Tom repeated the question. “To the deil wi’ ye, ye impudent brat, or I’ll toss ye owre the head o’ the quarry!” Tom took to his heels and fled, never looking back.
Another favourite haunt was Daiddie Brown’s burnie. There were plantations and hedges near it, and fields close at hand on either side. Its banks were thickly clothed with wild raspberries and whins—the habitats of numerous birds. The burn itself had plenty of water-dogs, or water-rats, along its banks. That neighbourhood has now been entirely overbuilt. The trees, the hedges, the whins, and even the burn itself, have all been swept away.
LOVE OF BIRDNESTING.
Tom’s knowingness about birds’ nests attracted many of his boy-fellows to accompany him in his expeditions. He used to go wandering on, forgetful of time, until it became very late. On such occasions, the parents of the boys became very anxious about them; and knowing that Tam Edward was the cause of their being kept so long away from home, they forbade them accompanying him again on any account. When he asked them to go with him a-birdnesting, their answer usually was, “Wha wad gang wi’ you? ye never come hame!” Even when Tom did get any boys to follow him, he usually returned alone.
“A BYKE” IN THE WOOD.
On one occasion he got some boys to accompany him to a wood at Polmuir, about two miles from town, on a birdnesting expedition. While they were going through the wood, a little separated, one of them called out, “A byke, a byke,[13] stickin’ on a tree, and made o’ paper!” A byke was regarded as a glorious capture, not only for the sake of the honey, but because of the fun the boys had in skelpin’ out the bees. Before they had quite reached the spot, one of the youngest boys yelled out, “Oh! I’m stung, I’m stung!” He took to his feet, and they all followed. After they had run some distance, and there being no appearance of a foe, a halt was made, and they stood still to consider the state of affairs. But all that could be ascertained was, that the byke was on a tree, that it was made of paper, and that it had lots of yellow bees about it.
This so excited Tom’s curiosity that he at once proposed to go back and take down the paper byke. His proposal was met with a decided refusal; and on his insisting upon going back, all the other boys ran away home. Nothing daunted, however, he went back to that part of the wood where the byke had been seen. He found it, and was taking it from the under side of the branch to which it was attached, when a bee lit upon one of his fingers, and stung it severely. The pain was greater than from any sting that he had ever had before. He drew back, and sucked and blew the wound alternately, in order to relieve the pain.
SECURES THE BYKE.
Then he thought, “What can I do next?” There the byke hung before him. It was still in his power to remove it,—if he could. To leave it was impossible. Although he had nothing to defend himself from the attacks of the bees, nor anything to put the byke into when he had taken it down, still he would not go without it. His bonnet could scarcely do. It was too little and too holey. His stockings would not do; because he wished to take the byke home whole. A thought struck him. There was his shirt! That would do. So he took off his jacket, and disrobed himself of his shirt. Approaching the tree very gently, though getting numerous stings by the way, he contrived to remove the byke from the branch to which it was hanging, and tucked it into his shirt. He tied the whole up into a sort of round knot, so as to keep all in that was in.