Edward’s first thought was shelter! But where could he find it? Not a house was to be seen; not a wall, not a tree, not a bush. He could not find even a hole in a sandbank. There was nothing that he could see around him but a dreary, bleak, widespread moor. Nevertheless he set off, running as fast as he could, in the hope of at length reaching some friendly haven. After having run a long time amidst thunder and lightning, through water, moss, and heather, he stopped for a moment to consider where he was running. There was still no sign of a house, or hut, or shealing. The place where he stood was crossed by numerous paths, but he knew just as much of the one path as he did about the other. The country round him was one wide expanse of moorland. There was nothing before him but moor, moor, moor! He saw no object that could serve to guide him. He merely saw the outlines of the nearest hills faintly visible through the watery haze; but he did not recognise them. He began to feel himself lost on a lonesome moor.
He was now at his wits’ end. Having been for some time without food, he was now becoming faint. And yet he could not remain where he was. He again began to run. The sky was now almost as black as night, and the sheets of rain were falling as heavily as before. Only the vivid flashes of lightning enabled him to trace the direction in which he was going. He plunged into bog after bog; extricated himself; and then ran for life. Sometimes he came to a likely track and followed it; but it led to nothing,—only to a succession of tracks which led off in various directions across the moor. At last he ran straight forward, without paying any regard to tracks. By continuing in this course he eventually came to a road,—a gladsome sight, because it must lead to some dwelling or other. But which way should he go? He knew nothing of the direction of the road, for he had altogether lost his reckoning, and every landmark was invisible.
REACHES A HAVEN.
After a few moments’ consideration he bethought him of the direction in which Huntly might possibly lie; and as that town was his intended destination, he faced about, as he thought, in that direction, and commenced running again at full speed. After having run for about a mile, he came in sight of his destined haven,—a house. It stood on a slight elevation, with its back to the road, and was surrounded by a turf-and-stone wall. Collecting his remaining strength he ran up the slope, cleared the dyke at a bound, and rushed into the house without further ceremony.
He found two little maidens inside, who looked rather frightened at his sudden appearance. And no wonder! He must have looked more like a Lunatic than a Naturalist. Being completely exhausted, he threw himself right down on a seat without speaking a single word. When he recovered his breath, he asked pardon of the little damsels for running in so unceremoniously; “he had been overtaken by the storm.” He asked them if he might be allowed to rest there until the storm ceased?
“I dinna ken,” said one of the girls, “oor mither’s nae in. She’s oot breakin’ sticks; but,” she added, “I daresay ye may.”
There was a good fire of sods and peats on the floor. Edward went towards it, with his dripping clothes, to dry himself. He now began to look at his belongings. He first took off his hat, which was the hiding-place for many of his treasures. He found that the bundles of rare moss which he had picked up on the moor, and also the flies which he had pinned into the crown of his hat, were all right. His hat was usually two-storied; we wish we could have given a section of it. The lower part contained his head, and the other, above it, separated by a thin piece of board, contained mosses, birds’ eggs, butterflies, insects, and such like.
HIS WALLETS EMPTIED.
He next proceeded to take off some of his wallets. But, just as he had begun to remove them, he heard the girls behind him twittering and giggling. Turning round, he saw one of them pointing to his back, and trying to suppress her mirth. He could not imagine the reason. Another, and yet another stifled laugh! On his looking round again, they rushed out of the room; and then he heard them exploding with laughter. The cause of their merriment was this. The storm of rain had soaked Edward to the skin. Every pocket and wallet was full of chip-boxes and water. The glue of the boxes had melted; the ants, worms, slugs, spiders, caterpillars, and such like, had all escaped, and were mixed up in a confused mass. They shortly began to creep out of the innumerable pockets in which they had been contained. It was because the girls had seen the mixture of half-drowned spiders, beetles, ants, and caterpillars, creeping up the strange man’s back, that they rushed from the place, and laughed their full out of doors.
A TERRIBLE WOMAN.