Sir Ludar / A Story of the Days of the Great Queen Bess

by Talbot Baines Reed

So we tore through the water, letting fly at them as best we could while they stood reloading.

Ludar’s aim missed, for he had only his left hand. Mine was more lucky, since it knocked over the villain Laker just as he raised his gun for a second shot.

This saved us; for it gave us time to pull further beyond reach. So that when the next volley came, it pattered harmlessly in the waves around us.

This time we could not duck our heads, for our boat was already in the hurly-burly of the surf, and needed all our skill and all our strength to get her over that angry bar. More than once we were glad to fall back right side uppermost, and more than once we looked to see every timber we had fly asunder. But at last, between two lesser waves, we slipped over, taking in half a boat of water as we did so, but winning clear of the peril; and leaving our pursuers, who had waited to see us perish, to turn back sullenly to report their ill success to their master.

’Twas a far cry to Bonandonnye, which lay behind the Eastern headlands, some four leagues beyond Benmore. Nor durst we approach it the shortest way, because our men had heard that the coast was closely guarded by the English, who made short work of all suspected craft. So we were fain to hoist our sail and stand out to sea, rounding Raughlin on the far side, and running back on Cantire.

There, for a week and more, Ludar lay in a fever, shouting to be taken to his father, yet too weak to turn in his bed. Tenderly his clansmen nursed him (and me, for the matter of that, for I had wounds too), until at least we were both in better trim.

Meanwhile, one of the men had rowed across to the mainland, and come back with the news that Sorley Boy was deep in the woods of Glenshesk, behind the great mountain of Knocklayd, where he was rapidly bringing his forces to a head for a swoop on Dunluce. This news decided Ludar to tarry not a day longer. That very night, as the sun set, we embarked on our boat. It was the time of the autumn gales, and hard enough were we put to it to get safely across. For that very reason, perhaps, we were able to land unobserved by the careless watchmen on the coast, who never dreamed to look for a boat on such a night. Whereas, had they known more of the McDonnell oarsmen, they would have doubled their guard instead of going asleep.

I was glad to find that Ludar, having resolved on the journey, had strength enough to go through with it. Indeed, his step grew firmer every pace we took, and although his brow remained black, and he would, I think, have felled me to the ground had I mentioned the maiden’s name in his ear, yet on other matters his spirits revived.

’Twas a difficult journey from the little bay where we landed to Glenshesk; nor dare we make it in broad daylight. We took care to clad ourselves like herdsmen; yet even so, it would have been a risk to accost a stranger or enter a hut for shelter. For the O’Neills and the English among them had overawed the peasants; and although it was commonly believed the Turlogh would hold aloof in this quarrel, yet he had his own grudge against the McDonnells, and was not lightly to be run against. So we lay hid all day in the thick heather, and at night crossed rapidly at the back of Benmore, and plunged into the woods on the slopes of the dome-like Knocklayd. Ludar seemed to know his way by instinct. The McDonnell had told us where we should meet with a friendly clansman, who would take us to the chief, and had warned us what paths specially to avoid in crossing the mountain. His instructions served us well; and at daybreak we came upon the friendly hut just where we had expected, a little below the summit on the seaward side of the hill.

The man would by no means let us lie in his hut for fear of being seen, but showed us a deep cave in the hill-side, where we (and a score of men beside, had it been needful), might hide.