The body of poor Cruickshanks was found in the afternoon of next day, on the Haugh of Dandaleith, some four or five miles below. As it had ever been his uniform practice to wind up his watch at night, and as it was discovered to be nearly full wound when it was taken from his pocket, the fact of his having had self-possession enough to obey his usual custom, under circumstances so terrible, is as unquestionable as it is wonderful. It had stopped at a quarter of an hour past eleven o’clock, which would seem to fix that as the fatal moment when the tree was rent away; for when that happened, his struggles amidst the raging waves of the Spey must have been few and short.
When the men, who had so unsuccessfully attempted to save him, were talking over the matter, and arguing that no human help could have availed him,—
“I’m thinkin’ I could hae ta’en him out,” said a voice in the circle.
All eyes were turned towards the speaker, and a general expression of contempt followed; for it was a boy of the name of Rainey, a reputed idiot, from the foot of Benrinnes, who spoke.
“You!” cried a dozen voices at once; “what would you have done, you wise man?”
“I wud hae tied an empty anker-cask to the end o’ a lang, lang tow, an’ I wud hae floated it aff frae near aboot whaur the raft was ta’en first awa; an’ syne, ye see, as the stream teuk the raft till the tree, maybe she wud hae ta’en the cask there too; an’ if Charlie Cruickshanks had ance gotten a haud o’ this rope——”
He would have finished, but his auditors were gone: they had silently slunk away in different directions, one man alone having muttered, as he went, something about “wisdom coming out of the mouth of fools.”
CHARLIE GRAHAM, THE TINKER.
By George Penny.
The notorious Charlie Graham belonged to a gang of tinkers, who had for a long time travelled through the country, and whose headquarters were at Lochgelly, in Fife. They were to be found at all markets, selling their horn spoons, which was their ostensible occupation. But there was a great deal of business done in the pickpocket line, and other branches of the thieving art. About Charlie there were some remarkable traits of generosity. In the midst of all the crimes he committed, he was never known to hurt a poor man, but often out of his plunder helped those in a strait. His father was in the same line, and was long at the head of the gang; but being afterwards imprisoned for theft, housebreaking, &c., he was banished the county, banished Scotland, and publicly whipped. On one occasion he was banished, with certification that if he returned, he was to be publicly whipped the first market-day, and thereafter to be banished. Old Charlie was not long away when he returned, and was apprehended and conveyed to Perth jail. A vacancy having occurred in the office of executioner, the first market-day was allowed to pass without inflicting the sentence, upon which Charlie entered a protest, and was liberated. In various ways he eluded justice,—sometimes by breaking the prison, and sometimes for want of evidence. The last time he was brought in, he was met by an old acquaintance, who asked, “What is the matter now?” to which old Charlie replied, “Oh, just the auld thing, and nae proof;” which saying has since become a proverb. But this time they did find proof, and he was again publicly whipped, and sent out of the country. One of his daughters, Meg Graham, who had been bred from her infancy in the same way, was every now and then apprehended for some petty theft. Indeed, she was so often in jail, that she got twenty-eight dinners from old John Rutherford, the writer, who gave the prisoners in the jail a dinner every Christmas. Meg, in her young days, was reckoned one of the first beauties of the time; but she was a wild one. She had been whipped and pilloried, but still the root of the matter remained.