Both their hearts were filled with grief as they led out a beautiful cow, the last of their possessions. They had brought her up from a calf and had forborne to sell her because they could not bear to trust her in strange hands. But the evil spirit that had taken possession of William’s mind stifled all better feeling in him, and Caspar could resist him in nothing.
It was September and the long nights of the Scottish winter had began and the dark clouds were racing along before the rough wind and seemed to lose themselves in the waters of the Clyde, deep shadows filled the mountain clefts, and the damp turfy marshes and the sullen streams looked dark and forbidding. Will Hawk went in advance and Caspar followed, shuddering at his own audacity. Tears filled his dim eyes as often as he looked at the poor cow which went so trustfully to meet its death at the hand that had hitherto tended it. They reached at length the boggy pass, overgrown with moss and heather and strewn with large stones, and surrounded by a wild chain of mountains that lost themselves in mist and were seldom crossed by the foot of man. Over the boggy ground they went until they reached a great stone in the centre, from which a frightened eagle soared screaming.
The poor cow lowed mournfully as though she recognised the horror of the place and the fate that awaited her. Caspar turned away to hide his fast-flowing tears. He looked down the rocky way they had come up and from whence one could hear the moaning of the sea, and then looked up towards the mountain tops, hidden by a black cloud from which a dull murmuring came. When he again looked at Will he had already bound the poor cow to the stone and stood with axe raised ready to strike.
This was too much for poor Caspar. Wringing his hands, he fell upon his knees and entreated Will to desist from tempting Providence and to spare the life of the poor animal.
“Be it as you will,” replied the infatuated man; “but if you have your way you may as well kill me instead of the cow, for otherwise I shall surely die of hunger.”
It was in vain for Caspar to reason with him and to protest that in future he would work hard in order to provide a living for both of them, Will would not listen; he threw away the axe, but seizing a knife declared that as Caspar preferred the cow to him he would put an end to his wretched life.
Poor Caspar seized his hand and, snatching the knife, threw it away, then taking the axe he struck the cow such a tremendous blow that it fell dead at its master’s feet.
Caspar, assisted by Will, then hurriedly removed the hide, and Will allowed his friend to envelope him in it, although he seemed suddenly to have been stricken with terror at what he was doing.
The thunderstorm had increased in violence, and by the time Will was firmly fastened into the cow’s hide it was so dark that the two friends could no longer see each other and bade each other farewell in total darkness.
Left to himself Will endured an agony of fear and suspense; at length he would gladly have disentangled himself from the hide and rushed after Caspar, but he had been too firmly tied up to be able to free himself.