Free The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter by Ian Todd

clocked wan ae them sniffing aroond a tree before lifting its leg and hivving a pish.  When he hidnae heard anything fur aboot hauf an hour, he made his move.  He trotted silently alang the path towards Inver Hoose, keeping tae the left ae it.  Jist tae the south ae Inver Hoose, he came across the two snares that he’d left at the edge ae the trees and the open space the night before.  He sat and waited, scanning the area fur any signs ae movement.  Efter twenty minutes, he felt mair sure ae himsel and so started tae crawl oot ae the trees oan his belly intae the open towards the snares.  When he peered o’er the lip ae a wee incline, he wis met by the sight ae two deid rabbits.  He pulled the pegs oot ae the ground wae the rabbits still caught in the snares.  Wance he crawled back intae the trees, he took the rabbits oot ae the nooses.  He tied them thegither wae the bit ae string that he’d taken wae him fur that purpose.  He stood up and hung them roond his neck before turning tae double back alang the track aboot fifty yards, then heid southwards tae where he’d entered Balblair Wood earlier, oot ae sight ae anywan driving alang the road.  He wis quite chuffed wae himsel.  No only hid he avoided a run-in wae the dugs, bit he’d a couple ae fat rabbits fur Whitey.
      “That’s stealing!” a voice suddenly said, sounding like the lash ae a whip cracking aff some poor basturts bare arse. 
      He jist aboot jumped oot ae his skin when he whirled roond and looked up.  A young lassie ae aboot his ain age, wae a bush ae fiery red hair, a face as white as snow and wae a strange accent, wis sitting astride a big white horse.  She wis wearing whit looked tae him tae be a white nightie.  The horse didnae hiv a saddle oan it and he noticed she wis in her bare feet.  He tried tae speak, bit nothing came oot as he stood there, rooted tae the spot.  He wis also trying, as hard as he could, no tae shite in they good running shorts ae his.
      “Who are you?” the thing oan the horse demanded.
      Silence.
      “Put those rabbits down this instant…now!”
      That hid been that.  He wisnae gonnae fuck aboot.  Being chased by dugs wis nothing tae this, he thought as he nearly decapitated himsel, plunging through the thicket tae his right before bouncing back up oan tae his feet and fucking aff as fast as they legs ae his wid carry him.   As soon as he thought he’d put enough distance between himsel and The Gardener’s Daughter, he hit the open ground between Balblair Wood and Rhelonie Wood like a rocket.  He decided tae take a chance and come oot ae the wood oan tae the road at Strathkyle Hoose’s lodge hoose.  Luck wis oan his side and he didnae come across any traffic as he ran alang the road, before shooting doon intae the croft hoose, throwing up jist before he entered.
      “Paul, Paul, what’s up, laddie?” Whitey squealed at him, wae her haun oan his shoulder and concern in her voice.
      “Aye, I told you to avoid Balblair Wood.  The dogs will get you sooner or later,” Innes scolded.
      “Och, Innes, hold your tongue.  Now Paul, will ye tell us what happened, laddie?”
      He telt them aboot hiding fae the dugs and how chuffed he wis wae the rabbits in the snares.  Innes wis lighting his pipe, blowing oot clouds ae blue smoke, trying tae get the tobacco tae take, wae wan eye shut and the other focussing oan the glowing red tobacco pot.
      “The gardener’s ghostly daughter, you say?”  Innes puffed, ogling him wae that wan eye.
      “Who else could it be?  Red fiery hair, face as white as the nightie she wis wearing, nae socks or shoes oan, sitting astride a big white horse withoot a saddle?  Whit dae youse think?”
      “Hmm…” Innes groaned, wan eye still shut, as Whitey watched them baith.
      “Could be a ghost or could be a holidaymaker,” Innes eventually came oot wae.
      “A holidaymaker?  Away ye go, Innes.  Now, why would a holidaymaker be wandering