Free By Loch and by Lin by Sorche Nic Leodhas Page A

lay. When he woke he was sorely amazed to find that his hands were bound with iron bands, and his legs weighted down with a hundredweight of chains.
    â€œWhere will I find a wee little lad who will work for me?” young Johnnie cried. “Where will I find a wee little lad who will work for me and carry a message to Auld Johnnie Mor, my uncle, at Rhynie at the foot of Benachie?”
    There was a wee little lad by Johnnie’s door, and he spoke up. “Here am I, a wee little lad,” said he. “And I will run on, to take a message to Auld Johnnie Mor, your uncle, at the foot of Benachie.”
    â€œYou will earn your meat and your fee,” said Lang Johnnie Mor. “Run on, my wee little lad. When you come to the brae where the grass grows green, throw off your shoes and speed away. And when you come where the streams run strong, bend your bow and leap over, or swim! When you come to Rhynie you’ll not need to call or seek about the town. You’ll know my uncle, Auld Johnnie, there, for he stands three feet above them all.”
    Then Johnnie said to the wee little lad, “Bid my uncle make haste lest they hang me high, and bid him bring along with him that stalwart body, Jock o’ Noth.”
    The wee little lad set his feet to the north, and on his errand he sped away. When he came to the brae where the grass grew green, he cast his shoes aside and ran on. When he came to the streams that flowed fast and deep, he bent his bow and leaped over or swam. And when he came to Rhynie at last, he had no need to go seeking through the town, or to call. He knew Auld Johnnie at first glance, for he stood three feet above them all.
    â€œWhat news?” Auld Johnnie asked. “What news, my wee little lad? I’ve never seen you here in Rhynie before.”
    â€œI bring you no news,” said the wee little lad. “But a message I bring to you, from your nephew, Lang Johnnie Mor. The king has put young Johnnie in chains, and he threatens to hang him high. Johnnie bids you haste to his aid, and to bring with you that stalwart body, Jock o’ Noth.”
    Benachie lies low in the dale, and the top of the Noth is high, but Jock o’ Noth on his mountaintop heard every word of Auld Johnnie’s call.
    â€œCome down! Come down! O Jock o’ Noth, come down in haste to me. My nephew, Lang Johnnie, needs us sore, so we must go to Lunnon town.”
    Then Jock o’ Noth came down from the hill and met with Auld Johnnie at the foot of Benachie, and these two mighty men together were an awesome grisly pair to see. Their heads peered down through the boughs of the trees, and their brows were three feet wide, and there was no less than three good yards across their shoulder bones.
    These two great bodies started forth. They ran o’er hill, they ran o’er dale, they ran o’er mountain high, and they came to the walls of Lunnon town at dawning of the third day. When they got there the city gates, with iron bars and iron bolts, were closed and all locked tight, and on a tower a trumpeter stood with his trumpet in his hand, ready to blow it and give the sign for Lang Johnnie Mor to be hanged. The keeper of the gates looked out to see who knocked so loud outside. Auld Johnnie asked, “What goes on inside that the drums beat with a mournful sound and church bells toll so solemnly?”
    â€œThere’s naught that goes on,” the gatekeeper said. “And naught that matters to you! Just a weighty Scot to straighten a rope, for Lang Johnnie Mor will be hanged today.”
    â€œOpen the gates!” Auld Johnnie cried. “Open the gates without delay!”
    The gatekeeper trembled, but grinned and said, “Kind sirs, I do not have the key.”
    â€œYou’ll open the gates,” Auld Johnnie said. “You’ll open them without delay, or here’s a body at my back who will open them for me!”
    â€œOpen the gates!” roared Jock o’