It was the new Earl of Douglas, James the Gross, on his way to visit
the camp of his sons. As he approached the sentries who stood on guard
upon the broomy braes betwixt Merchiston and Bruntsfield, he was
challenged in a fierce southland shout by one of the Carsphairn levies
who knew him not.
"Stand back there, fat loon, gin ye wantna a quarrel shot intil that
swagging tallow-bag ye ca' your wame!"
"Out of my way, hill varlet!" cried the man on horseback.
But the Carsphairn man stood with his cross-bow pointed straight at the
leader of the cavalcade, crying at the same time in a loud,
far-carrying voice over his shoulder, "Here awa', Anthon--here awa',
Bob! Come and help me to argue wi' this fat rogue."
Several other hillmen came hurrying up, and the little company of
riders was brought to a standstill. Then ensued this colloquy.
"Who are you that dare stop my way?" demanded the Earl.
"Wha may ye be that comes shuggy-shooin' oot o' the bluidy city o'
Edinburgh intil oor camp," retorted him of Carsphairn, "sitting your
beast for all the warld like a lump o' potted-head whammelled oot o' a
bowl?"
"I am the Earl of Douglas.
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