looking for him. He felt himself out of condition, very wet and
very warm, but he attained a creditable pace, for he struck a road
which had been used by manure-carts collecting seaweed. There were
faint marks on it, which he took to be the wheels of Dougal's
"machine" carrying the provision-box. Yes. On a patch of gravel
there was a double set of tracks, which showed how it had returned
to Mrs. Sempill. He was exposed to the full force of the wind,
and the strenuousness of his bodily exertions kept his fears quiescent,
till the cliffs on his left sunk suddenly and the valley of the Laver
lay before him.

A small figure rose from the shelter of a boulder, the warrior who
bore the name of Old Bill. He saluted gravely.

"Ye're just in time. The water has rose three inches since
I've been here. Ye'd better strip."

Dickson removed his boots and socks. "Breeks too," commanded
the boy; "there's deep holes ayont thae stanes."

Dickson obeyed, feeling very chilly, and rather improper.
"Now follow me," said the guide. The next moment he was stepping
delicately on very sharp pebbles, holding on to the end of the
scout's pole, while an icy stream ran to his knees.

The Laver as it reaches the sea broadens out to the width of
fifty or sixty yards and tumbles over little shelves of rock to
meet the waves. Usually it is shallow, but now it was swollen to
an average depth of a foot or more, and there were deeper pockets.
Dickson made the passage slowly and miserably, sometimes crying out