Big Game - A Story for Girls

"Cleverness!" he repeated slowly. "It's a poor word! There's no depth

in it. When a man is called clever, it means, I think, more an ability

to display a superficial knowledge than any real, stored-up wisdom. It

may even be a double-edged compliment!"

"Scored!" cried the Chieftain gaily, as he waved his stick in the air,

and led the way forward with a jaunty tread. "Proposed, seconded, and

carried that cleverness is a delusion to be sedulously avoided! Just

what I always said. I've known clever people in my day--squillions of

them, and, my hat! how stupid they were! That little lass dabbling in

the lake is wiser than the whole crowd." He pointed to a fair-haired

child wading by the side of the tarn. "The spirit of childhood--that's

what we want! the spirit of joy in present blessings, and untroubled

trust for the future. That little lass has a life of hardship and toil

ahead--but what does she care? The sun shines to-day, and the funny wee

mannie fra the inn is going to gie her a bawbee for goodies. It's a bad

habit which he has fallen into; a shocking bad habit, but he canna cure

himself of it." He threw a penny to the smiling, expectant child, then

turning sharply to the left, led the way across the low-lying ground

towards the base of the nearest hill.

Margot noticed that, as he went, he turned from time to time quick,

scrutinising glances at Ron's face, as though trying to satisfy a doubt,

and classify him in his own mind. Evidently the lad's serious, somewhat

pedantic manner of replying had invested him with a new interest, but

when he spoke again it was only in reference to the afternoon's

expedition itself.

"I am not going to take you far," he announced. "I object to walking,

on principle. What I maintain is, that we were never intended to walk!

If we had been, we should have had four legs, instead of two. I never

walk if I can possibly induce something else to carry me. And climbing

is another mistake. What is it that one admires about mountains? Their

height and grandeur! Very well, then, where is the point of vantage

from which to view them? The base, of course. Climb up to the top, and

you lose the whole effect, to say nothing of chucking away your valuable

breath. See that little path winding up the slope? That leads to the

moors, and when you are once on the moors you can walk about on the

level all day long, if you are so disposed, and the air goes to the head

of even a lazy old fellow like myself, and makes me quite gay and

frisky. You two youngsters can go on ahead and engage in light

conversation, while I puff along in the rear. At my age and bulk even

the most witty conversation palls when climbing a hillside. When you

get to the end of the footpath sit down and wait till I arrive, and take

no notice of me till I get my wind. Then we'll start fair. Off with

you!"