"I'm judging my lord, that we'll win the day, and that it will be a crownin' victory. I would like fine to see MacKay's army tumble in are great heap into the Garry, with their general on the top o' them. I'm expectin' to see ye ride into Edinburgh at the head o' the clans, and the Duke o' Gordon come oot frae the castle to greet you, as the king's commander-in-chief, and a' Scotland lyin' at yir mercy. But for ony sake be cautious, Maister John, and dinna mak a noise, it's juist temptin' Providence, an' the Lord forgie me for sayin' it, I never saw a hicht withoot a howe. I'm no wantin' you to be there afore the day is done. Dinna sing thae rantin' camp songs, and abune a' dinna whistle till a' things be settled; at ony rate, it's no canny."

"Was there ever such a solemn face and cautious-spoken fellow living as you, Jock Grimond, though I've seen you take your glass, and unless my ears played me false, sing a song, too, round the camp-fire in days past. But I know the superstition that is in you and all your breed of Lowland Scots. Whether ye be Covenanters or Cavaliers, ye are all tarred with the same stick. Do ye really think, Jock, that the Almighty sits watching us, like a poor, jealous, cankered Whig minister, and if a bit of good fortune comes our way and our hearts are lifted, that He's ready to strike for pure bad temper? But there's no use arguing with you, for you're set in your own opinions. But I'll tell you what to do--sing the dreariest Psalm ye can find to the longest Cameronian tune. That will keep things right, and ward off judgment, for the blood in my veins is dancing, Jock, and the day of my life has come."

Claverhouse went out from his room to confer with the chiefs and his officers about the plan of operation, "like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber and rejoicing as a strong man to run a race." Grimond, as he watched him go, shook his head and said to himself, "The last time I heard a Covenanting tune was at Drumclog, and it's no a cheerfu' remembrance. May God preserve him, for in John Graham is all our hope and a' my love."

Through the morning of the decisive day the omens continued favorable, and the sun still shone on Claverhouse's heart. As a rule, a war council of Highland chiefs was a babel and a battle, when their jealous pride and traditional rivalry rose to fever height. They were often more anxious to settle standing quarrels with one another than to join issue with the enemy; they would not draw a sword if their pride had in any way been touched, and battles were lost because a clan had been offended. Jacobite councils were also cursed by the self-seeking and insubordination of officers, who were not under the iron discipline of a regular army, and owing to the absence of the central authorities, with a king beyond the water, were apt to fight for their own hand. Dundee had known trouble, and had in his day required more self-restraint than nature had given him, and if there had been division among the chiefs that day, he would have fallen into despair; but he had never seen such harmony. They were of one mind that there could not be a ground more favorable than Killiecrankie, and that they should offer battle to MacKay before the day closed. They approved of the line of march which Dundee had laid out, and the chiefs, wonderful to say, raised no objection to the arrangement of the clans in the fighting line, even although the MacDonalds were placed on the left, which was not a situation that proud clan greatly fancied. The morning was still young when the Jacobite army left their camping ground in the valley north of Blair Castle, and, climbing the hillside, passed Lude, till they reached a ridge which ran down from the high country on their left to the narrow pass through which the Garry ran. Along this rising ground, with a plateau of open ground before them, fringed with wood, Dundee drew up his army, while below MacKay arranged his troops, whom he had hastily extricated from the dangerous and helpless confinement of the pass. During the day they faced one another, the Jacobites on their high ground, William's troops on the level ground below--two characteristic armies of Highlanders and Lowlanders, met to settle a quarrel older than James and William, and which would last, under different conditions and other names, centuries after the grass had grown on the battle-field of Killiecrankie and Dundee been laid to his last rest in the ancient kirkyard of Blair. Had Dundee considered only his own impetuous feelings, and given effect to the fire that was burning him, he would have instantly launched his force at MacKay. He was, however, determined that day, keen though he was, to run no needless risks nor to give any advantage to the enemy. The Highlanders were like hounds held in the leash, and it was a question of time when they must be let go. He would keep them if he could, till the sun had begun to set and its light was behind them and on the face of MacKay's army.




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