"Can you not see it's a harrier--a hen harrier?" I said, as I
stretched out the large and beautiful wings of gray-blue feathers
and proceeded to bind the bird's feet with a string.
"The very same that Thora spoke of, I'll be bound!" Tom exclaimed
with satisfaction, as he evidently thought of his sister's secret
of the nest on the Black Craigs.
"What'll we do with it?" asked Hercus. "Is it good for eating?"
"Nonsense, Willie!" said I. "Surely we've birds in plenty without
eating hawks! Let's give it to the dominie."
"Ay, let's give it to the dominie," chimed in Robbie Rosson, always
ready to agree with whatever I proposed.
"The dominie! What for would you give it to the dominie?" objected
Kinlay. "It's my bird. I first saw it."
"Your bird! your bird, indeed!" exclaimed Hercus, putting his hands
in his pockets and assuming an attitude of indignant surprise. "Is
it the man who first sees the whale that has the blubber? No, no,
Ericson's dog caught the bird. Let Hal do as he likes with his
own."
I have no doubt that Tom coveted the dead falcon in order to
persuade his sister that he had discovered her harrier's nest. When
we agreed to keep the bird for the schoolmaster, he accordingly
grew gloomy, and the rest of the journey to Skaill was accomplished
without his joining in the merry talk, of which there was no lack,
you may be sure.
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