Norman Vallery Part 18

"There are no fish here, young gentleman, that have a fancy for your hook. We will go on to the end of the loch as I promised your sister, and try what we can do when we come back. Just sit down and let your line hang out if you like. There will be no harm in doing that, though the fish may not be the worse for it."

As Sandy began to move his oars, Norman was obliged to do as he was told. He looked very sulky and angry however, and would not even answer f.a.n.n.y when she spoke to him.

At last they reached the end of the loch. Here the mountain appeared to be cloven in two--a narrow channel running at the bottom of the gorge and uniting Loch Tulloch to another larger loch beyond. f.a.n.n.y was delighted, especially when Sandy poling the boat along proceeded onwards till the loch and bright suns.h.i.+ne being left behind, they found themselves in the gloom of the narrow gorge with lofty cliffs arching overhead, so that when they looked up, all they could see was a narrow strip of blue sky above them.

"We cannot go further," said Sandy, "for some big rocks stop the pa.s.sage, or I would take you a row through a larger loch than our ain.

If you stand up you can just see its blue waters s.h.i.+ning brightly at the head of the gorge."

"I want to go back and begin fis.h.i.+ng," cried Norman, in an angry tone, "we are wasting our time here."

"Yours is very valuable time, young gentleman, I doubt not," remarked Sandy, standing up in the bow of the boat, which having turned round, he began to pole out by the way they had entered.

They were soon again in the loch, which looked brighter and more beautiful than ever after the gloom of the gorge.

They had not gone far when Norman again insisted on stopping.

"You promised that you would let me fish on our way back, and I am sure there must be numbers about here," he said, throwing in his line.

"I should not wonder that there was no worm on your hook," observed Sandy, after they had waited some time. "I thought so," he continued, when Norman pulled up his line; "you canna expect ony fish to bite at a bare hook."

"But put on another worm," said Norman, who again tried for some time with equal want of success.

He was beginning to lose patience.

"Try deeper, young gentleman, fish swim further down than you think for," observed Sandy.

Norman did not know what he meant, and so Sandy slipped the float considerably higher up the line. Still no fish were to be tempted by his worm.

"I wish you would make them bite," Norman exclaimed petulantly. "I shall never catch anything with this stupid stick and string; Mr Maclean ought to have lent me one of his own rods, and then I should have caught some fish for him."

Sandy who would never allow anything to be said against the laird in his presence, felt very angry with Norman at this remark.

"You are very ungrateful, young gentleman, to say that," he remarked.

"I have let you fish long enough already, though if you were to try till nightfall, you would go back with your basket empty, so just draw in your line and pit quiet, it's time to be making our way back."

Norman looked somewhat surprised at this address.

"It's all the fault of the stupid stick," he exclaimed, and standing up he threw it away from him into the loch, and began dancing about to give vent to his anger and disappointment.

The old man rowed on, taking no notice of his foolish conduct. f.a.n.n.y, however, felt very much ashamed of him, and begged him to be quiet, but he only jumped about the more, declaring that he would complain to his mamma of the way Sandy had treated him.

After he had thus given vent to his feelings for some time, and had become more quiet, Sandy, who was really good-natured, and was sorry for his disappointment, promised that if he would be a good boy, he would take him out in the evening when the fish were more ready to bite, and show him how he himself caught them. This pacified him, and he sat quiet for some time. Still, as he thought how foolish he would look going back with his big basket and no fish in it, he began again to grow angry.

"It's all f.a.n.n.y's fault," he said to himself, "if she had not wanted to row about the lake, I should have had time to catch some fish."

Not knowing what was pa.s.sing in his mind, f.a.n.n.y, whose eyes fell on the basket, laughingly said to Norman.

"Shall I carry it home again, or will you and Sandy carry it between you on a stick, as you proposed?"

"Why do you say that?" exclaimed Norman, jumping up, "you are sneering at me; you will go and tell them I daresay that I threw my rod into the water."

"Indeed, I will not," said f.a.n.n.y, "I do not wish that any one should laugh at you."

"You are always laughing at me yourself," he answered, growing more angry. "But I will keep you in order, you are but a girl, and girls should always obey their brothers, that's what I think."

"You are but a little boy, though you think yourself a big one," said f.a.n.n.y, somewhat nettled at the way he spoke. "I wish to be kind to you, but I will not obey you, especially when you are angry, as you appear to be now, without any cause that I can see."

f.a.n.n.y was not aware how very angry Norman was.

Suddenly darting at her, he seized her hat and tore it off her head.

"Take care, young gentleman, what you are about," cried Sandy, putting in his oars and about to take hold of Norman, who with f.a.n.n.y's hat in his hand, had jumped up on the seat.

"Your hat shall go after my fis.h.i.+ng-rod," he cried out, and was about to throw it as far from him as he could into the water, when, in making the attempt, he lost his balance and overboard he fell.

For a moment the water which got into his mouth as he struggled and splashed about, prevented him from uttering any sound. When he came to the surface he quickly found his voice.

"Help! help! I am drowning!" he shrieked out. "I am drowning! I am drowning! Oh save me, save me!"

Sandy quickly leaning over the side of the boat caught hold of him, and dragged him in, though he continued to shriek l.u.s.tily, and struggle as if he was still in the water.

Poor f.a.n.n.y gave a cry of alarm.

"He is all safe, young lady, and the cold bath will cool his anger, and won't do him any harm," observed Sandy. "But we will just pull off his wet clothes, and I will wrap him in my jacket."

Norman who soon regained his senses, and became quieter when he found himself safe in the boat again objected to this, but Sandy insisted on doing what he proposed, and in spite of his struggles, took off his wet things, and made him put on his jacket, which he fastened round his waist with a handkerchief.

f.a.n.n.y who had recovered from her flight, could scarcely help laughing at the funny figure he presented, dressed in the coat with the sleeves turned half way back, so that he might have his hands free.

"You will keep quiet now, young gentleman, I hope, or you will be tumbling overboard again," said Sandy. "I don't know what the laird will say to you, when he hears how it happened."

Norman looked foolish, and made no reply.

Sandy had in the meantime picked up f.a.n.n.y's hat, and he now spread Norman's clothes out on the seats that they might dry in the sun.

Having done this, he pulled away as fast as he could towards the landing-place near the house.

As Norman's clothes were not nearly dry by the time they reached the sh.o.r.e, he packed them away in the basket, which was thus made useful, though in a different way to what Norman expected. Having secured the boat, and helped f.a.n.n.y out, Sandy took Norman up in his arms and marched away with him to the house.

The laird saw them coming, and of course inquired what had happened.

f.a.n.n.y would as usual, have tried to save her brother from being blamed, but Sandy told the whole story.

"You brought it upon yourself, by disobeying orders, Norman," observed Mr Maclean. "I will go in and tell your mamma and Mrs Leslie what has occurred, that they may not be alarmed, and the best thing you can do is to go to bed, and to stay there till your clothes are dried. You must not expect to go out in the boat again, as I see you cannot be trusted."

"It was all f.a.n.n.y's fault, she had no business to make me angry,"

answered Norman; "it is very hard that I should be punished because of her."

The laird made no answer, but telling a maid-servant who appeared at the moment to carry Master Vallery upstairs and put him to bed, he entered the drawing-room where the ladies were sitting.