Ian approached faster. What was his amazement at finding the gray rock to be his own Betty! It was his Betty, thin and ragged, and stumbling along on her front knees, too weak to raise her feet. Poor little beast!
She was nearly dead. As Ian raised her up, he realized that he had found her just in time. The creature seemed to know the boy, for she nestled down in his arms as of yore. In spite of her suffering, she seemed perfectly happy, now that her Ian was found.
Spring! Each day found an eager, watchful boy, a happy, sweet-faced sheep dog, and a large fleecy lamb standing on the Rob Roy Brig. They were awaiting in glad anticipation a visitor, who was expected and whose music would soon reach the happy ears of a future piper.
Ian Craig had never allowed his Betty to roam after that frightful episode. She had been kept in a little corral, which Ian built for her. When he came home from school, he took her with him to the brig. He fastened her to a massive rock, while he awaited the return of Sandy.
[Illustration: BETTY AWAITS SANDY'S RETURN]
Betty was now almost as fat and big as the other sheep. She was a credit to the boy's good care. So proud of her was Ian that he often tied a lovely tartan ribbon about her neck. He combed her wool tenderly each day before he started off for the brig.
Day after day, the two waited. Meanwhile, Roy looked on with kindly eyes, although he did not understand it all. Of course, Betty was equally ignorant of why she was made to pose with a floppy bow around her neck, tied to an annoying rock. But she was content, for Ian stayed beside her.
Sometimes as Ian watched and waited, he thought he heard the bagpipes in the distance. And as he heard, his heart beat faster. The moment of bliss when he could claim his reward, seemed to be upon him.
Then he often looked at Betty, and a qualm seized him. How could he part with the lamb? He had been through trouble and sorrow for the little animal. He had lived many happy hours by her side. It was as though she had become his own. The thought of parting from her was like a stab. Then, too, Betty loved him.
At these times, the poor little boy would knit his brow and ponder upon the strangeness of life.
Then he thought of the pipers and the tale of Dunblane, where the stalwart lads marched and played. He thought of the glorious piper bands marching in the big towns. The thought made him brighten and jump from the brig and scan the country for a sign of Sandy.