But now and then wanderers would come to Half Town, through the gloomy coves, under the tall trees. There were packmen with tales of the out-world. There were broken men flying from rope or hatchet. And once on a day of days came two pipers--Gilian, of Clan Lachlan of Strathlachlan, and Rory Ban, of the Macnaghtons of Dundarave.
They had seen Half Town from the sea--smoking to the clear air on the hillside; and through the weary woods they came, and the dead quiet of them, and they stood on the edge of the fir-belt.
Before them was what might be a township in a dream, and to be seen at the one look, for it stood on the rising hill that goes back on Lochow.
The dogs barked, and out from the houses and in from the fields came the quiet clan to see who could be here. Biggest of all the men, one they named Coll, cried on the strangers to come forward; so out they went from the wood-edge, neither coy nor crouse, but the equal of friend or foe, and they passed the word of day.
"Hunting," they said, "in Easachosain, we found the roe come this way."
"If this way she came, she's at Duglas Water by now, so you may bide and eat. Few, indeed, come calling on us in Half Town; but whoever they are, here's the open door, and the horn spoon, and the stool by the fire."
He took them in and he fed them, nor asked their names nor calling, but when they had eaten well he said to Rory, "You have skill of the pipes; I know by the drum of your fingers on the horn spoon."
"I have tried them," said Rory, with a laugh, "a bit--a bit. My friend here is a player."
"Well, not what yoo might call the whole art," said Gilian, "but I can play--oh yes!I can play two or three ports."
"Well, maybe not, but--anyway, not all tunes; I allow you do 'Mackay's Banner' in a pretty style."
"Pipers," said Coll, with a quick eye to a coming quarrel, "I will take you to one of your own trade in this place--Paruig Dali, who is namely for music."
"It's a name that's new to me," said Rory, short and sharp, but up they rose and followed Big Coll.
He took them to a bothy behind the Half Town, a place with turf walls and never a window, where a blind man sat winding pirns for the weaver-folks.
"This," said Coll, showing the strangers in at the door, "is a piper of parts, or I'm no judge, and he has as rare a stand of great pipes as ever my eyes sat on."