The following day Harry received orders from General Leslie, who commanded the royal forces, to march down toward the border, accompanied by two regiments of horse.  He was to devastate the country and to fall back gradually before Cromwell’s advance, the cavalry harassing him closely, but avoiding any serious conflict with the Roundhead horse.  The whole party were under the command of Colonel Macleod.

“I am heartily glad to be on the move, Jacob,” Harry said, on the evening before starting.  “It is not pleasant to know that one is in constant danger of being attacked whenever one goes abroad.  Once away from Edinburgh one may hope to be beyond the power of Argyll.”

“I would not be too sure of that,” Donald Leslie said.  “A hound on the track of a deer is not more sure or untiring than is Argyll when he hunts down a foe.  Be warned by me, and never relax a precaution so long as you are on Scottish ground.  There are men who whisper that even now, when he stands by the side of the king, Argyll is in communication with Cromwell.  Trust me, if he can do you an ill turn, he will.”

Upon the following morning the detachment marched, with flags flying and drums beating, and the king himself rode down to see them depart.  Argyll was with him, and the king, as if in bravado of the formidable earl, waved his hand to Harry, and said:  “Good-by, my grave colonel.  Take care of yourself, and do not spare my enemies as you spared my friend.”

Harry doffed his plumed hat, and rode on at the head of his regiment.  The force marched rapidly, for it was known that Cromwell was within a few days of Berwick.  So fast did they travel that in three days they were near the border.  Then they began the work which they had been ordered to carry out.  Every head of cattle was driven up the country, and the inhabitants were ordered to load as much of their stores of grain in wagons as these would hold, and to destroy the rest.  The force under Colonel Macleod saw that these orders were carried out, and when, on the 14th of July, Cromwell crossed the Tweed, he found the whole country bare of all provision for his troops.  In vain his cavalry made forays to a distance from the coast.  Harry’s foot opposed them at every defensible point, while the cavalry hung upon their skirts.  In vain the Roundheads tried to charge by them.  The Scotch cavalry, in obedience to orders, avoided a contest, and day after day Cromwell’s troopers had to return empty handed, losing many of their men by the fire of Harry’s infantry.  Thus the army of Cromwell was obliged to advance slowly upon the line of coast, drawing their supplies wholly from the fleet which accompanied it.

One evening Colonel Macleod rode up to the cottage where Harry was quartered for the night.

“I am going to beat up Oliver’s camp to-night,” he said.  “Do you cover the retreat with your men at the ford of the river.  If I can get for five minutes in his camp I will read the Roundheads a lesson, and maybe spike some of his cannon.  If I could catch Cromwell himself it would be as good as a great victory.”