Had you seen but these roads before they were made, You would have held up your hands and bless’d General Wade.

But, bad as the ordinary paths were, Montrose avoided them, and led his army, like a herd of wild deer, from mountain to mountain, and from forest to forest, where his enemies could learn nothing of his motions, while he acquired the most perfect knowledge respecting theirs from the friendly clans of Cameron and M’Donnell, whose mountainous districts he now traversed.  Strict orders had been given that Argyle’s advance should be watched, and that all intelligence respecting his motions should be communicated instantly to the General himself.

It was a moonlight night, and Montrose, worn out by the fatigues of the day, was laid down to sleep in a miserable shieling.  He had only slumbered two hours, when some one touched his shoulder.  He looked up, and, by the stately form and deep voice, easily recognised the Chief of the Camerons.

“I have news for you,” said that leader, “which is worth while to arise and listen to.”

“M’Ilduy [Mhich-Connel Dhu, the descendant of Black Donald.] can bring no other,” said Montrose, addressing the Chief by his patronymic title—­“are they good or bad?”

“As you may take them,” said the Chieftain.

“Are they certain?” demanded Montrose.

“Yes,” answered M’Ilduy, “or another messenger should have brought them.  Know that, tired with the task imposed upon me of accompanying that unhappy Dalgetty and his handful of horse, who detained me for hours on the march at the pace of a crippled badger, I made a stretch of four miles with six of my people in the direction of Inverlochy, and there met with Ian of Glenroy, who had been out for intelligence.  Argyle is moving upon Inverlochy with three thousand chosen men, commanded by the flower of the sons of Diarmid.—­These are my news—­they are certain—­it is for you to construe their purport.”

“Their purport must be good,” answered Montrose, readily and cheerfully; “the voice of M’Ilduy is ever pleasant in the ears of Montrose, and most pleasant when it speaks of some brave enterprise at hand—­What are our musters?”

He then called for light, and easily ascertained that a great part of his followers having, as usual, dispersed to secure their booty, he had not with him above twelve or fourteen hundred men.

“Not much above a third,” said Montrose, pausing, “of Argyle’s force, and Highlanders opposed to Highlanders.—­With the blessing of God upon the royal cause, I would not hesitate were the odds but one to two.”

“Then do not hesitate,” said Cameron; “for when your trumpets shall sound to attack M’Callum More, not a man of these glens will remain deaf to the summons.  Glengarry—­Keppoch—­I myself—­would destroy, with fire and sword, the wretch who should remain behind under any pretence whatsoever.  To-morrow, or the next day, shall be a day of battle to all who bear the name of M’Donnell or Cameron, whatever be the event.”