socket of his ruined left eye, and scratch at the puckered, stitched skin of his eyelid. It was something he always did when he was worried. Towards dusk Kaelin heard a faint sound, and the two of them found a fissure, where the ground had given way. Moving to it Jaim called the boy's name. He was answered by a cry for help.
'Are you injured, lad?'
'No. Please get me out.'
'Can you stand? Are your arms still strong?'
'Yes. Please come and get me.'
‘I’ll lower a rope to you. You must tie it round your waist.'
'I can't,' wailed the child. 'Come and get me.'
'I can climb down there,' whispered Kaelin.
'I know,' said Jaim, softly. 'Maybe you will have to. Sit tight now, and be quiet while I talk to the boy.' Jaim transferred his attention to the fissure. 'I know you are a brave lad. So listen to me now. Up here the stars are about to shine, and the air is sweet. Have you ever heard of the magic eye?'
'No,' replied the boy.
And Jaim had told him a wondrous tall tale. 'Now my magic eye can always tell a hero,' he finished. 'And you, my lad, are a hero. A lesser boy would have died in this fall. I am going to lower the rope now. Let me know when you can feel it.' Jaim uncoiled the rope and gently threaded it down the opening.
'I have it!'
'Put it round your waist. Nice and tight. Shout to me when you have done it.'
'Will you pull me up then?'
'I'm not a strong man, boy,' lied Jaim. 'You'll need to climb a little. I might be able to haul you to the first handhold.'
'I can't climb,' wailed the boy. 'It's dark and I'm not strong.'
'Well, we'll see,' said Jaim. 'Is the rope tight?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then you start to climb and I'll take in the slack.'
It took about twenty minutes for the boy to make the climb. When he at last emerged Jaim clapped him on the back and told him how proud he was of him. 'You're a fine lad,' he said.
After they had returned the boy to his home, and were returning to their own, Kaelin asked: 'Why did you torture him so? I could have climbed down there in a minute. And you are not weak at all.
You are the strongest man in the highlands.'
Jaim had paused in their walk. 'Ah, Kaelin, you have much to learn. There is no greater despair than to feel helpless. Had we merely pulled him out he would have carried that helplessness like a sack upon his shoulders. Any problem in his life would have seen him crying for help. We grow by doing, boy. We make ourselves men by our own actions. Yes, I helped him. But he climbed out. He took his own life in his own hands and he made a decision. It is a life lesson he learned today.
He will be stronger for it.'
Sitting now by the fire in Finbarr's ravaged cabin Kaelin began to sing an old song that Jaim had taught him many years ago.
'Lost by the roadside, happy in my hideaway,
Far from the troubles of when I was a runaway.
No-one can catch me, and not a man can match me.
I'm the cunning outlaw, all my troubles cast away.'
He finished the song, and then called out. 'I have some plum preserve here for you, my little friend. And the fire is warm.' Then he began to sing again.
Just when he was starting to believe he would have to fetch the boy he saw the little six-year-old step into the doorway. His blue nightshirt was stained with urine, and he was wearing his white hat, with the ear flaps hanging down. Kaelin reached out and lifted a jar of preserve. 'I think we should eat a little something, my friend,' he said, his voice soft and soothing. Feargol turned towards the ruined wall, and stood staring at the broken timbers.
'The bear is going to come back,' he said.
'If it does I'll kill it,' said Kaelin. ‘I’ll let no bear come close to my friend Feargol.'
'Did the bear eat Basson?'
'No.'
'But it ate my daddy,' said the child, beginning to tremble. Tears spilled to his face.
'You and I are going to Ironlatch Farm tomorrow,' said Kaelin. 'It will be an adventure. You'll come and live with me and Chara and little Jaim. We'll be glad to
'Are you injured, lad?'
'No. Please get me out.'
'Can you stand? Are your arms still strong?'
'Yes. Please come and get me.'
‘I’ll lower a rope to you. You must tie it round your waist.'
'I can't,' wailed the child. 'Come and get me.'
'I can climb down there,' whispered Kaelin.
'I know,' said Jaim, softly. 'Maybe you will have to. Sit tight now, and be quiet while I talk to the boy.' Jaim transferred his attention to the fissure. 'I know you are a brave lad. So listen to me now. Up here the stars are about to shine, and the air is sweet. Have you ever heard of the magic eye?'
'No,' replied the boy.
And Jaim had told him a wondrous tall tale. 'Now my magic eye can always tell a hero,' he finished. 'And you, my lad, are a hero. A lesser boy would have died in this fall. I am going to lower the rope now. Let me know when you can feel it.' Jaim uncoiled the rope and gently threaded it down the opening.
'I have it!'
'Put it round your waist. Nice and tight. Shout to me when you have done it.'
'Will you pull me up then?'
'I'm not a strong man, boy,' lied Jaim. 'You'll need to climb a little. I might be able to haul you to the first handhold.'
'I can't climb,' wailed the boy. 'It's dark and I'm not strong.'
'Well, we'll see,' said Jaim. 'Is the rope tight?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then you start to climb and I'll take in the slack.'
It took about twenty minutes for the boy to make the climb. When he at last emerged Jaim clapped him on the back and told him how proud he was of him. 'You're a fine lad,' he said.
After they had returned the boy to his home, and were returning to their own, Kaelin asked: 'Why did you torture him so? I could have climbed down there in a minute. And you are not weak at all.
You are the strongest man in the highlands.'
Jaim had paused in their walk. 'Ah, Kaelin, you have much to learn. There is no greater despair than to feel helpless. Had we merely pulled him out he would have carried that helplessness like a sack upon his shoulders. Any problem in his life would have seen him crying for help. We grow by doing, boy. We make ourselves men by our own actions. Yes, I helped him. But he climbed out. He took his own life in his own hands and he made a decision. It is a life lesson he learned today.
He will be stronger for it.'
Sitting now by the fire in Finbarr's ravaged cabin Kaelin began to sing an old song that Jaim had taught him many years ago.
'Lost by the roadside, happy in my hideaway,
Far from the troubles of when I was a runaway.
No-one can catch me, and not a man can match me.
I'm the cunning outlaw, all my troubles cast away.'
He finished the song, and then called out. 'I have some plum preserve here for you, my little friend. And the fire is warm.' Then he began to sing again.
Just when he was starting to believe he would have to fetch the boy he saw the little six-year-old step into the doorway. His blue nightshirt was stained with urine, and he was wearing his white hat, with the ear flaps hanging down. Kaelin reached out and lifted a jar of preserve. 'I think we should eat a little something, my friend,' he said, his voice soft and soothing. Feargol turned towards the ruined wall, and stood staring at the broken timbers.
'The bear is going to come back,' he said.
'If it does I'll kill it,' said Kaelin. ‘I’ll let no bear come close to my friend Feargol.'
'Did the bear eat Basson?'
'No.'
'But it ate my daddy,' said the child, beginning to tremble. Tears spilled to his face.
'You and I are going to Ironlatch Farm tomorrow,' said Kaelin. 'It will be an adventure. You'll come and live with me and Chara and little Jaim. We'll be glad to
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