THE PARKS AT Linmill atween the Clyde and the Clyde road were caaed the bottom parks, and the parks abune the Clyde road the tap parks. Linmill lay abune the Clyde road in a hallie like a saucer, wi the tap parks risin aa roun it. They were mairched on ae side by the lang bend ο the Lesmahagow road, as it rase frae the Clyde road to the heid ο the first brae, and if ye were gaun somewhaur upland oot ο Linmill ye took a pad that led frae the closs mou to a yett on the Lesmahagow road at the brae heid, to save ye gaun aa the wey roun by the Clyde road and the Lesmahagow road-end.
No faur frae this yett, on the Lesmahagow road, but on the ither side ο it, was Joe Dyer’s plantin. Joe Dyer was the fermer in Kilbank, and his parks mairched ahint Linville wi a park ο Muir the butcher’s. The plantin lay alang this mairch aa the wey to an orchard that lay atween Kilbank and Dublin, anither place like Linville, but nearer Kirkfieldbank. It was caaed Dublin, they said, because there were sae mony Irish in it.
The plantin was gey nerra, and fou ο lang thin fir trees, no at aa like the big beeches alang the Clyde road at Linmill, or in the Stanebyres Wuids. But there was a hedge alang aither side ο it, maistly ο thorn, but wi ash plants tae, and briers, and brambles, and hinniesuckle, and if ye were efter birds’ nests, or bees’ bykes, or the sicht o a rabbit, or a forkit stick for a sling, or juist a bit switch to keep the flees aff ye, it was a guid eneugh place.
For a lang time I was feart to gang near it, ein wi my cuisins, for Joe Dyer was an auld warrior, wi a gey savage dug, and he wadna hae thocht twice ο lettin it teir the back-side oot ο yer breeks, and haudin ye ower to the polis forbye, if he had fund ye trespassin, as he caaed it. But he had a son caaed young Joe, juist aboot the age ο my cuisin Lizzie, and as sune as they had left Kirkfieldbank schule they were seen trystin ane anither at the fute ο the Dublin orchard, or up the Lesmahagow road at the Kilbank road-end.
Efter that my cuisin Jockie seemed to think he had as muckle richt in Joe Dyer’s plantin as auld Joe himsell. He took Bob and me the haill length ο it ae day in braid day licht, as faur as the heid ο the Dublin orchard, and it wasna till we heard a dug barkin like mad at the back ο Kilbank, and saw auld Joe rinnin straucht for the plantin, yellin his heid aff, that he telt us to rin for it, and gaed aff himsell like a bullet.
Auld Joe had seen us, it seems, whan he was a wee thing awa frae the hoose and he had thocht he could catch us gin he didna waste time rinnin back to lowse his dug. It was a guid thing he didna, or the dug wad hae won up on us in nae time, for it was hard to rin at ony speed in the plantin, wi sae mony brambles aboot, ready to trip ye. But the dug had to bide on its chain, barkin its heid aff, while auld Joe ran to the plantin to try to catch us. I dout if he won near eneugh to see wha we were, for we heard nae mair ο the maitter. Jockie said he had gane short in the braith.
Frae that day on, though Jockie seemed as gallus in his mainner, and took us back to the plantin time and again, he neir gaed as faur as the orchard, and I was gey relieved.
Then, ae simmer day, whan we were lookin for nests and finnin maist ο them tuim, for the scuddies had feathert and learnt to flee, Bob peyntit up to the heid ο a lang thin fir, and shair eneugh, there was a nest, or if no a nest something gey like it.
We lookit up, wonerin what kind ο nest it could be, when aa at ance Jockie gied a shout.
‘Look!’ he said.
He was peyntin up to anither tree, and there was a wee riddish broun beast wi a bushie tail, sclimmin the trunk and syne rinnin oot on a brainch.
‘It’s a squirrell,’ said Jockie.
It ran oot on the brainch till it began to bend, syne lowpit in the air, and grippit a brainch ο the tree wi the nest in it, syne swung on that till it steadied a wee, and syne ran alang it and up to the nest.
‘Sclim up the tree, Jockie,’ said Bob, ‘and frichten it oot again. I didna see it richt.’
‘Ay, Jockie,’ said I. ‘Sclim up and let’s see it again.’
‘It’ll mebbe hae young anes,’ said Bob. ‘I wad like to see them tae. Ye could fetch ane ο them doun.’
‘It’s no a very thick tree,’ said Jockie. ‘It wad bend wi my wecht. It wadna be safe.’
‘Ye’re shairly no feart,’ said Bob.
‘Try it yersell,’ said Jockie. ‘You’re a lot lichter than me.’
‘If I was your age I wadna be feart,’ said Bob.
Jockie stude for a while lookin gey ill at ease.
‘Come on, Jockie,’ said Bob. ‘I want to see it again.’
‘Ay, Jockie,’ said Ι. ‘I haurdly saw it aither, and I haena seen ane afore. I wad like to hae a richt guid look at it.’
Jockie gaed to the faur hedge and had a look at Kilbank.
‘Keep yer een skinned for auld Joe Dyer, then,’ he said.
We promised, and Jockie stertit sclimmin the tree, and he made sic a noise wi aa the brainches he brak that I was shair Joe’s dug wad hear him, but though I keepit my een weill skinned I saw naething stir aboot Kilbank at aa.
Jockie rase heicher and heicher up the tree, and shair eneugh it did stert to bend, and I began to think hou terrible it wad be if he fell and brak his neck; and whiles he bade still in ae place for a gey while, and it seemed he was beginnin to feel feart, but Bob coaxed him on, and in the end he won up to the nest.
We waitit wi oor hairts thumpin to hear what he wad fin, but it was a while afore he said ocht. Then he shoutit doun that there was a hole into it.
‘Pit yer haund in,’ said Bob.
‘It micht bite me,’ said Jockie.
‘Pou yer guernsey sleeve doun ower yer neive, and haud it wi yer fingers.’
It was what we aye did whan we wantit to feel the eggs ablow a clockin hen, to see if they were cleckin.
Jockie poued his sleeve doun ower his neive, and pusht it into the nest.
‘Can ye feel onything?’ said Bob.
‘Ay,’ said Jockie. ‘I think there are young anes.’
‘Fetch ane ο them doun,’ said Bob.
‘I’m no shair if it’s young anes. It micht be the auld ane.’
‘Feel it and see.’
‘Nae fear,’ said Jockie. ‘I’m comin doun.’
Bob and I were fair taen aback. And aa the time Jockie was sclimmin doun the tree Bob yokit on at him.
‘Ye micht hae brocht us ane doun. If ye thocht the auld ane was there ye suld hae poued it oot. Dinna come doun again, Jockie. I wantit to see ane.’
‘Haud yer tongue or Joe Dyer’ll hear ye,’ said Jockie. ‘Rab, ye haena been keepin watch for me.’
I ran to the hedge, but aa was still clear, and I gaed back to the fute ο the fir and stertit priggin at Jockie.
‘I wantit to see a young squirrel tae, Jockie. What wey did ye no bring ane doun? G’on Jockie. Sclim up again and bring ane doun.’
‘Come on hame,’ he said.
But we wadna leave the tree, and I think he was fain himsell to fin oot juist what was in that nest, for efter a while he had anither look up at it. Syne his een traivelled doun the fir trunk.
‘It’s no a thick tree,’ he said. ‘It wadna tak that lang to saw it doun.’
‘Joe Dyer wad kill ye,’ said Bob.
‘Ye wad hae to keep a guid look oot. Better than ye keepit the last time.’
‘Whaur wad ye fin a saw?’ said Bob.
‘The big cross-cut frae Linmill wad gang through that fir in five meenits.’
‘It wad mak a noise, though,’ said Bob. ‘They wad hear it as faur as Kirkfieldbank.’
‘Havers,’ said Jockie. ‘They wadna hear it even at Kilbank. The wind’s blawin this wey awa frae it. Bide here the pair ο ye, and keep yer een skinned, and I’ll rin doun to Linmill for the saw.’
Efter Jockie had gane we lookit up at the nest for a while, syne gaed to the hedge and lookit oot at Kilbank. Aa at ance I saw auld Joe Dyer, wi his dug at his heel, makin his wey awa up the cairt track ahint Kilbank to the yett on the back road that led to the smiddy.
‘Look, Bob,’ I said, ‘we’ll be safe nou if we watch the smiddy road. He maun come that wey back.’
‘I wish Jockie wad hurry,’ said Bob.
He took a lang time comin back, and we were beginnin to think he had gien us baith up, and the nest tae, whan he creepit up at oor backs and gied a bowf. We lowpit as if we had been shot, and Jockie gied a lauch.
‘A queer-like watch you twa keep. Auld Joe could hae haen ye baith wi nae bother.’
‘But we hae been keepin watch,’ said Bob, ‘and we ken whaur he is. He’s awa up the brae on to the smiddy road, and he canna come back withoot us seein him.’
‘Guid,’ said Jockie. ‘You tak the ither end ο the saw. You keep watch, Rab, and if ye dinna keep yer een skinned, and we’re nabbit, it’s the jeyl for us aa. You tae, mind. Come on, Bob. We’ll hae to be quick.’
I gaed to the hedge and watchit the brae ahint Kilbank, and the yett at the heid ο it, till I could gey nearly see them dooble. And aa the time the saw was gaun its dinger, makin a noise ye wad hae thocht they could hear on ilka ferm atween Lanark and Lesmahagow.
Mind ye, they had twa-three rests, and I could hear Jockie whiles tellin Bob to draw the saw and no push it, but in the end they maun hae won faur eneugh through, for there was a lood crack, and Jockie cried ‘Rin!’.
I gat sic a fricht I hadna time to think, and juist cooried whaur I was, waitin for the tree to land on tap ο me. But it didna. There was a crash, and syne anither, and whan I lookit roun the tree was leanin ower against twa ithers, wi the nest no that faur frae the grun.
‘Can ye see onyane, Rab?’ said Jockie.
‘Na,’ I said, efter lookin oot again.
‘Watch weill, then,’ said Jockie, ‘till we pou the nest doun.’
I watchit for a wee while, and saw naething, syne couldna keep my curiosity ony langer, and turnt roun to see what the ither twa were daein wi the nest.
Jockie had poued the heid ο the tree clear ο the twa ithers, and the nest was juist aboot level wi his heid. He pat his haund in it.
‘There’s naething in it,’ he said.
‘Let me see,’ said Bob, and pat his haund in.
‘It’s tuim,’ he said. ‘There were nae young anes in it at aa. Ye were a leear.’
‘I wasna,’ said Jockie. ‘There was something warm and saft in it whan I pat my haund in up the tree. If it wasna young anes it was the auld ane, and she maun hae left the nest whan I gaed for the saw; and you twa were supposed to be watchin it, and didna see it. A bonnie pair ο watchers you are. Aa that wark for naething.’
‘It was Joe Dyer we were watchin for, Jockie,’ I said, ‘And we saw him, and watchit him oot ο sicht.’
‘There were twa ο ye. Ane ο ye could hae watchit the nest.’
‘It wasna the nest ye telt us to watch,’ said Bob, ‘and onywey, the auld ane could hae left whan we were sawin doun the tree, for we werena watchin it then. But ye did say there were young anes. Ye can say what ye like.’
‘I wad sweir there were young anes,’ said Jockie, ‘and I tell ye what. An auld squirrel can cairry young anes in her mou, like a cat wi kittlins. She wad cairry them awa whan we stertit sawin the tree, and she felt it trummlin. Ye’re quite richt, Bob. We werena watchin.’
We lookit aa ower the trees for the young squirrels, but we fand naething, no even the auld squirrel itsell.
‘I dinna believe there were ony young anes,’ said Bob. ‘Ye’re a leear, Jockie.’
‘We’d better win back to Linmill wi that saw,’ said Jockie, ‘and mind, baith ο ye, no a word ο this day’s wark to a sowl. We wad be landit in jeyl for it.’
It wasna till then that I began to feel like a criminal. Afore that I had been ower keen to see the young squirrels. I had anither look at the yett on the smiddy road, and syne followed my cuisins wishin I had neir seen aither ο them. Jockie was a bad ane, I had nae dout. I suld hae keepit oot ο his wey.
We hid in the hedge by the Lesmahagow road, till Jockie had haen a guid look up and doun it, syne we slippit across to the Linmill yett, and had a look through it, to mak shair there was naebody in the tap parks, or aboot the closs mou.
We were luckie. Aa the wark was in the bottom parks that day, and we saw Daft Sanny makin for the waal yett on the Clyde road wi twa pails, and kent he was gaun for a raik ο watter. We had time to win doun to the auld byre, whaur the saw was keepit, afore he won back.
Whan my cuisins had left for Linville, and I gaed in for my tea, and my grannie askit whaur I had been, I telt her a lee.
‘I was up in Johnnie Moorcraft’s park.’
‘I hope ye didna gang near that shed ο his. It’s fou ο medicines he keeps for his sheep. They wad pousin ye.’
’I was doun at the fute ο the park, at the burn.’
‘I’m gled ye didna faa in.’
I felt gey bad aboot tellin thae lees, but I was to feel a lot waur afore aa was ower, for twa-three days later, whan I had gey near forgotten the squirrel’s nest athegither, my grandfaither said at the table, whan we were sittin doun for oor supper, that a tree had been cut doun in Joe Dyer’s plantin.
‘Ye mean withoot his leave?’ said my grannie.
‘Ay.’
‘Wha wad dae that?’
‘Ye wad woner. It daesna mak sense, for they didna tak it awa. Mind ye, they mebbe ettlet to tak it, but heard someane comin afore they could trim it.’
‘Did Joe hear them at it, then?’
‘He hasna said sae.’
‘They mebbe ettle to gang back for it yet.’
‘They’ll be catchit, then, for he’s telt the polis.’
I gey near brocht up my supper. I felt terrible, thinkin ο what my mither wad say if I was taen awa to the jeyl. Or my faither, for that maitter, or my grannie or grandfaither themsells. What a disgrace!
‘Has he nae idea wha did it at aa?’ said my grannie.
‘He thinks it was mebbe Davie Speedy. Davie’s poached that plantin for years, and Joe fair hates him. But I canna see Davie bein daft eneugh to cut doun a tree.’
‘I wadna pit it past him,’ said my grannie. ‘He’s been a neir-dae-weill aa his days.’
‘But what guid wad that tree dae Davie Speedy? If he wantit it for timmer, it’s the wrang time ο the year. And he can get better firewuid faur nearer hame, doun at Clyde, wi naebody to stop him.’
‘But wha else could hae dune it?’
‘Heaven alane kens, but I hope it wasna Davie Speedy, or it’s the jeyl for him. He’s been catchit ower aften wi rabbits.’
For days I gaed aboot wonerin what I wad dae if the polis blamed Davie Speedy. It wadna be fair to let a man gang to jeyl for something he hadna dune, and Jockie and Bob wad hate me if I telt wha did it, and it wad be terrible to hae to gang to jeyl ane’s sell.
I keepit hopin I wad meet Jockie and Bob, to see hou they felt aboot it, but they lay low for weeks.
In the end naething happened, and the very neist simmer, whan we had stertit to gang aboot the plantin again, I saw the tree still lyin whaur it had landit. It was beginnin to rot. Jockie said its loss wad dae the plantin nae hairm. The trees were ower close, he said, and needit thinnin oot.
But Davie Speedy micht hae gane to jeyl for it.