'Have then thy wish!'--He whistled shrill And he was answered from the hill;Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew.

Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows On right, on left,, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe;From shingles gray their lances start, The bracken bush sends forth the dart, The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand, And every tuft of broom gives life 'To plaided warrior armed for strife.

That whistle garrisoned the glen At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given.

Watching their leader's beck and will, All silent there they stood and still.

Like the loose crags whose threatening mass Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, As if an infant's touch could urge Their headlong passage down the verge, With step and weapon forward flung, Upon the mountain-side they hung.

The Mountaineer cast glance of pride Along Benledi's living side, Then fixed his eye and sable brow Full on Fitz-James: 'How say'st thou now?

These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true;

And, Saxon,--I am Roderick Dhu!'