either from the red appearance of its soil, or from the fires which the ancient Druids, on May-day, kindled on its sum. mit. The whole of this wide district was traversed in its breadth and length, for many a tedious year, by the holy men who jeopardied their lives on the high places of the field, in support of that cause in which they had honestly embarked; and many a tale, if hills and glens could speak, might perchance be told of those devoted men, which the report of for. mer days has failed to echo to our times. David Dun, one of the fore-mentioned worthies, was related to Roger Dun, a noted Covenanter, who lived in the higher parts of Ayrshire, and of whom a few notices may here be given. Roger Dun was born in 1659. His father, James Dun, a worthy man, was farmer of Bennet or Benholt, in the parish of Dalmellington, and was, with others, exposed to no small trouble in those trying times. Roger, when he grew up, and was able to judge for himself, resolved to share the fortunes of the Covenanters. It was soon known that Roger Dun had allied himself to the obnoxious party, and therefore his ruin was determined on. A conventicle had been held at Craignew in Carsphairn, and Roger, with two of his brothers, attended the meeting. The report of this circumstance soon spread, and the dragoons were sent to apprehend all they could find returning from the place. They met the three brothers on their way home-Andrew and Allan were made prisoners, and carried back to Carsphairn; but what befell them is not known, for they were never more heard of. Roger, however, by a sudden and unexpected spring, eluded the grasp of the soldier who attempted to seize him; and bounding away, fled to a soft marshy place, into which the horsemen durst not venture, and made his escape. After this, Dun sought a retreat in Dunasken Glen, a place about two miles from Bennet. One morning, as he was returning home from his hiding-place, he encountered unexpectedly, a party of dragoons who were sent out in search of him. He was so near them that to attempt flight was in vain. In order, therefore, to avoid suspicion, he appeared to be as much at his ease as possible; and walking forward with an undaunted mien, he determined to accost the soldiers in a style that would tend to direct their attention away from himself. "I think I can guess your errand, gentlemen," addressing the troopers in a familiar manner, "I am thinking you are in search of Roger Dun, who is supposed to be in concealment somewhere in this quarter." "It is even so," replied the commander of the party," he is the very person we are in quest of." "Well," said Roger," though I hate the name of an informer, yet I think I could direct you to a place in which he is sometimes to be found. See you yon shepherd's hut afar in the waste; bear down directly upon it, and see what you can find." "You are an honest fellow, I opine," answered the leader;" and we will follow your advice." The party then proceeded onward at full speed, and Roger, with all expedition, betook himself to his hiding-place in the glen, which is said to have been beneath the projecting bank of a mountain streamlet. In this seclusion, where the hallowed voice of prayer often mingled with the soft murmuring of the silvery brook, he found a place of safety from man, and of communion with his God. On another occasion, when Roger had crept from his concealment, and had found his way unperceived to his father's house, he was surprised by the hasty arrival of a company of troopers before the door. He attempted to escape through an aperture in the gable of the house, but which, being partly closed up with rubbish, hindered him from making his way with the speed that was desirable. When the soldiers entered, Roger was gone, but they found a youth of sixteen years of age, who had not time to follow his friend; him they seized, and how he was disposed of none could tell, for he was never again seen in the country. Dun made his way through a morass, leaving his pursuers behind him, and got with all safety into his retreat in Glenasken. From the incessant harassings to which he was subjected, Roger Dun found it necessary to leave the district, and to retire to the lower parts of Galloway. When he was in the neighbourhood of Minigaff, residing in the house of a friend who was favourable to that cause in which he suffered hardship, he nearly lost his life by the hand of the enemy. The soldiers having made an attack on the house in which he lodged, two of its inmates were killed defending themselves; and Dun, after an ineffectual resistance, fied, and plunging into the waters of a neighbouring loch, swam under water, to a shallow place in the middle, where grew several shrubs and willows, at the side of which he emerged, while the soldiers shot into the lake at random. Owing to his immersion in the cold waters he caught a severe fever, which threatened to terminate his life, but from which he ultimately recovered. He lived till after the Revolution, and was at last killed at a place called Woodhead, by an individual who mistook him for another person whom he intended to murder; so that the worthy man, who had so often escaped the sword of the public persecutor, fell by the hand of the private assassin. The scene of the following anecdote lies in the neighbourhood of the native district of Roger Dun. Near the head of the Afton, which springs from the dark and misty mountains to the south of the village of New Cumnock, was a hidingplace among the brown heath, which was occasionally resorted to by the wanderers of the covenant. The entrance to this retreat is said to have been along one of those deep ruts in the moss which were scooped out by the torrents from the hills, which frequently descend with great impetuosity after the discharge of a heavy thunder-cloud. Some of these trenches are deep and narrow, and the opening at the top is nearly covered over with the purple heather, which, extending itself horizontally from both sides, meets in the centre. In some cases a man can walk at his full height in these mossy water-courses, without rising above the level of the surrounding surface. It was along this slippery ditch that a few persons seeking concealment from their enemies had proceeded to the hiding-place to which it led. The fact that a certain number of persons had concealed themselves somewhere in the locality, was discovered by a man of the name of Farquhar, who, though he did not know the exact spot which they had selected as their place of refuge, had yet noticed one of their party stealing cautiously in the dusk to a neighbouring house, to obtain provisions for his hungry companions. This man informed the commander of a company of troopers, who were either stationed in the district or incidentally passing along the line between the garrisons in Carsphairn and Ayrshire, that he had observed something suspicious, and intimated his readiness to accompany him, in the dusk of the evening, to the house at which he expected the man would call as usual. The commander of the party, whose name, it is said, was Darnley, consented, and led his troopers privately to the place. Accordingly, as was anticipated, one of the Covenanters in hiding was observed in the obscurity of the twilight approaching the house. He had come near without suspecting harm, but was soon made aware of his danger, by the whispering of voices and the appearance of men and horses at a short distance from him. He instantly retraced his steps and fled. Darnley and Farquhar pursued, and keeping on his track, came up to him as he reached the edge of the trench that conducted to the hiding-place. The Covenanter, whose name was James Douglas, stumbled, and Darnley fell with him into the deep hag. The noise drew the associates of Douglas from their concealment, and they came in a body to the place where the two men were lying struggling in the bottom of the rut. They rescued their associate, and led Darnley, as their prisoner, to their randezvous, and remonstrated with him on the impropriety of his conduct, pointing out the injustice and wickedness of the cause in which he was embarked, entreating him seriously to consider the danger in which his soul was placed, and exhorting him earnestly and affectionately to look to the Saviour for forgiveness. The kind treatment he received from them, and the good and salutary advices they gave him, made, it is said, a deep and lasting impression on his mind. In a short time he abandoned the cause of the persecutors, and embraced the principles of the Covenanters. He fought at the battle of Bothwell Bridge on the side of the Covenanters, and fell covered with wounds; and just before he expired, one of his former associates, who happened to pass the place where he lay, recognised him, and upbraided him with treachery in leaving the king's service, and connecting himself with rebels. With his dying breath, however, he bore testimony to the uprightness of his motives, and to the goodness of that cause in which he was now a sufferer. "I do not regret," said he, "the step which I have taken; I die with a heart full of comfort, and in the faith of the blessed Redeemer of the world." CHAPTER XVI. Story of Alexander Brown. ALEXANDER BROWN, the subject of the following sketch, is supposed to have been a native of the parish of Muirkirk, in which, during the heavy times of persecution, he rented a small farm, the name of which is not now known. He was cousin to John Brown of Priesthill, who, among the saintly names that graced the period in which he lived, was without all controversy one of the most illustrious. Their places of abode were contiguous, and sweet and refreshing were the hours of their hallowed intercourse when they talked of Zion's affliction and of the wailings of a bleeding Church, whose glory the haughty oppressor was trampling remorselessly in the dust. These holy men, however, encouraged themselves in the Lord their God, and sought communion with the saints in prayer and Christian fellowship. Brown and his cousin of Priesthill, whose story is told with unrivalled pathos in the "Scots Worthies," took sweet counsel together when travelling into the heart of the remotest solitudes to hear the Word of God preached by the gentle Renwick, or the good Cargill, and others of the faithful witnesses for "Scotland's covenanted cause." It is not known at what period of his life the subject of this narrative was brought to the knowledge of the truth, but certain it is that he was a true and devoted follower of the Saviour. In "killing times" he was "in perils oft, in weariness and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often." But the shield of a divine protection was over him, and his deliverance in the most imminent dangers display the overruling care of Him who was the comfort and salvation of that scattered remnant whose blood flowed alike on the streets of the populous cities and on the sides of the desert mountains. Tradition has not named the year in |