A Croft in the Hills Read Online Free PDF Page A

shown, with quiet pride, the bathroom, the new scullery with its gleaming sink and hot and cold taps, the enamelled cooking stove, the bright paintwork
everywhere.
    Later we were told how Finlay’s forebears had been evicted from a place in a fertile glen and had started all over again in this green upland, first building themselves a rough house of
stone and thatch, then clearing little fields from the heather. We were also told how the men who now live there had laboured, as boys, before and after school, to make the road which carries
cattle-floats these days up to their snug farmstead. We began to understand how it was that the Highlander made such a splendid pioneer in Canada and New Zealand.
    Towards the end of January the wind at last got back to its normal westerly quarter and the air became soft and damp again. The plumber returned and our shining new taps at last began to
function. It was thrilling to see the water actually flow from them— it was bright green in colour, but somehow that only added to the delight. After a time the piping settled down till there
was only a faint tinge of green about the water and it had no ill effect on our stomachs.
    The mild spell, unbelievably, continued. There was almost a warmth in the sun and the midges were dancing. Encouraged by this overture we took a spade to the garden plot. It had been neglected
for years, but it had a dry-stone wall protecting it from the north and east and we could see its possibilities. In a couple of days we had the turf skimmed off and our spades bit delightedly into
the good, black earth.
    We began to get very impatient to start the real work of the place. The first essential, we knew, for the growing of crops, was sound fencing. Every afternoon we went up to the old woodland,
selected pieces of timber suitable for making into fencing posts and carried them down on our shoulders. We pointed the ends and stuck them to soak in a pail of creosote.
    But we realised that it would take weeks to make all that were needed. Our land marched for almost half a mile with Forestry Commission land. This Forestry land was unfenced, pending replanting,
and sheep from various airts were roaming over it and finding their way into our fields. On our next trip to Inverness Jim went to see the Forestry people and asked when they meant to fence. To our
astonishment and great satisfaction they said that although they did not intend to plant immediately they would put forward the fencing and make a start at it in the early summer. This news cheered
us greatly; it really did look as though things were going our way.
    We bought a tractor and a single plough. The tractor had a small bogey attachment and during the long weeks we waited for the ground to dry out for ploughing we found this extremely useful for
all sorts of carting work. We were able to fetch wood in large quantities, both for fuel and for fencing posts, and load after load of stones for patching the road.
    February brought another blizzard and the road was blocked again, but this time we had the larder well stocked. We were learning! By the end of the month the larks were singing. There is perhaps
nothing in hill-life so thrilling as the sight and sound of the first returning lark. You go out, on a still February morning, your footsteps ringing on the hard cobbles of the yard. Suddenly,
something makes you stop in your tracks and look up. Against the pale blue sky you see two, maybe three, or even four, small brown specks tossing madly in the air. As you look, one detaches itself
from the rest, rises in a series of ecstatic leaps and comes slowly down again, its song rippling from its tiny throat. How something so small can let loose such a volume of sound is what amazes
you. Soon the others join it and then the whole sky rings with music.
    ‘The larks are singing!’ Each year we make the announcement to one another. The words are sober enough, but what they convey, it is almost impossible to