James, whose father was a stonemason and
whose mother was a Highland lassie born near Loch Lomond, was the
leader in these battles, but all the fighting was forgotten when he
heard that a boy was in danger of his life, and so he had plunged in
as swiftly to save him as he would have done for any boy from his own
school.
We do not hear that James was clever at lessons in his school, but
when there was anything to be done, he had the quickest hand, the
keenest eye, the swiftest mind, and the most daring heart in all the
village.
Though he loved the hills and glens and the mountain torrent, James,
above everything else, revelled in the sea. One day a little later on,
after the rescue of his friend from drowning, James stood on the
quay at Inverary gazing across the loch and watching the sails of the
fishing boats, when he heard a loud cry.
He looked round. There, on the edge of the quay, stood a mother
wringing her hands and calling out that her child had fallen into the
water and was drowning. James ran along the quay, and taking off his
coat as he dashed to the spot, he dived into the water and, seizing
the little child by the dress, drew him ashore. The child seemed dead,
but when they laid him on the quayside, and moved his arms, his breath
began to come and go again and the colour returned to his cheeks.
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