"Change your mind, my friend,--or my foe,--and come sit and drink with me." MacLean reared himself from his seat, and went stiffly over to the table.
"I have eaten and drunken with an enemy before to-day," he said.

"Once I met Ewin Mor Mackinnon upon a mountain side.

He had oatcake in his sporran, and I a flask of usquebaugh.

We couched in the heather, and ate and drank together, and then we rose and fought.

I should have slain him but that a dozen Mackinnons came up the glen, and he turned and fled to them for cover.