And O , man , '' he cried in a kind of ecstasy , `` am I no a bonny fighter ? '' Thereupon he turned to the four enemies , passed his sword clean through each of them , and tumbled them out of doors one after the other . As he did so , he kept humming and singing and whistling to himself , like a man trying to recall an air ; only what HE was trying was to make one . All the while , the flush was in his face , and his eyes were as bright as a five-year-old child 's with a new toy . And presently he sat down upon the table , sword in hand ; the air that he was making all the time began to run a little clearer , and then clearer still ; and then out he burst with a great voice into a Gaelic song . I have translated it here , not in verse -LRB- of which I have no skill -RRB- but at least in the king 's English . He sang it often afterwards , and the thing became popular ; so that I have heard it and had it explained to me , many 's the time . `` This is the song of the sword of Alan ; The smith made it , The fire set it ; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck . `` Their eyes were many and bright , Swift were they to behold , Many the hands they guided : The sword was alone . `` The dun deer troop over the hill , They are many , the hill is one ; The dun deer vanish , The hill remains . `` Come to me from the hills of heather , Come from the isles of the sea . O far-beholding eagles , Here is your meat . '' Now this song which he made -LRB- both words and music -RRB- in the hour of our victory , is something less than just to me , who stood beside him in the tussle . Mr. Shuan and five more were either killed outright or thoroughly disabled ; but of these , two fell by my hand , the two that came by the skylight . Four more were hurt , and of that number , one -LRB- and he not the least important -RRB- got his hurt from me . So that , altogether , I did my fair share both of the killing and the wounding , and might have claimed a place in Alan 's verses . But poets have to think upon their rhymes ; and in good prose talk , Alan always did me more than justice . In the meanwhile , I was innocent of any wrong being done me . For not only I knew no word of the Gaelic ; but what with the long suspense of the waiting , and the scurry and strain of our two spirts of fighting , and more than all , the horror I had of some of my own share in it , the thing was no sooner over than I was glad to stagger to a seat . There was that tightness on my chest that I could hardly breathe ; the thought of the two men I had shot sat upon me like a nightmare ; and all upon a sudden , and before I had a guess of what was coming , I began to sob and cry like any child .
XXXXX clapped my shoulder , and said I was a brave lad and wanted nothing but a sleep .
Alan Breck English Shuan Swift bonny fire five-year-old spirts tightness