From Ayr they
came, from Renfrew, Dumbarton, Stirling, Turnberry, and many another
stronghold that had been warned of the enemy's nearness by means of
beacon fires on the highest hilltops.
But of the forces that were making ready to meet them the Norsemen knew
little. They were at present too much engaged in attending to the safety
of their ships, and not any of them could make a landing that day. The
wind rose higher, the tempest increased in fury, and at nightfall there
came a deluging storm of hail and rain which continued until late next
morning.
For this the Scots cared little. Curling themselves up with their plaids
about them they slept soundly upon the heather, undisturbed by the
howling of the wind and the raging of the waves upon the rocky shore.
But with the invaders it was far from being such an easy matter. Their
anchors dragged. Many vessels had to have their masts cut away. King
Hakon's own gallant ship, although secured by seven anchors, was driven
from her moorings, and five galleys were cast ashore.
And now when the tempest seemed to threaten the total destruction of
their enemies, a mixed multitude of armed Scots on the surrounding
heights watched every movement of the Norwegian fleet, ready to take
instant advantage of its distress. So, when the five galleys with their
armed shipmen were driven ashore, Sir Piers de Currie and the men of
Bute rushed down from the heights and attacked the stranded vessels.
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