The story is told of the English Regiment marching through the Highlands of Scotland (when English Regiments were wont to do such). As they passed through a very narrow defile, a voice mocked them from above. "I'm Red Rory of the Glen," the voice called. "And I challenge you! Send up your best man." The Colonel of the Regiment looked up to the hilltop and beheld the BIGGEST Scot he had ever seen. His kilt-girthed form must have stood 7 foot and the Claymore in his hand would dwarf most men. Again the challenge echoed across the hills. "I'm Red Rory of the Glen and I challenge you! If anyone amongst you would dare to call himself ``Champion'', then send him up!" The Colonel, unwilling to let this challenge to the flower of English Soldiery pass unanswered, called over his Adjunct. "Major," he seethed, "send up the Regiment's champion. I want this Scot's head!" And so the Champion went forth. Up the hill he strode, confidence in every step, to do battle with this Challenger. The Challenger roared his mirth and stepped over the crest, out of site; the Champion followed. Soon the sounds of battle rolled over the hill and the Regiment waited. And then, THUMP Thump thump.... A head! Rolling down the hill came a head. And then, from the hilltop, came the rumble of the Challenger's laughter. "I'm Red Rory of the Glen! Again I challenge you! Send up your best Squad!" "Major," shouted the Colonel! "This cannot be stood! Send up the best Squad." Up the hill forged the Squad, then over the crest to face the Challenger. Soon the sounds of battle were heard again and then THUMP THUMP THUMP Thump Thump thump! The heads of the squad came rolling down the hill. "I'm Red Rory of the Glen," came the voice, "and I challenge you! Send up your best company!" Rage contorted the Colonel's face as he screamed, "Major! Send up Company C. I want that man's head and I want it now!" "Yes, sir," was the only response, and soon Company C was advancing up the hill. Again, from over the crest, came the sounds of terrible battle but this time, floating above them, came the sound of the Challenger's laughter! Slowly, the sounds of battle died away but still the laughter continued. And then, from the top of the hill, came a avalanche of heads to pile up around the Colonel's feet. "I'm Red Rory of the Glen, and I challenge you! I have beaten the best you have to send, now come yourself!" "Major," said the Colonel, his rage now turned icy cold. "Take the Regiment up that hill and destroy him! I don't want anyone to return without his head!" So, in good form, the Regiment marched up the hill and out of the sight of the Colonel waiting at the bottom of the hill. This time the battle raged for hours. Then as the sun sank into the hills, the Adjunct came hurtling down the hill, his uniform disarrayed and splattered with blood. His eyes spoke books of terror. "Colonel," he screamed, his terror edging his voice with panic, "RUN, it's an ambush! There's two of them!"