Then he started, for a hand from out of the darkness gripped his shoulder, and his uncle’s voice said: “Yes, boy, you are quite right; savage howling wolves, who would have no mercy upon us, I am afraid.”
“You here, uncle?”
“Yes, lad; your father has just relieved me, and I’m coming to sit down and eat some bread, and have a pannikin of water. Where’s Shanter?”
“Mine all along here ’top chimney,” said the black.
“Yes, and that’s one thing I am going to do,” said Uncle Jack. “Your father, boys, and Shanter have talked it over. There is a square case here in the corner that we think will about fill the chimney a little way up.”
“Yes; here it is,” cried Rifle.
“Let’s try.”
Then, in the darkness, the chest was dragged to the front of the fire, lifted, found to go right up and block the chimney, so that when it was wedged up in its place by placing a barrel upright beneath, that way of entrance was effectually blocked, and Uncle Jack uttered a sigh of relief.
“Now for my bread and water,” he said.—“Have some damper, Shanter?”
“Hey? Damper?” cried the black, eagerly. “Gib damper. Hah! Soff damper.”