They had dug a path all around the edge of the cellar, close to the line his papa had marked out. The path was four feet from the ground which was as deep as it was to go. Now they did not try to throw out their shovelsful upon the bank, they threw them on the great pile in the centre.
Bertie stood still and watched them for some time, wondering what it could mean. He did not suppose this great pile was to remain in the middle of the cellar; and yet he did not see how it could be taken out.
The men were so busy he didn't like to interrupt them. Besides he didn't feel so well acquainted with them as he did with Tom and Jim. A good many times he had jumped on the drag, and the oxen had drawn him to the other part of the farm where the old stone wall was being pulled down.
At last one of the Irishmen looked up to the bank and said pleasantly,—
"There's the little master come to see us."
"I thought you were lost," answered Bertie, laughing. "Will you please to tell me what you are going to do with all that ground in the middle of the cellar?"
"The oxen are going to draw it out. You will see them presently."
"But how can the oxen get down there?" asked the boy, greatly surprised.
"Run round to the bulkhead, and you will see."