Far outside of Dumbarton in a wild country, I overtook my mate again. It was now nearly nightfall, and the sun was hardly a hand's breadth above the horizon. Moleskin was singing to himself as I came up on him. I overheard one verse and this was the kind of it. It was a song which I had heard often before sung by navvies in the models.
"Oh! fare you well to the bricks and mortar!
And fare you well to the hod and lime!
For now I'm courtin' the ganger's daughter,
And soon I'll lift my lyin' time."
He finished off at that, as I came near, and I noticed a heavy bulge under his left oxter between the coat and waistcoat. It was something new; I asked him what it was, but he wouldn't tell me. The road ran through a rocky moor, but here and there clumps of hazel bounded our way. We could see at times soft-eyed curious Highland steers gazing out at us from amongst the bushes, as if they were surprised to see human beings in that deserted neighbourhood. When we stood and looked at them they snorted in contempt and crashed away from our sight through the copsewood.
"I think that we'll doss here for the night," said Moleskin when we had walked about a mile further. He crawled over a wayside dyke and threw down the bundle which he had up to that time concealed under his coat. It was a dead hen.
"The corpse of a hen," said Joe with a laugh. "Now we've got to drum up," he went on, "and get some supper before the dew falls. It is a hard job to light a fire when the night is on."
From experience I knew this to be the case; so together we broke rotten hazel twigs, collected some dry brambles from the undergrowth and built them in a heap. Joe placed some crisp moss under the pile; I applied a match and in a moment we had a brightly blazing fire. I emptied my pockets, proud to display the results of the afternoon's work, which, when totalled, consisted of four slices of bread, twopence, and about one half-ounce of tobacco. Joe produced some more bread, his penny, and three little packets which contained tea, sugar, and salt. These, he told me, he had procured from a young girl in a ploughman's cottage.