“Swein Poulsson!” exclaimed Polly Ann, giving him an involuntary kick, “may the devil give ye shame!”
Swein Poulsson rose to a sitting position and clasped his knees in his hands.
“I haf one great fright,” said he.
“Send him into the common with the women in yere place, Mis' McChesney,” growled Cowan, who was loading.
“By tam!” said Swein Poulsson, leaping to his feet, “I vill stay here und fight. I am prave once again.” Stooping down, he searched under the bed, pulled out his rifle, powdered the pan, and flying to the other port, fired. At that Cowan left his post and snatched the rifle from Poulsson's hands.
“Ye're but wasting powder,” he cried angrily.
“Then, by tam, I am as vell under the bed,” said Poulsson. “Vat can I do?”
I had it.
“Dig!” I shouted; and seizing the astonished Cowan's tomahawk from his belt I set to work furiously chopping at the dirt beneath the log wall. “Dig, so that James can get under.”
Cowan gave me the one look, swore a mighty oath, and leaping to the port shouted to Ray in a thundering voice what we were doing.