ver Bane's wide-open mouth. At a
glance he had seen that it was possible to lay a light hand on the inner
end of the branch, and at the same time bend his mouth over Dougall's
ear. He drew a long breath, for it was a somewhat delicate and
difficult, being a duplicate, manoeuvre!

Pressing down the branch very slowly and with exceeding care, he guided
the egg into Bane's mouth. He observed the precise moment when it
touched the sleeper's tongue, and then exploded a yell into Dougall's
ear that nearly burst the tympanum.

Bane's jaws shut with a snap instantly. Need we--no, we need not!
Dougall leaped up with a cry that almost equalled that of Salamander.
Both men rushed to the fortress and bounded into it, the one spurting
out Gaelic expletives, the other rotten egg and bits of shell. They
seized their guns and crouched, glaring through the various loopholes
all round with finger on trigger, ready to sacrifice at a moment's
notice anything with life that should appear. Indeed they found it
difficult, in their excited condition, to refrain from blazing at
nothing! Their friendly foe meanwhile had retired, highly delighted
with his success. He had not done with them however. By no means! The
spirit of mischief was still strong upon him, and he crept into the
bushes to meditate.

"It wass an evil speerut, Shames," gasped Donald Bane, when he had
nearly got rid of the egg. "Did you smell his preath?"

"No, Tonald, it wass not. Spirits are not corporeal, and cannot handle
eggs, much less cram them down a man's throat. It wass the egg you did
smell."

"That may be so, Shames, but it could not be a redskin, for he would be
more likely to cram a scalpin' knife into my heart than an egg into my
mouth."

"Iss it not dreamin' ye wass, an' tryin' to eat some more in your sleep?
You wass always fond of overeatin' yourself--whativer--Tonald."

Before this question could be answered, another yell of the most
appalling and complex nature rang out upon the night-air, struck them
dumb, and seemed to crumple up their very hearts.

Salamander had been born with a natural gift for shrieking, and being of
a sprightly disposition, had cultivated the gift in boyhood.
Afterwards, being also a good mimic, he had made the subject a special
study, with a view to attract geese and other game towards him. That he
sometimes prostituted the talent was due to the touch of genius, to
which I have already referred.

When the crum