even that soon done with. But now, what with
the fame of the Doones, and my own recollections, and Uncle Ben's
insistence, all my attention was called forth, and the end was simple
astonishment.

The chine of highland, whereon we stood, curved to the right and left
of us, keeping about the same elevation, and crowned with trees and
brushwood. At about half a mile in front of us, but looking as if we
could throw a stone to strike any man upon it, another crest just like
our own bowed around to meet it; but failed by reason of two narrow
clefts of which we could only see the brink. One of these clefts was the
Doone-gate, with a portcullis of rock above it, and the other was the
chasm by which I had once made entrance. Betwixt them, where the hills
fell back, as in a perfect oval, traversed by the winding water, lay a
bright green valley, rimmed with sheer black rock, and seeming to have
sunken bodily from the bleak rough heights above. It looked as if no
frost could enter neither wind go ruffling; only spring, and hope, and
comfort, breathe to one another. Even now the rays of sunshine dwelt and
fell back on one another, whenever the clouds lifted; and the pale blue
glimpse of the growing day seemed to find young encouragement.

But for all that, Uncle Reuben was none the worse nor better. He looked
down into Glen Doone first, and sniffed as if he were smelling it, like
a sample of goods from a wholesale house; and then he looked at the
hills over yonder, and then he stared at me.

"See what a pack of fools they be?"

"Of course I do, Uncle Ben. 'All rogues are fools,' was my first copy,
beginning of the alphabet."

"Pack of stuff lad. Though true enough, and very good for young people.
But see you not how this great Doone valley may be taken in half an
hour?"

"Yes, to be sure I do, uncle; if they like to give it up, I mean."

"Three culverins on yonder hill, and three on the top of this one, and
we have them under a pestle. Ah, I have seen the wars, my lad, from
Keinton up to Naseby; and I might have been a general now, if they had
taken my advice--"

But I was not attending to him, being drawn away on a sudden by a sight
which never struck the sharp eyes of our General. For I had long ago
descried that little opening in the cliff through which I made my exit,
as before related, on the other side of the valley. No bigger than a
rabbit-hole it seemed from where we stood; and yet of all the scene
before me, tha