s knife, and managed to get out a good deal of the marrow.

"She's fine, though she is mickle," he said; and then he sighed and
looked hard at the pieces of the deer set aside for the absent ones--a
shabby, raggedly cut lot, though of course of delicious meat.

Watty stretched his eyes away and had a look round.

"They dinna come pack," he said, "and it's chust wasting a bonnie bit
fire."

There was a pause.

"She'd petter pit on some mair coal," muttered Watty; and he picked up a
weather-worn lump, but dropped it again.

"It's chust spoiling a gude fire to put on mair coal," he said softly,
with his face all wrinkles, "and a' tat meat waiting."

He had another look round.

"She's ferry hungry," he muttered; "and she'll chust hae ane wee pit.
The captain said he couldna eat. She can."

He made a dart at the biggest piece, laid it on the glowing coal,
seasoned it as before, waited till it was done on one side, and then
picked it up cleverly on the point of his knife and turned it, seasoned
this side also, and replaced his box.

"Peautiful, peautiful!" he murmured. "Hey, put she smells petter than
floores!"

He did not leave the meat to cook too long, but soon had it out and laid
upon a nicely warmed, flat piece of slaty stone, which served him for a
plate as he began to eat with the greatest of gusto.

"Hey, put she is chuicy," he muttered, as he munched away without paying
much heed to a bit or two of cinder adhering to the meat and sounding
unpleasant as he crunched them between his strong, white teeth.

"Peautiful!" he murmured again, as he got about half-way through.
"She's thenking it would pe petter to begin cooking mair so as to be
retty when they come pack."

So he placed another piece on the fire, and then went on eating his
second snack so slowly and deliberately, spending a certain amount of
time the while in watching and turning the cooking piece that it was
beautifully done by the time he had finished; and now came a terrible
test of his powers of endurance. He looked at the frizzled slice, then
away from it, then back at it; and it tempted him so sorely that he got
up and walked away.

"She's letting the fire oot," he cried, and ran back to stand looking
down at it. "Nay, put she'd spoil a gude cooking fire if she put on
anny coal. She'll cook ta rest."

No sooner said than done. A fresh piece was put on the glowing cinders,
and the newly cooked slice placed upon the bit of shale.