up the difficulty, and one to help Uncle Reuben.  And so at last we gained the top, and looked forth the edge of the forest, where the ground was very stony and like the crest of a quarry; and no more trees between us and the brink of cliff below, three hundred yards below it might be, all strong slope and gliddery.  And now far the first time I was amazed at the appearance of the Doones’s stronghold, and understood its nature.  For when I had been even in the valley, and climbed the cliffs to escape from it, about seven years agone, I was no more than a stripling boy, noting little, as boys do, except for their present purpose, and 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—­”