their way up, using the utmost precaution to avoid any noise.  There was no longer any need for concealment, and as the foremost of the assailants began to climb the great boulders at the foot of the precipice, a dozen arrows from the bush above alighted among them; killing three and wounding several others.  Sir John Kerr shouted to his men to follow him, and began to clamber up the hill.  Several arrows struck him, but he was sheathed in mail, as were his men-at-arms, and although several were wounded in the face and two slain they succeeded in reaching the bushes, but they could not penetrate further, for as they strove to tear the bushes aside and force an entry, those behind pierced them with their spears, and as but four or five assailants at a time could gain a footing and use their arms they were outnumbered and finally driven back by the defenders.  When Sir John, furious at his discomfiture, rejoined his vassals below, he found that the assault had already cost him eight of his best men.  He would, however, have again led them to the attack, but Red Roy said: 

“It were best, my lord, to send back and bid fifty of the vassals to come up hither at once, with bows and arrows.  They can so riddle those bushes that the defenders will be unable to occupy them to resist our advance.”

“That were a good step,” Sir John said; “but even when we gain the ledge I know not how we shall force our way through the hole, which you say is but three feet high.”

“There is no need to force our way in,” Red Roy replied; “each man who climbs shall carry with him a faggot of wood, and we will smoke them in their holes like wolves.”

“`Tis well thought of, Roy; that assuredly is the best plan.  Send off at once one of the most fleet footed of the party.”

Archie, watching from above, saw the assailants draw back out of bowshot, and while one of their number started at full speed down the hillside, the others sat down, evidently prepared to pass some time before they renewed the attack.  Leaving two of the party on guard, Archie, with the rest, re-entered the cavern.  The searchers had just returned and reported that all the various passages came to nothing, save one, which ascended rapidly and terminated in a hole which looked as if it had been made by rabbits, and through which the light of day could be seen.

“Then it is there we must work,” Archie said.  “I will myself go and examine it.”

The passage, after ascending to a point which Archie judged to be nigh a hundred feet above the floor of the cave, narrowed to a mere hole, but two feet high and as much wide.  Up this he crawled for a distance of four or five yards, then it narrowed suddenly to a hole three or four inches in diameter, and through this, some three feet farther, Archie could see the daylight through a clump of heather.  He backed himself down the narrow passage again until he joined his comrades.  “Now,” he said, “do