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Updated: May 4, 2025
Sometimes M'Nab forgot to do so, and as his club were frequently in great straits to get him to play, he had to steep his brains to think on a strategic movement to get free, and succeeded; but sometimes with the aid of a "crammer."
Arrowhead was foremost, and it was his tomahawk that brained the insensible Jennie; and her reeking hair was hanging at his girdle as a trophy in less than two minutes after she had quitted the blockhouse. His companions were equally active, and M'Nab and his soldiers no longer presented the quiet aspect of men who slumbered. They were left in their gore, unequivocally butchered corpses.
He went, though not every Sunday, to kirk and sat with his aunt and with Strickland in the laird's boxlike, curtained pew. Mr. M'Nab preached of original sin and ineffable condemnation, and of the few, the very, very few, saved as by fire. He saw Jarvis Barrow sitting motionless, sternly agreeing, and beyond him Jenny Barrow and then Elspeth and Gilian.
"It needs no journey from Scotland to this place to know the facts needful to be o' that way of thinking." returned M'Nab drily. "I do not doubt your understanding it as well as myself, Mr. M'Nab, but I'm fearful that you veterans, accustomed as you are to dangers and battles, are a little apt to overlook some of the precautions that may be necessary in a situation as peculiar as ours."
"Ta old man was a good man, and a well-educated man; but a Glasgow is always a Glasgow; sell his web or his waens for ta money, and carein' as little for either kin or country as does ta cuckoo. God bless you, and if ever you should see Ben Nevis again, think on Duncan M'Nab that will see it no more."
"Ye'll be late gittin' to the ram-paddock, Tamson," remarked M'Nab, treating Cooper with the silent contempt usually lavished upon men of his physique. "Axpect thon's where ye're makin' fur?" "I say you better camp with us to-night," suggested Thompson, evading the implied inquiry.
"The horse's name's Clayopathra," rejoined M'Nab; "an' by gog ye'll fine him wan out iv a thousan'. A chris'ned him Clayopathra, fur A thought till run him." "A very good name too," I replied affably. "I should be sorry to change it." And I never did change it, though, often afterward, men of clerkly attainments took me aside and kindly pointed out what they conceived to be a blunder.
The senior himself was an enthusiastic admirer of the game, and one way or another did much to encourage it by his presence on the field at all the big matches, and if any of the lads, such as myself, Brown, Rose, Wilson, or M'Nab wanted away to play in a big affair, a hint reaching the governor's ears to that effect was amply sufficient.
He lined up his disreputable paladins in the darkness, and spoke "Sergeant M'Nab, how many men are present?" "Eighteen, sirr." The platoon had gone into action thirty-four strong. "How many men are deficient of an emergency ration? I can make a good guess, but you had better find out." Five minutes later the Sergeant reported. Cockerell's guess was correct.
He saw that because he had done that, time and time again done that. Mr. M'Nab preached a courageous, if harsh, sermon. The old words of commination! They were not empty but in among them, fine as ether, now ran a gloss.... The sermon ended, the final psalm was sung. "When Zion's bondage God turned back, As men that dreamed were we. Then filled with laughter was our mouth. Our tongue with melody "
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