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Rh We’ll no touch a drap o’ that likker–that’s hard, man, ye canna deny.…” ''“It’s the last thing she’ll think o’ denyin’,” says Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye.

Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gleska: “If I should get struck frae the rear, Ye’ll tak’ and ye’ll shield the wee lassie, and rin for the lines like a deer. God! Wis that the breenge o’ a bullet? I’m thinkin’ it's cracket ma spine. I’m doon on ma knees in the glabber; I’m fearin’, auld man, I’ve got mine. Here, quick! Pit yer erms roon the lassie. Noo, rin, lad! good luck and good-by.… ''“Hoots, mon! it’s ye baith she’ll be takin’,” says Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye.

Says Corporal Muckle frae Rannoch: “Is that no’ a picture tae frame? Twa sair woundit Jocks wi’ a lassie jist like ma wee Jeannie at hame. We’re prood o’ ye baith, ma brave heroes. We’ll gie ye a medal, I think.” Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gleska: “I’d raither ye gied me a drink. I’ll no speak for Private MacCrimmon, but oh, mon, I’m perishin’ dry.…” ''“She’ll wush that Loch Lefen wass whuskey,” says Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye.