"I'll take that too.

Would you lend me a handkychy or a bit o' string, Mr Mark, sir, to tie their legs together, and then I can carry the lot over my shoulder, some before and some behind." "Fore and aft," said Mark, taking a piece of fishing-line from his pocket.
"Yes, sir, that's it," said the man; "but I can't never recollect those sailors' words.
"That's your sort," he continued cheerfully, as the birds' legs were securely tied, and as he knelt on the sand he got them well over his shoulder, got up slowly by a great effort and essayed to start, then reeled, and recovered himself, reeled again, and fell headlong with his load.
He raised himself slowly to his knees, and looked pitifully from one to the other, and then at his load.
"I'm no good," he said in a whimpering tone.

"I never was no good to nobody, and I never shall be." "Bah! stuff!" cried the major.

"Here, untie them, and tie two, two, and four together, Mark.

I'll take four, and you a pair each." "Let's make Bruff carry two," said Mark, as soon as the birds were freshly disposed, and hanging a pair pannier fashion over the dog's back, leaving thus a pair apiece, they started, after a vain attempt on the part of the stowaway to obtain permission to carry four.
Bruff protested at first, and seemed to consider it to be his duty to lie down and get rid of his load; then when it was replaced, with stern commands to him to carry it, he took upon himself to consider that it must be carried in his jaws, when Jack bounded to his side and began to pick out the feathers.
But after a little perseverance the teachable dog bore his load well enough, and the little party trudged back over the firm sand.