Robert White, Jr. 301 



before his nose. The said nose was equipped with 

 a hard little point, and he pushed it against the wall, 

 and presently first cracked and then shattered a tiny 

 section, through which at once poured his first 

 direct supply of air. It was gratefully warm and 

 wondrously invigorating. 



A few moments after Robert had made his first 

 breach in his prison wall, his instinct prompted him 

 to twist a little to one side and repeat his bill-push- 

 ing. He did this again and again, sometimes 

 hurriedly, but with occasional long pauses, until a 

 regular line of small fractures extended almost 

 around the wall. Then he struggled desperately, 

 and lo ! the dome above his head quivered, yielded, 

 and fell away, and the first kicks of his untried little 

 legs caused him to tumble sprawling into warm 

 darkness. He was moist, almost naked, and trem- 

 blingly weak, but he was old Robert White's son 

 now, with no further use for a shell. That there 

 were other shells long and round and brass-ended, 

 he did not know, and not knowing, did not care. 



It was pitch dark, yet amazingly comfortable, 

 where he lay thrilling with new life. Pressing upon 

 him was a something deliciously soft and soothing. 

 The touch of it seemed to lend strength as the 

 minutes passed ; so he gratefully rubbed his head 

 against it, and resolved to maintain his present posi- 

 tion at all hazards. He did not know why he 

 should do so, yet something told him to remain for 

 the time exactly where he was and to resist any- 

 thing which tried to move him. And he did resist, 

 and presently he had need to, for damp, warm things 

 began to press against him from all directions. He 



