'
With that he began to ascend the rock, striding, with the help of his
hands, from one precarious footstep to another, till he got about
half-way up, where two or three bushes concealed the mouth of a hole,
resembling an oven, into which the Baron insinuated, first his head and
shoulders, and then, by slow gradation, the rest of his l ong body; his
legs and feet finally disappearing, coiled up like a huge snake entering
his retreat, or a long pedigree introduced with care and difficulty into
the narrow pigeon-hole of an old cabinet. Waverley had the curiosity to
clamber up and look in upon him in his den, as the lurking-place might
well be termed. Upon the whole, he looked not unlike that ingenious
puzzle called 'a reel in a bottle,' the marvel of children (and of some
grown people too, myself for one), who can neither comprehend the
mysteryhowit has got in or how it is to be taken out. The cave was very
narrow, too low in the roof to admit of his standing, or almost of his
sitting up, though he made some awkward attempts at the latter posture.
His sole amusement was the perusal of his old friend Titus Livius, varied
by occasionally scratching Latin proverbs and texts of Scripture with his
knife on the roof and walls of his fortalice, which were of sandstone.
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