“Oh, he can’t drink in that way!”
“Just hand me the jug and see.” She complied, and Guard justified my faith in his intelligence by gulping down the water that I poured into his open mouth, very carefully, scarcely spilling a drop.
In the end we decided to get out and eat our lunch in the shade of the wagon, especially as Ralph was plaintively declaring:
“Me so hundry!”
“We’ll give the horses a chance to eat while we’re selling the melons,” I remarked, as much for Frank’s benefit as anything else, for he had turned his head, and was watching us with reproachful interest, as we sat at our meal. He must have thought us very selfish.
Lunch over, we climbed back into the wagon again, after re-packing the basket. Guard also signified his willingness to ride, now, and we went on, much refreshed by the brief stop and the needed lunch which had hardly lost its consolatory effect when, between one and two o’clock, we drew up before the door of the cook’s tent, on the eastern bank of the great water-storage reservoir. The cook was busy, but signified, after a hasty inspection, that our load was all right.
“Better take it in,” he added, nodding toward one of the three men who were lounging about in the vicinity. I suppose that this friendly young gentleman must have been the commissary clerk, or something of that sort. He called a man to take care of our horses, and chatted with us pleasantly, while another man unloaded the melons. He urged us to come into the dining-tent and let the cook “knock us up a dinner,” but this we declined on the plea that we had already dined, and were extremely anxious to take the homeward road as soon as possible.
“It’s so late, you see,” Jessie observed, consulting father’s big silver watch, which she carried.
“We have already been here some time; how late is it, Jessie?” I asked.
“Why, it’s nearly four!” Jessie made the statement in a tone of dismay, adding: “How late it will be before we get home!”