From Beckford to Oxenton the great story lasted, eked out with questions and answers as it proceeded. Thus, Horace wanted to know why Kink had not sprung to the horses' heads and checked them in their wild career.
"We couldn't see them," said Gregory; "they were coming up behind, and we were sitting in front."
Horace was dissatisfied.
"What frightened them?" Jack wanted to know; but Gregory could not say. Patricia had not explained.
"Fancy not knowing what frightened them!" said Jack.
The fact was that both Jack and Horace were a little overtired, and perhaps a little jealous of the eventfulness of the Slowcoach's day.
They had been talking so hard that they had not noticed the sky; and the splashing of raindrops was the first knowledge they had that a storm was coming. It was nearly seven, and suddenly they all knew that they were very tired and hungry and rather chilly. Kink stopped Moses and suggested camping at once.
"Where?" said Robert.
"Here," said Kink. "Under these trees. There'll be a downpour soon: better get your supper at once."
They therefore did not make any effort to find a farm, but instantly unpacked. Hitherto everything had gone smoothly, but this was a bad evening. Nothing seemed to be in its place, and Hester, whose duty it was to get enough dry wood, had forgotten all about it, and by the time a new bundle could be brought it was damp. Then the matches blew out, and then, when at last the fire was alight, the wind scattered the flames so that there was no heat under the pot for more than a moment at a time. This often happens when you are on caravan excursions.