“After this we must be more careful to keep together,” said Mr. Whyland gravely. “He might have lost his life and none of us been the wiser. I did not miss you, Oliver, till we were out here.”
“Nor did any of us,” put in Cottle. “I tried to look back for you, but the rain was too thick; I couldn’t see a thing.”
In half an hour the sun was shining as brightly as ever. As the day was warm all hands took off their coats and hung them on their mules’ backs to dry.
“We may as well make camp before any of us take cold,” remarked Mr. Whyland; “it is only about an hour from sunset.”
“There is a good spot just a quarter of a mile farther,” said Cottle. “We will be there in five minutes.”
Quarter of an hour later they were in camp. The tent was pitched on a bit of high, sandy ground, and a roaring fire was started just outside of the entrance. The following day was Sunday. Cottle would have gone ahead as usual; but the boys and Mr. Whyland voted to remain in camp and take a rest, and let the mules do the same.
“Besides,” said Oliver, “nothing will ever be gained by breaking in on the Sabbath when there is no absolute necessity for so doing.”
“You are right,” said Gus.
“I like to hear young men talk like that,” put in Mr. Whyland; “it shows a proper spirit. Let us spend the day as it should be spent.”