"Well, here I am," said Jack; and he took the pickaxe and put it into his other pocket.
Then he slid merrily down between the rocks to the place where Peter and Paul were resting themselves.
"Well, Mr Why-and-How," said Paul, "what great wonder did you find up there?"
"It was really a pickaxe that we heard," answered Jack.
About noon the boys came to a pleasant brook. The water was cool and clear, and it flowed in shady places among reeds and flowers.
The boys were thirsty, and they stopped to drink. Then they lay down on the grass to rest.
"I wonder where this brook comes from," said Jack.
"Of course you do," growled Paul. "You are always trying to pry into things and find out where they come from. You are foolish."
"Foolish or not foolish," answered Jack, "I am going to find out all about this brook."
So, while his brothers went to sleep in the shade, he ran along up its banks, looking at this thing and that and wondering at them all.