Though puzzled by this performance, Horace did so several times, the hunchback following in his tracks.
"Turn up-stream!" came the next order, and, with the word, he turned directly into the water.
"Whatever you do," warned the hunchback, "don't step on anything that projects out of the water and don't touch the bank."
Completely at a loss to understand his companion's purposes, Horace obeyed to the letter. After wading up stream for a hundred yards or so, Croquier handed the cage to Horace.
"Give me a leg up to that branch," he said, pointing to the limb of a large tree that overhung the river, bifurcating from the bank.
Taking the hunchback's foot in one hand, Horace gave a heave, just enabling his companion to reach the branch overhead. Next he handed up the cage. Then the hunchback, leaning down, grasped the boy's outstretched hand and pulled him to the bough, beside him. Thence he slid down the sloping trunk to the point where the roots divided, forming a natural deep hollow. Here he ensconced himself comfortably, and Horace followed.
"Breakfast and a good sleep," said the hunchback, "are the two things we need now."
Horace agreed heartily. He was worn out by trying to keep up with the hunchback.
"But why did you go to all this trouble to get here?" he asked. "We could have stepped right on to this tree from the bank."