Once fairly awake, further sleep was impossible, and I found my clothes, which I had placed on the bed for additional warmth, quite damp from the rain which, in the earlier part of the night, had been driven into the tent in the form of mist. As I did not feel anxious to rise for yet another hour or two, I secured pen and paper, and by propping myself up in bed was enabled to watch the daybreak and the waking camp through an opening in the flap of the tent.
The chanticleer that had aroused the camp was answered by a conceited bantam away somewhere at the far corner, then a dog barked, later a horse or two whinnied; in a short time people moved to and fro and there were sounds of chopping and the breaking of wood; this was soon kindled and smoke from the numerous fires wreathed the camp in a blue haze. In the wood just in the rear, a pigeon cooed plaintively, while nearer a robin was singing; then my ears were assailed by the cries of children and I caught sight of horses being led past and heard their steady plod, plod, through the sodden grass. The women and older girls were now attending to the dressing of the younger children. Snatches of conversation reached me, expressively worded requests were borne on the air from all quarters of the camp:—
“Here, you kid! jal to the pawnugo hev.”
“Fetch me some water,—d’ye hear?”
“Go and get some milk, I tell yer!”
“Acoi, kai si o pani-mengri?”
“Plastra, you kid!”
These and similar exclamations and commands were to be heard on all sides. One little fellow was told by his sister to fetch water and he replied saucily—
“No, miss, I’m too young to fetch water. Why! me fetch water with all them gurt big fellows about (referring to his brothers). No, me lady, to-day’s rest day and I’m goin’ to walk about all day like a gentleman”—thereupon he hooked his thumbs behind his braces and strutted about with bare feet in the wet grass.