“Yes. Look if there’s a lot o’ rock behind you.”
“Ay, I am a-leaning again it.”
“There you are, sir! I’ll go on and light the fire and set the kettle to boil,” said Smith, and ten minutes after there was a ruddy blaze lighting up the rocks and trees; a good tea meal followed, and forgetting all perils and dangers, the little party lay down to rest and enjoy the sound sleep that comes to the truly tired out.
Chapter Twenty Five.
“Pot First.”
The night passed peaceably enough, and though every now and then there was a violent hissing from close at hand, it was not noticed till just at daybreak, when Smith, who had grown brave and reckless with knowledge, drove his elbow into his messmate’s ribs.
“All right,” growled Wriggs, drowsily, “but t’arnt our watch, is it?”
“Watch? No, rouse up, my lad. Steam’s up.”