Chapter Ten.
A Morning Dip.
“Had a good night’s rest, my boy?”
“Night’s rest?” stammered Nic.
“Yes; you have been asleep eight hours, I should say.”
Nic stared.
“Like a bath? Do you good. Get a towel, and have a plunge into the pool. Don’t be more than a quarter of an hour gone. Can you swim?”
“Yes, father,” said Nic, who felt stiff and shivery; and as he climbed up under the waggon-cover for the towel, he wished bathing had never been invented.
Getting down and making for the water-hole, he came upon Brookes, who was carrying an armful of wood for the fire, and he saluted the boy with: