The clearing had evidently been the work of many men, and it was plain to see what the place must have been before the axe was introduced, by the dense mass of giant trees that stood up untouched a couple of hundred yards on either side—the primaeval forest in its glory, untouched by man.
Chapter Twenty Six.
A night watch.
It was not many minutes later when, attracted by a group of the lovely insects playing about the shrubs that were in full bloom, Fitz had hung back, making them an excuse while he rested, standing mopping his face, streaming with perspiration, while Poole, no less willing to enjoy a few minutes’ halt, stood looking back watching him.
Meanwhile the skipper had gone on, closely followed by the men, and passed out of sight. And then the few minutes became a few minutes more, neither of the lads noting the lapse of time, for everything around was so beautiful that they had no thought for the task in hand, nor fear of being interrupted by any of the enemy who might be near.
Everything was so dreamy and beautiful that Poole cast his eyes around in search of some fallen trunk, with the idea that nothing could be more delightful than to sit down there in the shade and drowse the time away.
Then he was awake again, for from somewhere ahead, but so far off that it sounded quite faint, there came a shout—
“Ahoy! Poole!”