Anyhow, Gedge had no sooner given himself his opinions about the heat engendered by walking in a thick, sheepskin coat than Bracy said:
“Find the poshtin hot, Gedge?”
“’Ot ain’t the word for it, sir,” was the reply. “I ain’t quite sure whether it’s me, or whether they didn’t scrape the fat off proper when they tanned the skin, sir; but something’s running.”
“Steady down, then. It is very warm here among the cedars; but they hide us from the enemy, my lad. As soon as we begin to climb we shall be getting out of summer into winter; and by the time it’s dark, and we lie down to sleep, we shall think it would be pleasanter if we had two apiece.”
“Shall us, sir? Well, you know, sir; but all this caps me. Here we are, as you say, in summer, and we’ve on’y got to climb up one o’ them mountains and there we are in winter. They say it freezes there every night.”
“Quite right, Gedge.”
“But all the snow melts away some time in the year?”
“Never, my lad. Up there before you, where the sun shines on those glorious peaks, it is eternal winter, only that there is so much melting in the hottest parts of the day.”
“To make the rivers, sir?”
“Of course!”