“I don’t know about gumption, Ned; but it’s the same with flowers. They grow thin and poor on rocks and stones, and rich and luxuriant on good moist soils, and— Hallo! where are the others? we mustn’t be left behind.”
“Oh, we’re all right, sir. They’re only just ahead, and we can’t lose ourselves, because all we’ve got to do is to go back along by the trickling water here. I’ll shout if you like.”
“Oh no; I could blow my whistle, but I don’t want to, because it would startle the doctor. He’d think there was something wrong.”
“Don’t whistle him, sir. Here’s a nice comfortable bit o’ rock here; would you like to sit down?”
“You’re tired, Ned,” said Jack quickly.
“Am I, sir? Well, I dunno—p’r’aps you’re right. I s’pose I am a bit fagged. Legs don’t seem to go quite so well as they used. If you wouldn’t mind, I think I should like just ten minutes’ rest to freshen me up a bit.”
“Sit down then.”
“After you, sir.”
“Very well: there. No, sit down—or, better still, lie down on your back.”
“Make the things about puzzled, and want to know what I am. I shall be having snakes and lizards going for a walk up my arms and legs, sir. But I don’t know as I mind for a bit—I’ll risk it.”