We advanced very cautiously, with our eyes searching the ground, but there was nothing in sight, and after selecting a comfortable place where the sand had slowly been washed down from the bluff till it lay thick and dry as when it is drifted on the seashore, we sat down, the fine grains feeling delightful to our limbs, and made a hearty meal of the remains left in the wallet.
It was wonderfully still there, the trees being quite motionless, and the only sounds heard being the hum of some insect and the ripple of the water a dozen yards away. High above us through the thin tracery of an overhanging tree the sky looked of a brilliant blue, and away to left and right extended the forest.
Pomp was lying face downwards, lazily scooping a hole in the sand, and watching it trickle back as fast as he scraped it away, just as if it were so much dry water in grains. I was lying on my back where the sand sloped up to the bank; and as I gazed at the trees, half expecting to see our boat sticking somewhere up among the branches, it seemed to me as if I had never felt so happy and contented before. Perhaps it was the soft, clear atmosphere, or the fact that I was resting, or that I had just partaken of a pleasant meal. I don’t know. All I can say is that everything felt peaceful and restful; even Pomp, who as a rule was like a piece of spring in motion. There was a lovely pale blue haze in the distance, and a warm golden glow nearer at hand; the sun was getting well to the west; and I knew that we must soon start and walk fast, so as to get back, but I did not feel disposed to move for a few minutes.
We should be able to walk so much better after a rest, I thought, and we should not stop to look for the boat, or at anything, but keep steadily walking on, so that it would not take us a quarter of the time; and if night did come on, the moon would rise early, and we could easily get to the house.
How deliriously faint and blue that looked right away there in the distance, and how still it all was! Even Pomp enjoyed the silence, and I would not disturb him yet, but let him rest too. No fear of any snakes coming if we were there, and in a few minutes I’d jump up, tell Pomp, and we’d go and have a delicious bathe, and dry ourselves in the warm sand; that would make us walk splendidly. But I would not wake him yet—not just yet—I’d wake him presently, for he was so still that he must have gone to sleep. There he lay with his face to the sand, and his fingers half buried in the hole he had been scraping.
“What a fellow he is to snooze!” I thought to myself. “Lucky I’m not so ready to go to sleep. How—how long shall I wait before I wake him?—How long—how long—how—”
Chapter Twenty Five.
A jerk! Then a hasty movement. I must have left the window open, and a fly or a beetle had got in and was tickling my ear. Now it was on my cheek—then on the other cheek—my neck again—my ear—my eyes—and now—