“You shall satisfy it, then. To-morrow we’ll go back and fetch all our traps, and then come over here again; for I do not think we can get a better part for our search. Come, Saxe, wake up.”
But there was no reply: Saxe was sleeping with all his might after the tremendous exertions of the day.
Chapter Fifteen.
Caught in a Trap.
The mist on the mountain had not been without its meaning, and a heavy persistent rain kept them all the next day close in under the shelter of the rock, where the fire had to be lighted too, and after a great deal of difficulty this was accomplished by Melchior getting a few stout dead branches and bringing them under cover.
These he whittled into shavings, and these shavings served to start the green pine boughs which had formed their beds; and once a pretty good glow was obtained, with plenty of embers, the wetness of the branches brought under cover mattered very little, especially as the guide ranged them close to the fire to dry, ready against they were required; and had contrived that the blinding smoke should sweep right out at once, a few broad branched boughs stuck in the ground or propped upright helping to establish a draught.
The feeling of restfulness and the hot coffee were sufficient to make the first hour tolerable, in spite of the constant dripping of the trees and the rush of water down from the natural eaves of their shelter; but after a time it began to grow monotonous.
The outlook was not extensive either, for beyond the thick driving rain the hollows were filled with dense mist, and the mountains around were quite invisible; and Saxe turned from gazing out between two little shoots of water to look rather appealingly at Dale.