“And pray who is to protect your mother and sisters and aunt, eh?” said the captain. “No; go and have your jaunt, and as soon as you cross the range mark down any good site for stations.”
“Oh, Edward dear,” cried Mrs Bedford, “you will not go farther into the wilderness?”
“No,” he said, smiling; “but it would be pleasant to be able to tell some other adventurer where to go.”
“I know what they’ve forgotten,” said Ida, mischievously, and on purpose—“soap.”
“Wrong again, Miss Clever,” cried Norman. “We’ve got everything but sailing orders. Good-bye all.”
“You will take care, my dears,” cried Mrs Bedford, who looked pale and anxious.
“Every care possible, mother dear,” cried the lad, affectionately; “and if Tim and Rifle don’t behave themselves, I’ll give ’em ramrod and kicks till they do.—Now, father, Tam o’ Shanter’s looking back again. Shall we start?”
“You’ve forgotten something important.”
“No, father, we haven’t, indeed.”
“You talked about sailing orders, and you are going to start off into the wilds where there isn’t a track. Pray, where is your compass?”