“You ought to have seen them by this time. What are they doing?”
“Cooking,” said Ned laconically.
“What!” cried Chris in astonishment.
“Well, I’m not sure they’re cooking, but they’ve made a fire.”
“Where—where? I say: no nonsense. Can you really see them?”
“No, but I can see the smoke of a fire curling up, and their horses are grazing just at the edge of the forest part where the long grass begins.”
“Your eye must have grown worse and worse,” said Chris, with grim humour, as he crawled up alongside of his companion. “It must be very bad indeed, or you couldn’t see all that. Let’s have a look.”
“Keep your head down, mind,” said Ned, handing the glass.
“Oh, that’s all right; they couldn’t tell heads from stones at this distance. You must have been dreaming, Ned; I can’t see smoke or horses.”
“You’re not looking in the right direction; bear round more to the left.”