“Why, of course it does,” said Joses, with a low chuckling laugh. “If I wasn’t to grumble, that would all be in my mind making me sour, so I gets rid of it as soon as I can.”
That night passed without adventure, and, starting at daybreak the next morning, they found a fine open stretch of plain before them, beyond which, blue and purple in the distance, rose the mountains, and these were looked upon as their temporary destination, for Dr Lascelles was of opinion that here he might discover something to reward his toils.
The day was so hot and the journey so arduous, that upon getting to the farther side of the plain, with the ground growing terribly broken and rugged as they approached the mountain slopes, a suitable spot was selected, and the country being apparently quite free from danger, the tent was set up, and the quarters made snug for two or three days’ rest, so that the Doctor might make a good search about the mountain chasms and ravines, and see if there were any prospect of success.
The place reached was very rugged, but it had an indescribable charm from the varied tints of the rocks and the clumps of bushes, with here and there a low scrubby tree, some of which proved to be laden with wild plums.
“Why, those are wild grapes too, are they not?” said Bart, pointing to some clustering vines which hung over the rocks laden with purpling berries.
“That they be,” said Joses; “and as sour as sour, I’ll bet. But I say, Master Bart, hear that?”
“What! that piping noise?” replied Bart. “I was wondering what it could be.”
“I’ll tell you, lad,” said Joses, chuckling. “That’s young wild turkeys calling to one another, and if we don’t have a few to roast it shan’t be our fault.”
The Doctor was told of the find, and after all had been made snug, it was resolved to take guns and rifles, and search for something likely to prove an agreeable change.
“For we may as well enjoy ourselves, Bart, and supply Madam Maude here with a few good things for our pic-nic pot.”