Chapter Fifteen.
Bird-Nesting under Difficulties.
“What shall we do?” said Kenneth.
Just as he spoke, Max made a jump and turned nimbly round, for Sneeshing, who had not been touched by Donald’s stone, had come fidgeting round them, and had had a sniff at the visitor’s legs.
“I say, Max, there must be something very nice about your legs,” cried Kenneth, laughing. “Don’t set the dog at me, please.”
“I didn’t. It’s only his way. Here, what shall we do—fish?”
“Not to-day,” said Max, giving involuntarily a rub of one white leg against the other.
“Well, let’s go and have a shot at something.”
“I think I would rather not,” pleaded Max, who looked with horror upon the idea of tramping the mountain side clothed as he was. “What do you say to a sail, then?”