“We’re only going to fetch up more stores and the tent, Pete. We must bring an axe, too, and make a shed.”
“Then we’re coming back?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, that’s all right, then, Master Nat. I did think it a pity to run away again as soon as we’d found this place.”
The sun was only just up when after a good breakfast we started to find our way back to the entrance of the cave where we had set off upon our dark journey; and, taking a course which he had marked out from the high ground, my uncle led the way so well that by afternoon we struck the stream again, not by the mouth of the cavern, but miles below it, so that as soon as we could find a way down to its bank we retraced our way, and reached the anchored and well-moored boat long before dark.
Our task now was simple. The loads we were to take up the mountain-gorge were prepared, and next morning, heavily laden, we started with the intention of staying in the neighbourhood of the upper river for a week certain.
It was a hard task, laden as we were, but we managed to reach the camping-place with our heavy loads just at nightfall, one and all completely done up, and content to eat a morsel of food before lying down to sleep at once.
“It’s very fortunate for us that the country is quite uninhabited,” I remember thinking, as I lay down and revelled in the restful sensation afforded by the soft dry sand, part of a heap which had crumbled from the side of the ravine in the course of ages.
I remember no more till I was awakened by Pete, who announced breakfast, and I stared confusedly in the light of the early dawn at the bright fire, and wondered where I was.
That morning the tent was set up, and a rough shed was cleverly made by Cross, who seemed to glory in showing us how easily he could contrive a good shelter in case we should be overtaken by a tropical storm.