It was a pleasant time, and neither of us was in a hurry to commence work, the attractions were so many.
“It’s so different to being in streets in London,” Esau was always saying. “There it’s all people, and you can hardly cross the roads for the ’busses and cabs. Here it’s all so still, and I suppose you might go on wandering in the woods for ever and never see a soul.”
It almost seemed as if that might be the case, and a curious feeling of awe used to come over me when we wandered up one of the little valleys, and were seated in the bright sunshine upon some moss-cushioned rock, listening to the murmur of the wind high up in the tall pines—a sound that was like the gentle rushing of the sea upon the shore.
Mr Raydon generally asked us where we had been, and laughed at our appetites.
“There, don’t be ashamed, Mayne,” he said, as he saw me look abashed; “it is quite natural at your age. Eat away, my lad, and grow muscular and strong. I shall want your help some day, for we are not always so quiet and sleepy as you see us now.”
I had good reason to remember his words, though I little thought then what a strange adventure was waiting to fall to my lot.