“Yes, I should,” said Lawrence, uttering another sigh full of relief; “but I am not well. I itch and burn—my neck, my face, my arms.”
“Yes,” said Yussuf sadly, as if speaking of a trouble that was inevitable.
“Is it a fever coming on?”
“Fever?” said Yussuf smiling; “oh, no! the place swarms with nasty little insects. These rugs are full.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated Lawrence, jumping up and giving himself a rub and a shake. “How horrid, to be sure!”
Yussuf would not let him go far from the house, merely led him to a spot where the view was clear, and then let him gaze for a few minutes as the great orange globe rolled up and gilded the mists that lay in the hollows among the hills. Then he returned to the house and prepared the scanty breakfast, of which they partook before going off in search of the missing baggage-horses and their load.
Three hours were consumed in seeking out the spot where the man who had charge of the two animals had gone from his right path. It was very natural for him to have done so, for the road forked here, and he pursued that which seemed the most beaten way. Down here he had journeyed for hours, and when at last he had come to the conclusion that he had gone wrong, instead of turning back he had calmly accepted his fate, unloaded the animals, made himself a fire out of the abundant wood that lay around, and there he waited patiently until he was found.
It was a hindrance so soon after their starting; but Yussuf seemed to set so good an example of patience and forbearance that the professor followed it, and Mr Burne was compelled to accept the position.
“We shall have plenty of such drawbacks,” Mr Preston said; “and we must recollect that we are not in the land of time-tables and express trains.”
“We seem to be in the land of no tables at all, not even chairs,” grumbled Mr Burne; “but there, I don’t complain. Go on just as you please. I’ll keep all my complaints till I get back, and then put them in a big book.”