They pressed on across the common with a distant fir coppice for their landmark and goal. Such a place meant a comfortable bed for the night, and as soon as they gained its shelter Chippy cried halt, and forbade Dick to stir another step.
'It's been gettin' wuss and wuss lately,' said Chippy. 'Ye don't say a word, an' ye try to step out just as usual, but it's gettin' wuss an' wuss.'
'Oh, I don't mind admitting it's a trifle sore,' said Dick, 'but it will be all right in the morning.'
'Hope so,' said Chippy. 'Now you just drop straight down on that bank, an' I'll do th' odd jobs.'
Dick protested, but the Raven was not to be moved. He forced his chum to stretch himself on a warm, grassy bank while he made the preparations for camping that night. A short distance away a rushy patch betokened the presence of water. Dick pointed it out. 'I'll go over there and wash my foot,' he said.
'Right,' said Chippy, 'an' dab some more o' that fat on the cut.'
Dick found a little pool in the marshy place, and the cool water was very pleasant to his wounded foot, which had now become sore and aching. When he returned, Chippy was emerging from the coppice with armfuls of bedding; he had found a framework in the rails of a broken fence which had once bounded the firwood.
'Here, Chippy, I can lend a hand at that,' said Dick. 'There's no particular moving about in that job.'
'Aw' right,' said the Raven; 'then I'll set plenty o' stuff to yer hand an' see about the fire.'
Chippy soon had a fire going, and a heap of dry sticks gathered to feed it. A short distance away a big patch of gorse had been swaled in the spring. It had been a very partial affair, and the strong stems stood blackened and gaunt, but unburned. Thither went Chippy with the little axe, and worked like a nigger, hacking down stem after stem, and dragging them across until he had a pile of them also.