“Me velly solly,” he said, “white sahib no be mad. You come see me some time, eh?”
“Yes, we’ll come and see you when you’re in your little casket or else get our lives insured first, you—you anarchist you!” sputtered Tubby.
The engineer had advised them not to climb the ladders but to walk along the foot of the dam till they reached a place where a flight of steps had been moulded in the concrete. Accordingly, after leaving him they trudged along at the foot of the gigantic stone cliff, looking up every now and then to marvel at its height and massiveness.
They found plenty to look at and were in no hurry. That is, none of them was in a hurry but Tubby, who was keen to find out if it was not time to go back to Mr. Mainwaring’s bungalow for dinner.
It was hot work walking, and they paused frequently. At length they came to a place where a small tree at the foot of the dam afforded a patch of shade.
“Let’s sit down and rest a while,” said Fred. “I’m tuckered out.”
“Wish this was a cocoanut tree,” said Tubby as they reclined in the grateful bit of shade. “I’d climb it and get all you fellows something to eat.”
“Or blow us up,” laughed Fred mischievously.
“Say, fellows,” said Rob presently, “look up above us on the top of the dam. There’s a big concrete mixing machine up there.”
“Hope they don’t drop anything down on us,” said Fred apprehensively.