The Overlanders were startled at this juncture by a shout from the Chinaman, accompanied by a series of bangs.
“Somebody knocked over the kitchen table!” cried Chunky.
“Me savvy piecee kettle go ’way,” wailed Woo, who, in emptying out some dishes, had let them fall over the side of the ridge so that the utensils were then on their way to the bottom of the canyon, a thousand feet below.
“He has lost the kettle,” groaned Nora. “At this rate we shall soon be without anything.”
“Except our appetites,” finished Chunky.
“What a tragedy,” observed Emma.
“Don’t wolly till to-mollow,” advised the guide. “Hi-lee, hi-lo!” Nothing could disturb the equanimity of Woo Smith for very long, and he immediately resumed his duties. The loss of a few utensils was not a thing to be greatly disturbed about—at least he so reasoned the matter out.
It was late in the evening when the Overlanders finally got into their trenches and dropped off to sleep, but their sleep was brief. First, Stacy had a nightmare and set up such a howling that all hands awakened in alarm. The next disturbance came when a sudden mountain wind-storm sprang up. The Overlanders were aroused just in time to see their campfire lifted into the air and hurled out over the clouds in which the embers and sparks quickly disappeared.
“Oh, this is terrible! We shall surely be blown off the ridge,” cried Emma.
“Lie down in your trenches and let the blooming storm blow itself out!” shouted Hippy. “No wind-storm up here can harm you so long as you keep down.”