The weather was splendid, although the heat was great. But the double row of trees along the avenue barred the sun's rays with their dense foliage. It was just a pleasant trip along the shore, with the sea upon the right hand and the country on the left.
A start was made about eleven o'clock so as to allow of a whole afternoon's rest at Falconhurst and a return in time for dinner. The two families had not stayed at Wood Grange this year, nor yet at Prospect Hill or the hermitage at Eberfurt, because these farmsteads required enlargements which would not be undertaken until the Unicorn came back. The arrival of new colonists would probably necessitate other changes in the Promised Land.
After leaving the kitchen garden and crossing Jackal River by Family Bridge, the party went along the avenue of fruit trees, which had grown with tropical luxuriance.
There was no need to hurry, as an hour would take them to Falconhurst. The dogs, Brownie and Fawn, gambolled in front. On either hand fields of maize, millet, oats, wheat, barley, cassava, and sweet potatoes displayed their rich stores. The second harvest promised to be a good one, without taking into account that which would be reaped on the land farther to the north, irrigated from Swan Lake.
"It was a fine idea to utilise that water from Jackal River, which until then was wasted, since the sea had no need of it!" Jack remarked thoughtfully to Mr. Wolston.
Every few hundred yards a halt was made, and the talk was resumed with new enjoyment. Hannah gathered some of the pretty flowers whose perfume scented the whole avenue. Hundreds of birds fluttered among the branches laden with fruit and leaves. Game of all kinds sped across the meadow lands, hares, rabbits, grouse, hazel-hens, snipe. Neither Ernest nor Jack had been allowed to bring a gun, and it seemed as if the winged tribe knew this.
Before they had started Mme. Zermatt, seconded by Hannah, had urged the point.
"I beg," she said, "I beg that to-day all these unoffending creatures may be spared."
Ernest had agreed with good grace. He had no burning desire to shine as a hunter. But Jack had protested. To go out without his gun, if he were to be believed, was like being deprived of an arm or a leg.
"I can take it, even if I don't use it," he said. "I promise not to fire, not even if a covey of partridges gets up within half-a-dozen yards."