Fiam as a Mountain Climber
CHAPTER XII FIAM AS A MOUNTAIN CLIMBER
Twice more during that long journey I thought I had lost Fiam. Each time it was on account of that hole in his box through which he crawled out to ramble, and which he couldn’t always find on his way back.
One morning in a Chinese village, where I had passed the night, just as I was mounting my horse to ride out to the army I discovered that Fiam had disappeared.
I looked everywhere, especially among my postage stamps, but couldn’t find him.
In the afternoon as I lay under a tree in the stillness of a deserted field I thought I heard his little voice.
“Fiam! Fiam!” I called.
I could make out the response distinctly:
“Miferino! Miferino!”
As I was warm I had taken off my waistcoat to use as a pillow as I lay stretched out. The voice came from that.