“And you’re sure you’re not too heavy for Bosun?” said Bosun’s owner, doubtfully, looking at Jim’s long figure.
“I thought that had something to do with it,” Jim grinned. “Don’t you worry, my child; I won’t squash your pretty pet!” To which Norah responded by turning up an already tilted nose, and proceeding to unpack the lunch valise, which had bumped somewhat cruelly on Warder’s saddle all the morning, considerably to the detriment of the hard-boiled eggs.
Lunch was simple; they boiled the billy at a little fire in a green hollow where there was no grass dry enough to risk burning, and drank great quantities of tea in the shade of a big she-oak tree. At first Norah and Jean declared that they were too hot to eat; but they revived considerably after the first fragrant cup, and found Brownie’s sandwiches very good. Then Jim emptied the inconsiderable remains of the tea over the fire and stamped it out carefully, separating the embers; and the two boys took the horses for the drink that could not be allowed them until they had cooled down. After which the girls professed themselves ready to start; but Mr. Linton ordered half an hour’s “smoke-oh,” with a keen eye on two faces that were quite too sun-kissed to look pale, but were certainly a little weary. So they all lay flat in the shade, and all but the squatter went to sleep almost immediately, while he sat propped against the she-oak trunk and smoked lazily. The half-hour had stretched almost to an hour before he woke them.
“Come on, you sleepy-heads!” he said, smiling at them. “Time to get busy.”
“Ugh-h—I’m stiff!” uttered Wally, wriggling, with an agonized countenance. “I think I’ve been tied in a tight knot, judging by my feelings.” A small twig caught him neatly on the back of the neck, and, forgetting his stiffness, he sprang up and gave chase to Jim, who was already at the horses.
“Oh, I’m so hideously hot!” Norah grumbled.
“Or hotly hideous?” called out Jim, who looked provokingly cool.
“Both, I think. All the same, that was a nice sleep. Don’t you feel better, Jean?”
“Heaps,” said Jean, who was busy in removing burrs and fragments of grass from her divided skirt. “At least, I will feel heaps better after I’ve got over feeling as horrible as I do just now.” She pushed the hair away from her eyes. “If only one could have a bathe!”
“We’ll have one to-night, in the lagoon,” Norah told her.