“Now,” remarked Paul, when he had finished dinner, “I will strengthen my bow before starting, for it does not send the arrows with sufficient force, and the only way to do that, that I can think of, is to shorten it.”
“And I will feather the last arrow I made,” said Oliver, drawing the shaft in question out of his quiver.
“Well, as my bow and bolts are all ship-shape and in perfect order, I will ramble to the top of the ridge before us and take a look out ahead.”
So saying the captain departed, and the other two were soon so deeply absorbed in their work and in conversation about future plans that they had almost forgotten him when a loud shout caused them to start up. On looking towards the ridge they beheld Captain Trench tossing his arms wildly in the air, and shouting and gesticulating violently.
“Sees savages, I think,” said Paul.
“Or gone mad!” cried Olly.
Catching up their arms, the two ran hastily to the top of the ridge, where they arrived perspiring and panting, to find that their excitable comrade had only gone into ecstasies about the magnificent scenery that had burst upon his sight.