“I think my aunt and my husband will have hammocks,” said Lady Dumaresq, “and I fancy your daughter inclined to that method also. I don’t know whether I can make up my mind to try one. I think I have a greater fancy for a horse.”
“It seems rather cruel work being carried by human bearers,” said Miss Adene. “I did not like it at all at first, but I got used to it. And as they say, it is the men’s livelihood. If visitors do not take hammocks, the bearers starve.”
“We’ll have horses,” cried Ronald, including himself, Sheila, Lady Dumaresq and little Guy in his glance. “Yes, I’ve seen Susa, and he’s got a good little pony, and the boy’s donkey saddle will fit on all right. We’ll take him along with us. The man will walk alongside all the time. Oh, he’ll be as safe as a tree! He’ll like it awfully, won’t you, boy?”
Guy cut capers and clapped his hands. He was a perfectly fearless morsel of humanity, and had ridden the old donkey at home ever since he could get his little legs across its broad back. At nearly four he was wild to have a pony and go with Uncle Ronald and Sheila, and they were equally eager to have him.
When Mr. and Mrs. Cossart went back to the hotel, it was in a more complaisant mood than they had left it.
“You see, my dear,” he said, “they are quite friendly to us.”
“Oh, yes, that is all right enough; but all the same I am not satisfied with the way things are going. I mean to make this excursion to Camacha something of a test case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know what I mean myself. I mean to keep my eyes well open, and you can do the same. If I am not satisfied with what I see, I have quite made up my mind what to do.”
“And what is that?” asked her husband rather uneasily.