They travelled on as on the previous day, the scenery being sometimes very picturesque—the prickly palm, and cocoa-nut trees, and numberless shrubs with long waving leaves. Sometimes thickets of the graceful bamboo lined either side of the road; but persons, when carried off as prisoners, are not generally apt to admire the beauty of the scenery. Sunshine Bill, however, was not to be put down.
“It’s one way of seeing the world that I did not expect, when I left home,” he remarked to Jack Windy. “I shall have many more yarns to spin, when I get back, in consequence. Now, Tommy, look out where you are going to. You have nearly brought the mule down two or three times; and the next time we get off, I must sit ahead and steer.”
They brought up at another village, where the sergeant procured some messes of boiled meal, such as they had had for supper.
“If it had not been for that kind gentleman, I don’t know where we should have been by this time,” said Jack. “We should have been desperately hungry, I know. Howsumdever, when we are once settled, I suppose we shall be able to get sufficient grub to keep body and soul together.”
At length the prisoners arrived at a wretched-looking village, though picturesquely situated with hills rising round it.
“Halt here,” said the sergeant, “while I go and inquire what quarters are to be assigned to you.”
“Nothing very grand,” he said, with a laugh, when he returned. “Follow me!”
“Why,” said Mr Collinson, “the authorities cannot think of putting us into a place like that. It is a stable!”
“Very likely; but there’s only one old horse in it, and there are three stalls: you can have one, monsieur, all to yourself, and your men can have he other. What more can you desire?”
All expostulations were vain.