"O, no," I answered, with an indifferent air.
"Well, as you are not tired, and night is the best time to travel, suppose we keep on until daylight?"
"I'll be —— if I do," broke in Fred. "I've got a great blister now, on my great toe, bigger than a silver dollar, and my boot seems inclined to raise others. I'll tell you what it is, Smith, for the last two months we've been on shipboard, and not walked five miles during that time, and if you think we can compete with you as a pedestrian, you are mistaken."
Fred jerked out his words as though each step he took cost him an immense amount of pain, and I've no doubt it did. The convict laughed silently, and relieved his feelings by cracking his long whip, bringing the end of the lash to bear with great precision upon the flanks of the leading yoke of cattle, which testified their appreciation of his attention by kicking at the heads of those following; and as such playful amusement was calculated to inspire vitality in the animals, they started off with renewed speed, and Fred and myself, with many groans, limped after.
"I can't stand this," cried my companion, after a few minutes' brisk walk. "My feet are raw, and getting worse every moment. I'll try an experiment."
He sat down in the middle of the road, and while the team rolled on, jerked off his boots and stockings, and declared, as we hastened to overtake Smith, that he felt he could walk all night, and that hereafter he would go barefooted.
"Well," cried Smith, as we reached the team, "how do you feel now?"
"Fresh as a daisy," returned Fred, clapping his boots together as though they were a pair of cymbals.
"What have you got in your hands?" asked Smith; for, it being already dark, it was hard to distinguish objects at a short distance.
"My boots," cried Fred, triumphantly.