The Peril Finders Part 92

"I don't know," said the doctor. "They had a fire burning there last night."

"Yes," said Chris dryly, "I know;" but he did not then attempt to explain how he knew.

"They haven't shown since they felt the effect of our bullets, but they're as cunning as they are treacherous, and one never knows what they may be about."

Some quarter of an hour later the adventurers were all in shelter, one of the cells of the lower range having been turned into a temporary mess-room, while the next showed signs of cooking in the shape of a curling little column of smoke; there was water in buckets outside on the terrace, where, behind a kind of breastwork hastily piled-up, watch was being kept; and well in sight there were the animals of the little train, grazing contentedly enough well within range of the watchers'

rifles.

Chris felt like a hero after the warmth of his welcome was beginning to cool down. He had eaten almost ravenously, and a.s.suaged the great thirst from which he had suffered. But now the great desire from which he suffered was want of sleep, for he was utterly weary and so stiff that he could hardly refrain from uttering a groan.

All the same he had been obliged to relate his adventures once more-- such of them as had not been seen from the valley. But at last he was lying down in the cool shade in one of the cells and dropping off, but only to be aroused by the coming in of Ned, who was eager to hear more.

"You are a lucky one, Chris," he said, in an ill-used tone.

"What!" cried the boy angrily; but the next moment the remark presented such a ludicrous side that he began to laugh, and then, possibly from exhaustion and the result of the exciting pa.s.sages he had gone through, his mirth grew at once almost hysterical, so that he could not check himself.

"Why, what's the matter?" cried Ned wonderingly. "Have I said anything comic?"

"Horribly," panted Chris; "but I do wish you'd go, and let me sleep."

"I will soon," said Ned; "but I don't see what there is to laugh at, unless you feel jolly triumphant at getting all the best of the expedition to yourself."

"I do," said Chris. "It was lovely being shot at with arrows and tumbling down those precipices, better than any dream I ever had."

The boy's face looked mirthful, and Ned did not notice the bitterly sarcastic ring there was in his comrade's words, as he said in an envious tone--

"Well, it's all very fine, but I shall tell father that it isn't fair for you to be made the favourite, and I don't think you've behaved well."

"Don't you?" said Chris, sobering down. "I'm very sorry; but I've done the best I could."

"Perhaps so, but I don't think that if I had lost my pony I could have lain there and grinned as you've done. Poor brute! I almost believe I would rather have died myself."

Chris was perfectly sobered now, and as Ned walked away he lay there in the cool shadow with a peculiar look in his weary eyes, while, far from desiring sleep, he could only lie hot-headed and in feverish pain, thinking of the gallant way in which the pony had galloped to save his life.

It was long before he slept, and when he did it was to go through most of the events of the past night and morning again in feverish dreams.

But at last he slept too heavily for dreams. Nature required rest, and the boy lay breathing in the cool mountain air and sleeping as if he meant to crowd the rest of two nights into one.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

A WELCOME STRONGER.

"Chris!"

"Don't!"

"Chris!" in a louder tone.

"Get out!" very irritably, and the speaker turned sharply over with his face to the stones and his back to the bright suns.h.i.+ne that came through the old window-opening.

"Are you going to sleep here for ever?"

A grunt, accompanied by the kicking out of one leg, which would have taken effect if Ned had not hopped over it.

"I say, are you going to sleep for a week?"

"No! And I'm not asleep now," said Chris, with his eyelids squeezed very close together; "but I tell you what, if you don't be off and leave me alone I'll get up and punch your stupid old head."

"You daren't.--I should like to see you!"

"You soon will, and so I tell you. Be off, or I'll empty the wash-hand jug over you."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Ned. "Where is it?"

"Oh, bother! Be off!"

"Shan't! Do you know it's to-morrow morning?"

"No, I don't, Paddy Bull. How can it be to-morrow when it's to-day?"

There was a grunt very much like a snore.

"Well, of all the old dormice!" muttered Ned. "Chris, you must get up."

"Shan't!"

"But you've been asleep twenty-four hours."

"Look here, stupid," grumbled Chris, without stirring, "if you want to tell a big fib you should always make it as big as you can, or else people won't believe you. Say twenty-four days."

"Why, you unbelieving old humbug! It's the truth. You ate till I was ashamed of you, and then you lay down to sleep about this time yesterday, and here you are now as sleepy as ever. If you don't get up I'll go and tell the doctor you must be ill."

Chris started up into a sitting posture and uttered a cry.

"Oh! I say!--Ugh! I am stiff. I can't hardly move.--What's the matter with me?"

"Slept till you've turned stiff as a log," cried Ned. "Twenty-four hours right off."

"I say, that isn't true, is it?"

"Why, of course it is. Don't you remember lying down?"

"Of course I do. But what time is it?"

"Oh, I don't know about the time, but it's getting on for mid-day."

"Ned! I say, why didn't you wake me up before?"