THE MARCH RESUMED
'Here's a jolly morning, Chippy!' cried Dick, unrolling himself from
his blanket and springing to his feet. 'The sun's hot already. We're
going to have another splendid day.'
The Raven sprang up in turn, and the scouts shook out their blankets,
and tossed them across a furze-bush close at hand to air before they
packed them away. The fire had burned down, but they soon revived it
by tossing armfuls of their bed upon it, and in a couple of minutes the
larch needles were crackling by thousands as the flames ran through the
tindery tips. The logs were carried back, and carefully replaced on
the heap from which they had been taken.
Next they went down to the river, stripped, plunged into the clear,
cool stream, and swam about like a couple of young otters. There were
no towels in the outfit, so when they came to land again they rubbed
off as much water as they could with their handkerchiefs, and finished
drying by turning about fifty Catherine-wheels on a sunny patch of the
bank. When they were dressed again, they were glowing with warmth,
felt as fit as a fiddle, and were ravening for breakfast.
'What's the bill of fare, cook?' laughed Dick.
'Bread, tea, an' trout,' growled Chippy, 'an' a nailin' good brekfus
too. I wish as everybody 'ad got as good.'
'Right for you, old boy,' replied Dick; 'which trout shall we have?'
'Yourn, the big un,' replied the Raven. 'I'll show yer how to cook 'im
proper.'
The fire had burned away to the glowing embers which the camp cook
loves, and Chippy, having gutted the fish, broiled it in the hot ashes,
while Dick boiled water, and made the tea, and cut more slices from the
loaf.
Then they attacked the broiled trout, and, big as it was, they made it
look rather foolish before they had finished. The piece that was left
Chippy wrapped up in dock-leaves and stowed away in the haversack.
'Come in handy next go,' he remarked.
After breakfast they sat for an hour to see the fire out, and Chippy
took the line from the rod and put it away.
Then they got into marching trim again, took their staves in their
hands, and set off up the valley. Twice or thrice they looked back at
the spot where they had made their first camp, but soon a spinney hid
it from their view.
'Good old spot,' said Dick. 'I shall never forget it. It was a jolly
good camp for a start, Chippy.'
'Yus,' agreed the Raven, 'spite o' the jackass. Theer he is.'
There he was indeed, a placid brown-coated old donkey, cropping the
grass on the common on which he had been turned out. The boys gave him
a cheer, and the donkey, when he heard their shout, lifted his head and
brayed long and sonorously, as if he understood all about it, and was
eager to reply.
Tuesday morning's march was fairly uneventful. The comrades did quite
a number of good turns for people, for, like good scouts, their eyes
were always on the watch for anyone who needed a helping hand, and
Chippy commented on the number of chances which turned up.
'Rum, ain't it?' he remarked; 'afore I wor a scout, I never used to
twig how many chances there are o' lendin' a hand. I s'pose they wor'
theer, only I ne'er seed 'em.'
'That's about it,' said Dick. 'I've noticed just the same thing
myself. Doing your work as a scout teaches you how to keep your eyes
open.'
Midday brought them to the edge of a wide stretch of heath country,
where they were quite at home. They halted as soon as they reached the
heath, built their fire, and made a good meal on the smaller trout, the
remains of the big one, the remains of the loaf, and a billy of tea.
The afternoon journey lay directly across the great, lonely track, and
they only saw two or three small hamlets, dwellings of broom-squires,
heath- and furze-cutters, or squatters. As the afternoon wore on the
sky began to wear an ominous look. The scouts had seen several signs
that rain was near. For one thing, a very sure sign, distant ridges
had shown themselves sharply clear in the afternoon sunshine, and had
looked far nearer then they were. Now great blue-black clouds began to
roll slowly up the western sky.
'Going to be a rough night, Chippy,' said the Wolf.
'No mistake, Dick,'replied his companion; 'it'll be too wet for the
open to-night. We'll have to look for shelter.'
'If we can only do a turn for someone and get permission to sleep in
the hayloft,' went on Dick, 'that would be first-rate. We don't want
to spend money on lodgings.'
'Soon bust the ten bob that way,' grunted Chippy.' 'Look, theer's a
village right ahead, wi' trees an' fields. We'll be out o' the he'th
soon. P'raps we can manage it there.'
The scouts pushed on steadily. They did not know it, but an adventure
awaited them which would settle the question of the night's lodging.