Surajah descended, threw another armful of wood
on to the fire, placed their meat in the crutch of a bough, six feet
above the ground, and then climbed the tree again. Thus, they were
soon lying, side by side, in their blankets. These bagged rather
inconveniently under their weight, but they were too tired to mind
trifles, and were very soon fast asleep.
Dick did not wake until Surajah called him. It was already broad
daylight. His companion had slipped down quietly, stirred up the
embers of the fire, thrown on more wood, and cooked some chupatties
before waking him.
"It is too bad, Surajah," Dick said, as he looked down; "you ought to
have woke me. I will unfasten these blankets before I get down. It
will save time after breakfast."
Half an hour later, they were again on their way, and shortly came
upon a boy herding some goats. He looked doubtfully at them, but,
seeing that they were not Mysorean soldiers, he did not attempt to
fly.
"How far is it to the next village, lad?" Surajah asked; "and which is
the way? We are shikarees. Are there any tigers about?"
"Plenty of them," the boy said. "I drive the goats to a strong, high
stockade every evening; and would not come out, before the sun rose,
for all the money they say the sultan has.
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