Part 56 (2/2)
”That's too bad,” said Saxe drowsily. ”I did find the crystal cave.”
”So you did, Saxe, and it is too bad. Never mind, my lad. You've done well. Once more--good night.”
Was it the next minute after saying that?
Saxe was not sure, but it seemed to be directly, though it could not have been, for instead of being twilight it was now quite dark.
”What is he doing?” thought Saxe, as he heard the faint sound of moving about. The canvas door of the little tent was open, for he could feel the cool night air blowing in upon his face, with the crisp, bracing sensation of wind off the snow-capped mountains.
Saxe lay still listening. He was very sleepy, and now, as he came to the conclusion that it must be close upon daybreak, and Dale had risen to light the fire and make coffee so that they might start for the ravine as early as possible, he determined to lie perfectly still and feign sleep till the last minute, and a sharp summons bade him rise.
It is that last bit of snooze which is so enjoyable. One goes to bed because it is time, and after a good deal of waiting sometimes one goes to sleep; but it is not the delicious, easy-going sleep of the last half-hour in the morning--a sleep so enticing to most people: at all events, boys feel as if they would barter all the rest of the night for that half-hour--the last before rising.
The rustling went on, and Dale went out, only to come in again.
”How stupid it is getting up so soon!” said Saxe to himself. ”It's all very well when you've to cross a pa.s.s before the snow melts; but to be always getting up when it is cold and dark, and sitting down s.h.i.+vering to your breakfast, when you might be quite warm in the suns.h.i.+ne if you started at decent time, is so absurd.”
He lay thinking.
”He doesn't seem to have lit the fire yet, for I can't hear it crackling,” he said to himself after a time. ”Perhaps he'll rouse me up directly to light it. Bother the old fire! I hate lighting fires. Oh, it does make me feel so cross to be roused up when one hasn't had enough. I haven't half done. I could go on sleeping for hours, and enjoy it, and get up all the better for it, and be stronger and more ready to climb afterwards. No wonder I feel a bit tired sometimes!”
Saxe had no difficulty about lying still, for every limb seemed to be fast asleep. It was only his head that felt as if he was awake, and that only half.
The moving went on; but no fire crackled, and he was not roused up.
”What can he be doing?” thought Saxe sleepily. ”I don't know. It must be packing up for our start. Let's see, when will Melchior be back?
This morning, I suppose. Wish he was here now to light the fire. He's so used to it--he does it so well; and then, he always makes such delicious coffee, that I enjoy my breakfast far better than when we make it ourselves, or Mr Dale makes it, and--Yes, all right!”
”'Wake, Saxe? Sure?”
”Yes, quite awake.”
”I'll get you to light the fire this morning, my lad: one of my arms feels a little strained.”
Dale drew the canvas door aside and stepped out, while Saxe lay wondering how it was that it was quite dark one moment, when Dale was moving about, and broad daylight the next.
”I must have been asleep,” he exclaimed. ”But what was he doing that he hasn't lit the fire? How strange!”
Saxe sat up and rubbed his eyes and yawned; then leisurely slipped on the jacket and handkerchief he had taken off before lying down; and the more wakeful he grew the more puzzled he became, till a happy thought occurred to him.
”I know,” he said: ”It wasn't getting-up time. His arm hurt him in the night, and he was walking about on account of the pain. I wish I had spoken to him. Too late now. Never mind; I'll make haste, and get him a cup of coffee.”
Saxe bustled about, and soon had the fire crackling and the coffee kettle full of fresh cold water over the bright flame.
It was daylight, but some time yet to sunrise, and the air was very cool, but Saxe hardly felt it in his busy preparations; and he was eagerly watching the kettle when Dale came back.
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