"Well, we should have had to start to-night, or to-morrow, so it only
means that we have come away in a hurry and meet him all the sooner."
"To be sure," said the boy, eagerly.
"You won't mind going without your dinner?"
"Of course not," cried Phil, stoutly.
"And if we have to sleep in a barn or shed somewhere to-night instead of
a comfortable bed, you won't mind that either, will you?"
"Not a bit," cried Phil. "Let's sleep in the forest, and cut down
boughs and pick leaves for a bed. It would be fun. I should like it."
"To be sure you would."
"Wouldn't you, Dr Martin?"
"That I should, my boy," cried the Doctor, who was still eagerly
searching the fields and meadows broken up by patches of forest. "Look
here, Phil; we want to get away, as your father wishes, from all this
terrible war, so we'll put all lessons aside and think of nothing but
making this a holiday excursion amongst the fields and woods; and when
we get tired we'll sit down on a tree trunk and rest, and if the sun is
too hot we will have a nap in the shade. Sometimes we shall be
thirsty."
"And then we'll lie down on the bank of a river and drink," cried Phil,
clapping his hands.
"To be sure--drink the beautiful clear water. We can sleep, too, in the
fir woods. The soft fir needles make a beautiful aromatic bed."
"What's aromatic?" said Phil, with his eyes sparkling.
"Sweet-scented and spicy."
"I shall like that," cried the boy; "only won't the fir needles prick
when we undress?"
"But we shan't undress, my boy."
"What fun! Father will laugh when I tell him by and by. But you don't
say a word about what we are to eat, Dr Martin?"
"Oh, we shall find something to eat. Why, we might catch some fish
perhaps in the streams."
"Yes," cried Phil, excitedly.
"And make a fire and bake them in the hot ashes."
"To be sure," cried Phil, clapping his hands again.
"Sometimes, too, we may be able to dig up a few potatoes."
"And roast them."
"Of course. You'll like making a fire."
"I shall," cried the boy, with emphasis.
"Then we can call at a farm sometimes and buy some bread and milk and--"
"I say, Dr Martin, this _is_ going to be a holiday. Which way are we
going?"
"Straight away yonder, my boy--south, towards the British possessions."
"Make haste then. Take hold of my hand and let's run like father calls
double. Let's get to that river we drove to in the car months ago."
"Yes, we might go that way," said the Doctor, thoughtfully. "But why
did you choose that route?"
"Because I want to catch some fish for dinner."
"Without hook or line?"
"I shall go into the shallow, where we can see them, and splash them out
with my hands."
"To be sure, or perhaps spear one with a long, sharp stick."
"Yes, I'll try that. Oh, do let's go on at once. I want to begin."
"Very well," said the Doctor, after a long, anxious look round. "You go
first, and I'll follow."
"Let's walk fast," said Phil.
"Yes, let's walk fast," replied the Doctor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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