With jest and banter they whiled away the time, but in the course of about half an hour they were chilled to the bone, though they were limp again. The first to get up was Dennis, the lowest, who, with stiffened joints, painfully knelt, then turned round, saying, “How do you feel now, both of—— Great Bona!” he suddenly ejaculated, at the same time remaining with one knee in the water, as though turned to stone, his eyes starting with astonishment, the while his two friends stared at him in wild alarm. They did not remove their gaze from his face for an instant, whilst he gazed at them as though bewitched. Still looking at Dennis, Ross scrambled up and approached him, in doing which he had to pass Gilbert, who was in the middle. In the act of passing, he glanced at him, then stood still, staring first at him and then at Dennis, as if transfixed, whilst Gilbert, at sight of him, was too surprised to make any further effort to rise, but sat where he was in the stream-bed, the water pouring past on each side of him. “Am I mad, or are you?” blurted out Dennis. “I swear you are both as blue as blue-bottle flies!” “I?” queried each of the others, in one breath. “You two are!” “Do you mean to say _I_ am the colour of you two?” exclaimed Ross, in amazement. “If _my_ face is as yours,” uttered Gilbert, despairingly, “I shall die with grief!” “Look at our hands and clothes!” exclaimed Ross, so ruefully that Dennis burst into uncontrollable laughter, sitting back in the stream without noticing it, his friends joining in the mirth till they could laugh no more, and then they all stripped only to find they were dyed from head to foot a brilliant and magnificent blue—hair, skin, nails, as well as clothing. “Well! this _is_ a glorious picnic!” laughed Dennis, boisterously. “It’s all very well to laugh,” remonstrated Ross, himself at the same time laughing heartily, “but the honour of Britain is at stake, and if we meet any natives here, they’ll think us humans a bright lot with this sample before them.” “Oh, don’t! Ross,” pleaded Gilbert, holding his paining sides tightly. “Don’t! don’t, I am sore. I can’t laugh any more, I really can’t!” “Bright lot!” gasped Dennis, in jerks, for speech was painful with excessive laughter; “we _are_ a bright lot, polished like mirrors. For Bona’s sake tell me if my tears are blue, or if they’ve washed any blue off my face! No? Then we are permanently and beautifully blue.” And they had another fit of laughter. “How are we to dry ourselves?” asked Gilbert; “by the time this coating has dried we shall perhaps be stiff again.” “Oh, don’t trouble, Gilbert, old man!” replied Dennis, airily. “We’ll find another stream and soak ourselves red, or green, or something; one or two colours more won’t matter much now!” “I say, you fellows, be serious!” panted Ross. “Think a bit, if you can! Don’t you see that this is beyond a joke? If we come across any folk here, what _will_ they think of us?”