We watched the pair as they went up the glade, and turned to our
breakfast. The meal over, my father proposed to me to return to the
creek and fetch up a three days' supply of provisions from the ship,
leaving Mr. Fett and Billy Priske to guard the camp. (In our
confidence of finding the valley inhabited, we had brought but two
pounds of ship's biscuit, one-third as much butter, and a small keg
only of salt pork.)
We were absent, maybe, for two hours and a half; and on our way back
fell in with Billy, who, having suffered no ill effects from his
breakfast of mushrooms (though he had eaten them under protest), was
roaming the meadow in search of more. We asked him if the two
explorers had returned.
He answered "No," and that Mr. Fett had strolled up into the wood in
search of chestnuts, leaving him sentry over the camp.
"And is it thus you keep sentry?" my father demanded.
"Why, master, since this valley has no more tenantry than Sodom or
Gomorrah, cities of the plain--" Billy began confidently; but his
voice trailed off under my father's frown.
"You have done ill, the pair of you," said my father, and strode
ahead of us across the meadow.
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