CH. VI.] A Tramp Home in the Wet. loi 



here, I dig there ; I slip and fall on the bank ; 

 the water mixed with yellow clay runs up my 

 arm from the spade, and yet that beastly 

 ferret sleeps peacefully in its warm bed. I 

 lose the hole, come down on roots as thick 

 as my leg and stones that strike fire as the 

 spade strikes them ; and so two hours of dis- 

 comfort to all drift by, and I am just feeling 

 about for the last time with the spike end of 

 the spade, when I again hit off the hole and, 

 opening it out, come upon a nice warm rat's 

 nest made of leaves, with the ferret curled 

 up snugly with a dead rat. 



'* Home, dogs, home ! Cheer up. Jack ! Cold 

 are you, and wet ? Well, never mind ; only 

 two miles, and we will walk fast. Pepper, 

 Pepper, Wasp, Wasp, where on earth have 

 you got to ? Ah, there you are, and a nice 

 mess you have made of yourselves trying to 

 scratch out a hole five hundred yards long. 

 Come along all ! " And off we tramp. Jack 



