CHAPTER XXVIII 



FORTY WINKS 



THE next morning we hurry back to the same spot, 

 but of course no bear to be seen as far as the eye 

 can reach or our legs can carry us. At last the 

 midday heat forces us to give up the search. 



I empty out the contents of my thermos apparatus : 

 chicken with rice ! How delicious this might be ! 

 But this pappy mixture ! Rice and " rice," chicken 

 and " chicken," the soul of man and the " soul of 

 man " separated from each other by a world-wide 

 gulf! 



" Ram Sheik, you big-mouthed boaster, soulless, 

 narrow-minded cook ! You can only boil boil 

 things to bits ! " 



86 



