tunnel while they ate.

"My feet hurt me," grumbled the Ork. "I'm not used to walking and this
rocky passage is so uneven and lumpy that it hurts me to walk upon it."

"Can't you fly along?" asked Trot.

"No; the roof is too low," said the Ork.

After the meal they resumed their journey, which Trot began to fear
would never end. When Cap'n Bill noticed how tired the little girl was,
he paused and lighted a match and looked at his big silver watch.

"Why, it's night!" he exclaimed. "We've tramped all day, an' still
we're in this awful passage, which mebbe goes straight through the
middle of the world, an' mebbe is a circle--in which case we can keep
walkin' till doomsday. Not knowin' what's before us so well as we know
what's behind us, I propose we make a stop, now, an' try to sleep till
mornin'."

"That will suit me," asserted the Ork, with a groan. "My feet are
hurting me dreadfully and for the last few miles I've been limping with
pain."

"My foot hurts, too," said the sailor, looking for a smooth place on
the rocky floor to sit down.

"Your foot!" cried the Ork. "why, you've only one to hurt you, while I
have four. So I suffer four times as much as you possibly can. Here;
hold the candle while I look at the bottoms of my claws. I declare," he
said, examining them by the flickering light, "there are bunches of
pain all over them!"

"P'r'aps," said Trot, who was very glad to sit down beside her
companions, "you've got corns."

"Corns? Nonsense! Orks never have corns," protested the creature,
rubbing its sore feet tenderly.

"Then mebbe they're--they're-- What do you call 'em, Cap'n Bill?
Something 'bout the Pilgrim's Progress, you know."

"Bunions," said Cap'n Bill.

"Oh, yes; mebbe you've got bunions."

"It is possible," moaned the Ork. "But whatever they are, another day
of such walking on them would drive me crazy."

"I'm sure they'll feel better by mornin'," said Cap'n Bill,
encouragingly. "Go to sleep an' try to forget your sore feet."

The Ork cast a reproachful look at the sailor-man, who didn't see it.
Then the creature asked plaintively: "Do we eat now, or do we starve?"

"There's only half a biscuit left for you," answered Cap'n Bill. "No
one knows how long we'll have to stay in this dark tunnel, where
there's nothing whatever to eat; so I advise you to save that morsel o'
food till later."

"Give it me now!" demanded the Ork. "If I'm going to starve, I'll do it
all at once--not by