hat is preoccupying your thoughts to such an alarming extent," said my
companion, flashing at me a smile in which lurked a spice of mischief.
"Is it the cares and perils of your expedition--or what?"

"By Jove--I must apologise. You must find me very dull, Miss Sewin," I
answered, throwing off my preoccupation as with an effort. "The fact is
I believe I was thinking of something of the kind--ruling out the
`perils.' Do you know, I believe you've all been rather spoiling me
here--spoiling me, I mean, for--well, for my ordinary life. But--
anyhow, the memory of the times I have known lately--of days like this
for instance--will be something to have with one, wherever one is."

I was stopped by a surprised look in her face. Her eyes had opened
somewhat, as I had delivered myself of the above rather lame
declamation. Yet I had spoken with quite an unwonted degree of warmth,
when contrasted with my ordinary laconic way of expressing myself.
"Good Lord!" I thought, "I seem to be getting sentimental. No wonder
she thinks I've got softening of the brain."

But if she thought so she gave no sign of anything of the sort. On the
contrary her tone was kind and sympathetic, as she said:

"Strange how little we can enter into the lives of others. Now yours, I
suppose, is lonely enough at times."

"Oh, I've nothing to complain of," I answered with a laugh, anxious to
dispel any impression of sentimentality which my former words and tone
might have set up. "I started on this sort of life young, and have been
at it in one way or another ever since. It hasn't used me badly,
either."

She looked at me, with that straight, clear glance, and again a little
smile that was rather enigmatical, hovered around her lips. But before
she could say anything, even if she had intended to, Falkner's voice was
raised in front.

"Wake up, Aida, and come along. I'm just going to heave Arlo in."

"No. You're not to," she cried hurrying forward.

The others had already reached the waterhole, and there was Falkner, on
the rock brink, holding on to Arlo, grinning mischievously. The dog was
licking his hands, and whining softly, his tail agitating in deprecatory
wags. He wasn't in the least anxious for the plunge--and speaking
personally I should have been uncommonly sorry to have undertaken to
make him take it against his will, but then Falkner was one of the
family. Now there was a half playful scrimmage between him and his
cousin