After our exhaustive three- or four-
hour scramble and the good breakfast food, we all lay down
along that crack--heads and tails, as it were--and slept till the
afternoon sun almost toasted our faces.
Terry poked a tentative foot against my head.
"How are you, Van? Alive yet?"
"Very much so," I told him. And Jeff was equally cheerful.
We had room to stretch, if not to turn around; but we could very
carefully roll over, one at a time, behind the sheltering foliage.
It was no use to leave there by daylight. We could not see
much of the country, but enough to know that we were now at
the beginning of the cultivated area, and no doubt there would
be an alarm sent out far and wide.
Terry chuckled softly to himself, lying there on that hot
narrow little rim of rock. He dilated on the discomfiture of our
guards and tutors, making many discourteous remarks.
I reminded him that we had still a long way to go before getting
to the place where we'd left our machine, and no probability of finding
it there; but he only kicked me, mildly, for a croaker.
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