and told us to take more;
leastways she jabbered and kept on pointing again. Of course, we
haven't done as well as we did in the hut, when the girl brought us
bread and cheese and milk; but I couldn't enjoy it then with all that
stinging in my back. And everything's good now except when you look so
grumpy."

"Well, Punch, most of my grumpiness has been on your account, and I will
cheer up now. If I could only meet some one to talk to and understand
us, so that we could find out where our people are, I wouldn't care."

"Well, never mind all that, and don't care. I don't. Here we are
having a big holiday in the country. We have got away from the French,
and we are not prisoners. I am all alive and kicking again, and I feel
more than ever that I don't care for anything now you are getting more
and more well. There's only one thing as would make me as grumpy as you
are."

"What's that, Punch?"

"To feel that my wound was getting bad again. I say, you don't think it
will, do you?"

"No; why should I? It's all healing up beautifully."

"Then I don't care for anything," cried the boy joyously. "Yes, I do.
I feel horrid wild sometimes to think they took away my bugle;
leastways, I suppose they did. I never saw it no more; and it don't
seem natural not to have that to polish up. I have got a musket,
though; and, I say, why don't we have a day's shooting, and knock over a
kid or a pig?"

"Because it would be somebody's kid or pig, and we should be hunted down
worse than ever, for, instead of the French being after us for escaped
prisoners, we should rouse the people against us for killing their
property."

"Yes, that would be bad," said Punch; "but it would only be because we
are hungry."

"Yes, but the people wouldn't study that."

"Think they would knife us for it?" said the boy thoughtfully.

"I hope not; but they would treat us as enemies, and it would go bad
with us, I feel sure."

"Well, we are rested now," said Punch. "Let's get on again a bit."

"Which way shall we go?" said Pen.

"I dunno; anywhere so's not to run against the French. I have had
enough of them. Let's chance it."

Pen laughed merrily, his comrade's easy-going, reckless way having its
humorous side, and cheering him up at a time when their helpless
condition made him ready to despair.

"Well," he said, "if we are to chance it, Punch, let's get out of this
wood and try to go downhill."

"What for?"

"Easier travelli