The twins shared the favour of their "good-byes" between Mr. Sterling and Bill. Peter stood at the little gate watching them till they got to the turn. Then Tom and David both turned and waved.

Dickie and Mary walked side by side, with Macbeth drooping disgustedly along between them.

"'Tisn't the trackless desert anymore," remarked Dickie.

"No," said Mary firmly. "More like the Amazon or the great grey-green greasy Limpopo River in Just So Stories."

"Umm! That's good, twin. I didn't think of that first." He lowered his voice: "Smells a bit like that old bog, doesn't it?"

11. Lone Pine Party

David was dreaming. He was standing again on the "rocky plateau" in Dark Hollow, where they had found the waterfall and climbed up to the bog. In his dreams he made up his mind that they must go there again to explore this valley, but even while he was considering it he was startled to see a large elephant coming down the track towards him. As it approached he saw that it was carrying a Home Guard wearing a sailor's hat. He felt that although the elephant was friendly its passenger was not, and as the former was now rushing towards him at a terrific speed it was only a matter of a few seconds before he recognized Mrs. Thurston as the rider.

Nearer and nearer rushed the mighty apparition while his legs refused to carry him to safety. Then came a shrill whistle, and the elephant stopped short and their enemy began singing in a doleful voice. He struggled again to escape the hatred which showed on Mrs. Thurston's white face - struggled fiercely, and woke to find himself clutching his pillow in a tumbled bed and the sun of a new day streaming in from the window. He grinned ruefully and sighed in relief to find himself awake and safe from rushing elephants. The singing continued, but with it now was mingled the clink of china as Agnes prepared breakfast in the kitchen below. From outside came his mother's soft whistle as she called Macbeth. He sat up and looked at his watch. Half-past eight. He was an hour late and nobody had called him. Dickie, in the other bed, looked as if he needed an hour or more yet, so he got up quietly and went to wash.

Mary was not down either, but there was an appetising smell of toast when he went through the kitchen. He found his mother sitting on the steps in the sun, tickling Macbeth behind the ears as the little dog lay on his back blissfully waving his bandy legs in the air. If he had been a cat he would have been purring!

"Hullo, David," she said as he kissed her. "Mary must bath him in the stream this morning. He's disgusting." Macbeth's tail lashed frantically to and fro as if this was a compliment, and Mrs. Morton resumed her tickling.